Amazing - Chapter 7

AMAZING

Disclaimer: “Twilight” is owned by Stephenie Meyer. “Johnny Lingo and the Eight-Cow Wife” belongs to Patricia Mc Gerr.

A/N: This fan fic is a retelling of the short story “Johnny Lingo and the Eight-Cow Wife” by Patricia McGerr. (Not the movie, 'coz I only found out about it after I've written this fic.) Only it is written in Bella's point of view because I was always interested in what Sarita, the heroine, had to say about the matter. @_@

The setting is in Ford and Settle, fictional Pacific islands I made up by changing and omitting certain letters from the names of those places we are all too familiar with. Heh, pretty original, I know. LOL

Time period is contemporary, and the story may sound old-school but I imagine my islands are so small and remote that they are untouched by modernisation and are not much different culturewise than they were 40 years ago.

And just so you know, I was listening to “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars while writing this, which explains the cheesy, fluffy conversations. And the title. :)

My deepest gratitude to my awesome betas from PTB, SecretlySeverus and ChocolateMango. Thank you for your advice and encouragement! They mean a lot to me. It seems like everytime I go through my betas' hands I grow more as a writer. Or is it just me? LOL

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CHAPTER 7

The wedding was splendid, though how that could have happened on such short notice was beyond me. All I knew was that with Alice's planning and with Edward's money, anything was possible.

Edward and I were wed in the only church on the island, which was a small, plain white building on top of a short hill overlooking the coast. The water gently fizzled against the shore and the birds on the coconut palm trees sang cheerfully as if they shared our happiness. The salty tang of the sea combined with the sweet scent of jasmines permeated the air, making me a bit light-headed as I walked down the short aisle with my father. The interior of the church was transformed with the creative work of Alice so that it was worthy of a page in a tour guide brochure or magazine.

It seemed as if everyone in town was there. Only my family were seated at the front row since Edward didn't have any family left. The mayor and his family sat behind them. People I had known since childhood turned their heads in my direction as I walked past them. I did not miss the disdain in some of their faces, but before I had any time to brood about them I faced the front of the church and saw my husband-to-be.

No words could describe how marvellous he looked. It was as if he was even more handsome at that moment. He seemed so happy and alive, as if he had just won a prize.

When I reached him, he took my hand from my father's. “I don't deserve you,” he whispered, seizing the words from my mouth.

I went through the tedious rituals almost impatiently. I knew the pinning of the veil, the cord around our shoulders, the candles, and the coins all symbolised something important, but I wanted to get it over with so Edward and I could be alone, away from the judgemental looks and the wagging tongues.

At the end of the ceremony, the people spilled from the pews and came to congratulate us with suspicious grins on their faces. I tried my best not to let them ruin this significant day in my life and just enjoy myself.

We walked the short distance to the white beach below where the wedding feast was spread. Tables upon tables of grilled seafood, white rice flavoured with screw pine leaves, stir-fried vegetables, chicken simmered in bamboo, savoury soup, fruits, and native coconut sweets covered half the seaside. A table was reserved for the traditional whole pig roasted over charcoal. I had never seen so much food before, not even during the festivals.

A group of young men with guitars and drums crooned love songs while Edward and I went through the remaining rituals of freeing the doves from their cage, sipping wine with arms intertwined, and feeding each other a slice of cake.

We parted briefly to mingle with the guests. I talked to my aunts and cousins for a while, and then I was alone. I turned to see Jessica approaching me with a friendly smile. I finally realised why Jessica wasn't trying to seduce Edward as I had expected her to do a week ago. She told me that she was finally settling down as well with none other than Mike Newton. She thanked me (albeit belatedly) for saving his life and wished us well.

The old wives were there, too, not even bothering to lower their voices as I walked near them. They were no doubt privy to the events inside my father's hut yesterday, judging from their conversation. We had not been that quiet, after all. Thanks to these gossip-mongers, everyone in the general area would know about the two hundred forty sheep waiting for Father even before this day was over.

The people I cared about were eating and dancing and laughing to their hearts' content. They were in a festive mood, Father most of all. Who knew he could marry off his daughter and become a rich man all in one day?

I wanted to celebrate with them, I really did. Here I was, the plainest girl in Ford, married to a man who probably wouldn't have noticed me if not for my clumsiness or my heroic antics. I was beyond grateful. But all the loud gossip and malicious stares were making my head ache, so I took Edward's hand and led him behind the trees that lined the edge of the sea coast, away from the noisy crowd. I often went there as a girl, where I would play hide-and-seek with my boisterous cousins. In a small clearing, I found the love seat Emmett had made out of teak logs from his wood shop.

Even with the low hum of the cicadas, it was a quiet, solemn place, which instantly calmed my frayed nerves. I sat down with my husband and laid my head on his strong shoulder.

“Are you happy, love?” he asked quietly. He pressed a soft kiss to my fingers, and I was soothed even more.

“Yes,” I murmured, tracing the lines on his smooth palm.

“Then why do you sound gloomy?” he asked me, observing my face.

I bit my lip, feeling a rare burst of anger rise in me. “Edward, most of these people eating at the feast you've provided so generously are not here to celebrate our happiness. They came to speculate and laugh and say mean things. It's not right.”

He took a deep breath. “I know. Most people never change, no matter what you do. But I didn't throw this feast for them. I did it for you, for Charlie, for the rest of your family. They are just the audience, Bella, but you are the star. Love, can you do something for me?”

He had given me so much already and I knew there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. “Anything.”

“Even just for today, can you please stop listening to what they say? Instead, I want you to listen to this: You're the only person that matters to me,” he said with utter conviction.

What does one say to that?

I thought about his interest in me from the very beginning, his constant desire to be near me, and finally his astounding offer for my hand in marriage. It was undeniable how much I meant to him. Love was a very strange thing that I could never hope to comprehend, but I found myself opening up to its irresistible power.

Slowly, I was beginning to believe.

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A/N: Okay, for those who are interested in the conditions of Bella's bride price: So why sheep instead of cows in Patricia McGerr's story? Well, mainly because of the “lion and the lamb” line in the book. Plus, a lamb/sheep looks uber cute, right? Why the number 240 instead of the 8 in “Johnny Lingo”? I Googled bridal price and discovered that a gift of 1 cow is roughly equivalent to 30 sheep. So there. :D