Plantation by Dorothea Benton Frank

with black trim. It looked just like Chanel and probably was. Yep, elegant but not happy. Something had come over her like a bad mood. I knew that look too well.
    “Richard, this is Millie Smoak. She’s been running Tall Pines all my life and she’s my dearest friend in the world.”
    “It is a great pleasure, Mrs. Smoak, a great pleasure indeed.”
    “So you’re the man who’s going to marry my Caroline?” Millie said. She looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes.
    “Yes, ma’am, I am the one who is not only going to marry her, but I’m going to love and cherish her for the rest of my life.”
    “Well, you be sure you do!” Millie said and two big tears splashed her cheeks.
    “Oh, Millie!” I threw my arms around her and we hugged.
    “I was there the day you were born, Caroline!” Millie said and sniffed, trying to compose herself. “The very minute you came into this world!”
    “I know, and I love you, Millie, you know I do!” Then I felt like I was going to cry.
    “Well, then,” Richard said to the approaching waiter, “let’s have a bottle of champagne!”
    “Um, I’d prefer Jack Daniels on the rocks with a tiny splash?
    Does that suit?” Mother said.
    “Me too,” said Trip.
    “Make it three,” Millie said, “and call me Millie.”
    “Oh, what the hell, Richard,” I said, thinking I hadn’t drunk bourbon since college, “I’ll have one too.”

    3 8
    D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k Richard turned to the waiter and said, “I’m new to the family.
    Forget the champagne, I’ll have a Dewar’s neat. Bourbon all around. And please bring another orange juice for my future sister-in-law.”
    Richard picked up the check. After that, Richard could do no wrong. We moved on to the Post House and had the most delicious dinner—big steaks, steamed lobsters large enough to give you nightmares, creamed spinach, and cottage fries. We ate and told stories until after ten o’clock.
    “Does anyone care for dessert?” Richard said.
    They all declined, except Frances Mae, but when no one else ordered dessert, Trip told Frances Mae she didn’t need it either. She went into a serious funk. I was a little surprised he spoke to her that way. I would have kicked my husband in the shins under the table! But, in all fairness to my brother, Frances Mae was rotund.
    “Does anyone want to go over to our apartment for a nightcap?”
    They declined again, saying they were tired, that didn’t the bride need her rest and so on. Mother had discreetly slipped her American Express card to the captain, so the bill was handled before Richard could even offer to pay it. He got up and bowed to Mother, kissing her hand. We said good night at the door and went our separate ways.
    “You were utterly charming,” I said as we crossed Park Avenue, “thank you.”
    “They are very nice people, Caroline,” he said, “and, I love you.”
    “Thank God,” I said, “because I sure do love you too.”
    Eddie the doorman held the door for us and into the lobby we went.
    “Eleven degrees,” he said.
    “Really?” I said, “I didn’t feel cold a bit!”
    “Aye, that’s love for ya,” Eddie said and pressed the elevator button for us.
    Tomorrow I would become Mrs. Richard Levine. I felt pretty wonderful.

    Caroline Boswell Wimbley
    and
    Dr. Richard Case Levine
    5
    Request the honor of your presence
    At a reception to celebrate their marriage February 26, 1987
    Le Perigord Park
    563 Park Avenue
    Six o’clock in the evening
    The favor of your reply is requested by January 30
    Black Tie

    Four
    Going to the Chapel
    }
    1987
    UR wedding ceremony, which was to be held in our new apartment, was minutes away. I was in our bedroom O with Mother and Millie, nursing my nerves with breathing exercises—ujayia breathing, a technique I learned in yoga class to organize my prana. It wasn’t working all that great.
    “Do you want something to help you compose yourself, dear?”
    Mother asked. “You certainly don’t