Chapter 5: Plans

Beth had applied to four different Pac-10 universities, as well as a half dozen smaller liberal arts colleges. To my great joy, she was accepted at Stanford, my alma mater. (Eventually, she was accepted everywhere she applied.) When we knew this, Ben applied to transfer to Stanford as a sophomore. He was accepted, too, so that's where they'd go.

Frank was really concerned about coming up with enough money to pay for Stanford. He made remarks like, "Why don't you do a couple of years at Portland State, first?" We sat down with Frank and Margie to discuss it.

"Frank, you've got a couple of big expenses coming up. The kids will want to get married this spring. And there's college after that. Let's figure out what we have to work with. Then we can all make our plans and nobody will have any unrealistic expectations."

Frank thought that was a wonderful idea and proceeded to tell us where he stood. He and Margie lived from paycheck to paycheck, with very little left over. Their IRA account wasn't all that much, either. They had managed to set aside about $12,000 for Beth's college education and counted on her getting a scholarship and working for whatever else she needed. They had not planned on her being admitted to an elite school like Stanford. The money they had would just about cover tuition for a year at Stanford. But not room and board and incidentals like books and pizza.

Ben and I smiled. "Frank," I said, "Stanford has a 'need blind' admissions policy. That means that, if a student is admitted and wants to go there, they'll work out the financial end of it. Send in your scholarship papers and see what they'll do. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Of course," Ben stuck in, "by then, we'll be married. I can pay for college for my wife, from the money my dad left me. Let's see what Stanford offers. Then we'll make up the difference. I'd like to accept their offers of admission as a married couple—Memorial Church is a lovely place to get married, but I don't want to wait that long."

The Sommersets had forgotten about the kids' money. Ben's stash had been quietly working for almost five years now—and had doubled in that time. With that realization, Frank said, "Ben, Beth, how about this: We'll give you whatever kind of wedding you want and throw what cash is left into your college fund?"

Ben nodded his agreement and Beth, smiling brightly, hugged her dad, then her mom. For the first time, Margie spoke up, "See Frank. I knew it would work out. Let's send in the scholarship forms and see what they do. And anyhow, I'd a lot rather talk about planning a wedding!"

Rachael said, "Who wouldn't? But before we go hog wild, we need to get a couple of things straight. First, we need to be sure these kids still want to get married. If they do, we should probably invite Leah to join us."

Blushing furiously, Beth said, "If he doesn't want to get married, he's cut off, as of now!"

To our hearty laughter and applause at that, Ben responded, tongue in cheek, "Well, I don't know ... I only want to marry a willing wench, not some heartless teaser who'd cut a guy off coldly over such a little thing as not wanting to suffer through a wedding." Giggling, the kids hugged each other.

"Mom," Beth said, "we've thought a lot about this. Ben and I want to get married on my birthday, which is a Thursday this year. We thought an evening wedding would let most of our friends come, without missing school. We'll take the next day off, for a long weekend on Toy for our honeymoon. Then we'd like to take a real trip this summer. Is that OK with everybody?"

Rachael and Leah had just come into the room, so Beth had to repeat herself. Leah was ecstatic. "All RIGHT you guys! Way to go! Cool!" The rest of us agreed. Leah would keep the twins informed of plans, so they could participate as much as possible.

"Where will you live?" Margie asked.

"As long as we're here, we'd like to continue as we are," Beth said. "There's really no point in renting our own place, is there? With all the expenses of school coming up?"

"Of course not, dear," Rachael assured her. "If you did, while we have this huge old house, I'd be offended! You can continue to sleep in whichever house you want. Or ... there's that suite on the third floor. We could clean it up and you could have that for your own apartment, if you'd prefer."

The way Beth's eyes lit up at that, I knew the answer.

When the women got down to serious planning, I caught Frank's and Ben's eyes and motioned to the other room. We escaped to my den, where I poured us each a drink—wine for Ben, sour mash for Frank and scotch for me. "Here's to our ladies!" I toasted. "They are all ladies, in fact. And they all do us proud!" We sipped, then sat and chatted. Mostly we quizzed Ben on what he wanted, so we could protect him from overblown female machinations.

It took some negotiating, but in the end, everybody was happy.

We had a big, formal, white wedding. This was followed by a dinner and dancing at the country club. Including friends from high school, nearly 400 invitations were sent and we got over 370 responses—close to 700 people would attend Beth's wedding! Leah would be 'maid of honor' and Sara 'matron of honor'. A couple of school friends would be bridesmaids.

Ben brought tears to my eyes when he asked me to be 'best man'. I was honored, but thought maybe Sam, or one of his other friends? He wanted me, so I agreed. Sam and some of Ben's other friends would handle the 'sideboy' chores and be ushers.

At home, once the women had cleaned the place and started painting, the guys were called in to do the heavy work of laying new carpet and refurbishing the plumbing in that third-floor suite. When I wondered out loud if it was worth the work and expense, when they'd be leaving for school in the fall, Rachael gave me a look that could peel paint.

Before long, we had it decorated to the ladies' satisfaction. Then we were 'allowed' to move furniture and fixtures in and out, until they were satisfied with that, too. Mostly it was Beth making the decisions. But she asked the others for their opinions. Their committee meetings could go on forever. They were having lots of fun, but we got tired of holding furniture in the air while they decided where it should go—or, more than once, sent it back where it came from, as unsuitable for the look they wanted.

Then there was a long discussion about whether or not they would inhabit this new apartment before the wedding. The kids solved it by saying that, for sentimental reasons, they wanted to wait. They'd sleep in one or the other of their old rooms until the wedding. Since they preferred the bed in Beth's house, they wanted to take that to Stanford. While they were on Toy, Frank, Sam and I would move the bed from Ben's room into the bedroom in the apartment.

Why the big deal? Well, in a sense, it wasn't. But we love these kids. We were proud of them. If we could make them happier by doing little things like that for them, we would. And we did.

The wedding was beautiful.

Beth was so gorgeous, every guy in the place envied Ben. And Ben, who had filled out during the year, was a solid, attractive specimen, himself.

When he saw Beth coming down the aisle, Ben got that 'swallowed a frog' look. He was stunned. She was spectacular!

Among the family, there wasn't a dry eye. Both kids were so choked with emotion the pastor had to coax them through their vows slowly, in small steps.