“I practiced with Dad before.”
I pulled back.
“What?”
“For your wedding.”
“You practiced with Dad?”
Nathan shrugged like this was obvious.
“A long time ago.”
Dad had apparently joked with him years earlier that when I finally got married, Nathan would have to make sure he didn’t trip over his own feet walking behind us.
I started crying again.
Nathan looked alarmed.
“Did I say it wrong?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because apparently that’s what brides do.”
He accepted that.
Nathan started practicing that same week.
My uncle told me later.
Nathan was walking the upstairs hallway with his arm out, holding nothing, counting the steps.
One, two, three.
Pause.
Turn.
Again.
But practicing at home apparently wasn’t enough for him.
He phoned the church himself, without telling a single one of us, to ask the priest what he was supposed to do when we got to the front.
Father Michael called me afterward.
“Your brother is taking this very seriously.”
“I know.”
“He asked whether he bows before or after giving you away.”
I laughed.
“What did you tell him?”
“That nobody is giving you away.”
Apparently Nathan objected.
“Dad said that’s what it’s called.”
So Father Michael compromised.
He told me the final plan.
Nathan would walk me to Daniel, shake Daniel’s hand, hug me, and then sit beside Mom.
Nathan wrote the sequence down.
He practiced that too.
Whenever anyone brought up a doubt, he said the same two words.
“I practiced.”
Mom worried he might get overwhelmed by the crowd.
“I practiced.”
Uncle Patrick wondered if the music might throw off his timing.
“I practiced.”
Daniel asked whether he wanted someone beside him in case he forgot where to sit.
Nathan frowned.
“I practiced.”
Everybody said yes.
My mom cried.
Daniel said it was the only version of the day that made sense.
And for a while, that was that.
Then, three weeks out, Daniel’s mother brought it up at dinner.
Her name is Margaret.
I’d known her for five years.
We’d never been close, but we’d always been civil.
She likes things done properly.
Napkins ironed.
Christmas cards mailed by December first.
Family photographs coordinated.
She once made Daniel change shirts before Thanksgiving dinner because his navy sweater “argued with the table runner.”
So when she invited us over to discuss wedding details, I expected questions about seating charts.
I didn’t expect Nathan.
