For once, nobody gave it to her.
So she had to choose for herself.
Finally, she nodded.
Brooke stepped forward and handed Paige a small bouquet. Later, she told me she had kept one aside because she “had a weird feeling.” That was Brooke’s way of saying she had been ready to hit my sister with flowers if necessary.
The chapel laughed softly when Paige took the bouquet and whispered, “Thank you.”
It was the first breath of warmth in the room.
Pastor Reynolds returned to his place.
“Now,” he said gently, “shall we begin again?”
And we did.
My father walked me down the aisle with wet eyes and an unsteady arm. When he gave me away, he did not say much. He simply kissed my forehead and whispered, “Your mother would be proud.”
For the first time in my life, I believed he meant both of us.
