Page 19 of Fathers of the Bride

“Kelly dear, you need to have this car checked. It rides like a white river raft.”

“It’s fine, Daddy. It’s still one of the safest cars on the road.”

“Well, yes, that’s important,” I had to admit, but also had to add, “Mercedes are also safe cars.”

And then, as though I’d conjured him, Andy drove up in his Mercedes. He parked a few car lengths down.

When he jumped out of the car, I saw that he was appropriately dressed: Hiking boots, thick socks, cargo shorts and a thermal undershirt. His skin had faded to a honey color, and he was still working a pair of mirrored aviators. A look so out it was in.

“Hello Miles,” he said, as he kissed Kelly on the cheeks. “Going shopping on Melrose after this?”

“Some of us were given less information than was needed.” Of course, if she’d been honest, I’d have refused to come.

My daughter rolled her eyes and said, “Come on, the trail is this way.”

Reluctantly, I followed. I promised myself I would not look down at my shoes. I was sure they’d be ruined before we went ten feet and I just could not watch that happen. As we walked, Kelly began: “I thought we should get together as a family and talk about the wedding.”

Andy made a dubious sound.

“I’m starting back at Safe Haven in a couple of days.” Safe Haven is a women’s shelter just east of downtown. Kelly has been volunteering there since she was sixteen. “I was kind of hoping the two of you could do most of the wedding stuff.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Andy asked.

“Of course, it’s a good idea,” Kelly said. “I loved your wedding. The legal one.”

“You were twelve,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t love it. And I love the pictures from your commitment ceremony. And, most important, I’ve been watching Daddy do shows on weddings all my life. It’s a great idea to just let the two of you handle it.”

“Do we have to walk so quickly?” I asked. But neither of them paid any attention to me.

6

Andrew Lane

“You knowwhen I was twenty-four, I thought I knew everything. I thought I was fully grown and that I had it all figured out. I didn’t. I look back and think, I was so young. Soveryyoung.”

Miles had fallen hopelessly behind and, when he could be glimpsed, was stumbling around looking like a man dying of thirst. We’d been on the trail less than ten minutes. I decided it was a good time to feel my daughter out about a few things.

“Papa, I’m twenty-four, so I’m guessing you want to tell me something?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Twenty-four is awfully young to get married, don’t you think?”

“You were twenty-fivewhen you got together with Daddy. And he was—”

“Well, yes, we did get together rather young. And if my father hadn’t thought I was the spawn of Satan, he might have told me I was too young to rush into things.”

“Except you weren’t too young.”

She had me there. I was tempted to say that my relationship with Miles had been a terrible idea. But it hadn’t been. We’d been happy. Maybe not every single moment but most of them. Or many of them. Right up to the point when we weren’t.

“And besides, girls mature faster,” my daughter explained. This was not an unfamiliar fact. The point had been raised often in our household.

“That’s not the reassurance I’m looking for,” I pointed out.

The trail was sandy and lined by scraggly bushes. People were finishing up, coming down in a steady stream beside us. Others were skipping energetically passed us. The view was fantastic. We could see across the Los Angeles basin to Long Beach in the south and Santa Monica in the west. Just a gorgeous day.

After considering for a moment, Kelly said, “When you’re in the Peace Corps there are all sorts of people you’re not supposed to fraternize with. You’re not supposed to see the other Peace Corps volunteers, and you need to respect the local values and traditions. When I met Avery, he was one of the few people I could date without getting into trouble. So I thought, why not have a little fun? That’s what I thought we were doing—until he asked me to marry him. I said, no, of course.”