Page 39 of Fathers of the Bride

“I was just trying to take an interest.”

“Mmmm-hmmm. So, we’ve promised Kelly a small backyard wedding. What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know. I’ve barely thought about it.”

“We both know that’s not true. You’ve always got something up your sleeve.”

Did I have something up my sleeve? I didn’t. I really had no idea what to do. I was going to have to improvise.

“Well…” I began uncertainly. “I think we can get nearly two hundred rented chairs on the lowest terrace.”

This would be the terrace our neighbors kept trying to buy to build a tennis court. Which made me wonder,How much would they pay?Could we sell it? Could I?

“Is two hundred too many, though?” Andy asked. “I mean, is that Kelly’s idea of small?”

“I’m sure Avery’s family is going to want to invite at least a hundred. Avery has friends and Kelly, of course. We’ll want to invite some of the people from the show—Kelly grew up with them. And possibly a neighbor or two.”

I carefully avoided relatives. I mean, we had them. We just hadn’t spoken to them in decades. Andy’s parents were awful—and dead. My mother had been better about things; my being gay, I mean. My father had died while I was a child, so we were all we had.

But then she was a monster about our adopting Kelly. She kept calling her ‘The bad seed’ and offering to pay for a surrogate if we’d send her back. Send her back! I certainly wasn’t invitingherto my daughter’s wedding.

“Miles? Earth to Miles.”

“Sorry, where were we?”

“I was saying we might be able to pare things down to a hundred and fifty. If it’s that important to Kelly. Buffet or sit down?”

“Buffet. More casual. If only because it requires less staff.”

“Maybe we should do hearty appetizers?” Andrew suggested.

There was a tug in my chest that I just knew was my heart breaking. “Oh God, must we?” Then I resuscitated myself by suggesting, “Of course. A Japanese chef or two making sushi?”

“That’s a great idea. See, a small weddingcanbe fun.”

“I guess a band is out,” I said. “DJ?”

“We’ve no choice, really. Balloon?” Andy suggested.

“Bite your tongue. You know better—”

“Not helium, hot air. Avery and Kelly could leave in one.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” I said.

“Of course, that doesn’t exactly sound ‘small.’”

“No, it doesn’t. But does small mean soulless?” I felt like it did. As much as I was willing to fight for what my daughter wanted, I had stored up two decades of fantasies.

“You’ll want to decorate the steps between the terraces for Kelly to come down them,” Andy suggested.

The four terraces were each joined by six to eight flagstone steps. Immediately, I had a vision of birch branches, white hydrangea bouquets and thick pink ribbon running along each side of the steps. Rose petals everywhere. Kelly lifting a beautiful white silk dress as she carefully descends the steps. And there I am, twenty pounds lighter—all right, I’ll be reasonable, ten—wearing a stunning tuxedo supporting my daughter every step of the way. And on the other side of Kelly, Andy looking dapper in the tux he wore to our wedding. Well, we need to cut corners somewhere, and besides, annoyingly it still fit the bastard.

And then, as we float through the crowd—which in my imagination is far bigger than Kelly would want—there’s Raj by the altar, phone raised, filming it all. That nasty little f—

“What? You look like you want to bite someone,” Andy said.

I should throw him out.The words ‘Get out’ were on the tip of my tongue when the light hit him in a particular way and I saw a shadow of the much younger Andy, the Andy I’d fallen in love with. He was right there: enthusiastic, eager, ambitious, ready to turn me into someone famous. And he had. He actually had. At least for a while. My anger scampered away.