My Stepmother Sold the Farm, So I Married the Man Who Left novel · Chapter 31 of 32

Chapter 31: The Real Thing

We were married the second time on the third Saturday of December, in the church basement, at two in the afternoon.

Three hundred folding chairs stood in rows on the linoleum, and every one of them was full.

Someone had hung paper snowflakes from the pipes.

The coffee urn was at the back, where Per's photograph had stood on its easel on the first day.

Nobody had moved the photograph.

It stood by the urn again, turned a little to face the room.

"Stop fidgeting," Hilda said.

She stood beside me in the narrow hall outside the double doors, in her good navy dress and a corsage the pastor's wife had pinned on her.

I was in the blue dress.

I had thought of buying another, and then I had gone back to that one, because it was the dress I had married him in and been afraid in.

I wanted to wear the same dress and not be afraid.

"I'm not fidgeting."

"You are folding your bouquet into a lunch sack."

I looked down at my hands.

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