Chapter 21: The Last Pew, On Purpose

Bruce's POV

I dropped her at the back lot of St. Brendan's at one-forty.

She wore the green dress from our dinner at Marchetti's, under my wool coat.

Her grandmother's ring was on her right hand.

She kissed me through the truck window.

"Go sit in your pew," she said.

"Leah."

"I'll see you in a few minutes, Mr. Garrison."

"That is not a promise I'm good at," I said.

"It isn't a promise. It's a plan." She tapped the gold band on my left hand. "Go."

I watched her cross the gravel to the sacristy door.

She held the brass key in her fist.

Then I parked on the street and walked in the front.

The vestibule was full of white roses.

Two men in dark suits stood at the guest table with a list on a clipboard.

I showed my invitation.

One of them read my name off the list, found it, and checked a box.

"Mr. Garrison. Last row, right side. Mrs. Landry reserved it."

"I know."

He glanced at my hand, then at my face, and I saw him decide not to ask about the ring.

Travis was standing at the foot of the aisle in his navy morning suit, shaking hands.

He saw me over a stranger's shoulder, and his whole face lit.

"Bruce. You came."

"I was invited."

"You were." He clapped my arm. "Same pew. I told you."

"You did."

"You'll like it. Good view." His grin widened. "Where's the nurse?"

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