Chapter 23: Halfway

Saturday came up bright and cold over the lake.

Becky stood in the upstairs hall of the lake house in an ivory dress she had chosen herself.

Her hair was in a loose knot, and there was flour still under one fingernail.

Five women in pale green dresses crowded the mirror behind her.

The lemon tart woman fixed a pin at her shoulder and stepped back with her hands over her mouth.

"Don't cry," Becky said. "You'll start me."

"I'm not crying. I'm admiring."

"You're crying."

"Admiringly."

A cane thumped on the stairs.

Wendell stood at the bottom in a gray morning suit, with a white rose in his lapel and his chin lifted.

"I'm told it's customary for a father to walk you," he said. "You haven't got one, and I've decided I'll do."

Becky came down slowly.

At the last step she took his arm, and her throat closed.

"Nobody has ever walked me anywhere," she said.

"Then I'll go slow, and you'll set the pace."

The lawn ran down to the water in a long green slope, with white chairs in rows.

An arbor of cut branches stood at the bottom.

Eighty people stood up as she came out of the house.

She saw the bakery staff's families and the Strathmore board.

She saw Colby's father in the back row with his hat on his knee.

Beside him sat Colby's mother, who nodded to her once.

Max stood at the end of the aisle in a charcoal suit.

It was the first time she had ever seen him in anything but black.

Then she looked at the arbor, and her breath went.

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