Chapter 21: The Wedding March

At ten that morning Dolly walked out of her diner with a rolling pin under one arm and a pie in each hand.

She did not look back.

"I'm not leaving it," she said to the deputy on the sidewalk. "I'm lending it to the building."

By four o'clock I was in a black vest at the back of the Lake Forest Club ballroom, holding a tray of champagne.

Three hundred people sat in white chairs facing an arch of cream roses.

Lydia came down the aisle in an ivory gown with a long train.

Her gown was the dress I had chosen for my own anniversary.

She smiled at everyone, and she did not look at me.

Stanley stood at the arch in a dark suit with his hands folded in front of him.

His eyes found me over her shoulder once, and then they went back to the minister.

The ceremony stretched on.

At six they cut the cake, and the room moved to the long tables for the toasts.

Carl was in the sound booth in a borrowed club jacket, sitting next to the tech.

They were sharing a bag of pretzels.

He gave me a thumbs-up through the glass.

The drive was in the port.

It had been there since five.

Lydia rose with a glass in her hand.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," she said, glowing.

"I'd like to say a few words about the man I've loved since I was nineteen."

She smiled at him.

"Ten years of waiting, and he finally got on one knee."

People laughed and clinked glasses.

I set my tray on a side table.

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