Chapter 15: The Empty Chair

At four o'clock exactly, the string quartet started the song, and the doors opened.

I stood in the doorway of the ballroom with my bouquet and looked at the room.

There were a hundred and eighty chairs, and every one of them was full.

My side was on the left: the hospice staff, Nan's friends from the school board, a row of retired teachers in hats.

Trenton's side was on the right, the firm in their good suits, the men from the dinner, and the cousins from his mother's town.

Krista stood on a riser at the back with a ring light, a phone and a second camera on a boom.

"Okay, chat, this is it, she's here, oh my God," she whispered.

"The lighting in this room is insane."

Nobody had told her the groom wasn't in the aisle.

The groom's chair was empty, as he had planned.

I walked.

The dress whispered on the carpet.

Faces turned toward me one row at a time.

A few women on my side were already crying, and one retired teacher gave me a stern, approving nod.

On Trenton's side, I heard a whisper.

"Where is he?"

"Late again?"

"Is this the bit?"

I reached the front row.

Nan sat in the aisle seat in her best green cardigan, with Trenton's mother stiff beside her.

I stopped.

I took the engagement ring from the bouquet ribbon, where I had tucked it after leaving the apple bowl, and held it out to Nan.

"Hold this for me."

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