Chapter 10 - The Doors Would Not Stay Closed
The side room was too small for how quiet it had gotten. The air conditioner clicked on above us and blew cold air down my neck, and the baby fussed against my cardigan until I shifted her up higher on my shoulder. My arms hurt. I didn't put her down.
Daddy stood by the door with his phone still in his hand. His bow tie was crooked now. He kept looking at it like he didn't know what he'd just heard, then looking at me like he did. The lady in the white dress stood far from us by the little couch, her veil pulled back over one shoulder. She wasn't crying. She was breathing fast through her nose.
Nobody talked for a long time. Then someone knocked.
It was two quick knocks, then a pause. Daddy opened the door just a crack. The officiant was there, an older man with glasses and a black robe. I could see bright light behind him from the chapel and hear chairs moving.
He leaned in and kept his voice low. "I'm sorry," he said. "They're getting restless. The photographer stopped taking pictures. People are asking if they should leave."
Daddy didn't answer right away. He looked back at us. At me holding her. At the bride.
"We can't keep hiding in here," he said.
"You mean you can't," the bride said. She didn't look at me. "Walk out there if you want. I'm not walking back in there with them."
That made my stomach drop. The baby made a little sound and I patted her back without thinking. I had learned how to tell when she was about to cry for real.
Daddy stepped away from the door and let it close soft. He crouched down so his eyes were level with mine. His tuxedo jacket pulled tight at his shoulders.
"Listen to me," he said. His voice was low and tired. "It's loud out there. Lots of eyes. If you stay in here, it's quiet. Mrs. Harper from the church nursery can sit with you. You wouldn't have to—"
I shook my head before he finished. My hair stuck to my wet cheek.
"No," I whispered.
He studied my face. "Are you sure?"
I nodded and hitched the baby up. Her pink blanket had slipped and I tucked it back around her legs with one hand. She was warm and heavy and her head fit right under my chin like it always did.
"I'll go with you," I said.
Behind us the bride laughed once, short. "Of course she will."
Daddy stood up slowly. He put his hand in his pants pocket for a second. I saw the shape of it press against the fabric. He didn't take it out. He just left it there, then pulled his hand back out and straightened his jacket.
He looked at the bride. "I'm not leaving them back here like it's something to be ashamed of," he said. "You don't have to walk with us. But I'm going out there."
She crossed her arms. Her nails were white at the tips. "Then you walk first. I'll decide when I come."
The officiant knocked again, softer this time. Daddy opened the door wider. The hallway light was bright white and I could smell flowers again, strong and sweet.
He held his hand out to me, not to take the baby, just to walk beside me. "Stay right next to me, okay? You don't have to talk if you don't want to."
I stepped forward. My shoes made no sound on the carpet, then a loud sound on the marble when we got to the doorway of the chapel. The cold air from the side room was gone. Warm daylight came through the tall windows and hit the floor in big squares.
Every head turned.
May you like
I kept my eyes on Daddy's sleeve and held the baby tighter. She lifted her head at the noise and stared. I could feel a hundred people looking at the pink blanket and my blue dress and his messed-up bow tie.
He didn't rush. He walked slow down the side of the aisle toward the front, with me right against his side. Behind us, the doors stayed open. No bride came through them yet.
