Chapter 13 - What He Owes Us
The marble felt cold through my shoes. I had been standing so long my legs shook, and the baby was heavy in my arms even though I would not put her down. The daylight from the tall windows hurt my eyes. Everybody was looking at us and nobody was talking now.
Daddy knelt down in front of me. His tuxedo jacket pulled tight across his shoulders. He did not reach for the baby. He just put his hands on his knees so his face was even with mine.
“I messed up,” he said. His voice was low. He breathed out once before he kept going. “I should have called. I should have checked on you and her. I didn’t stay in contact when I should have.”
I stared at his bow tie. It was crooked now. I could see the chain still in his palm. He had closed his fingers over it like he was afraid someone would take it.
“You left us?” I asked. It came out smaller than I wanted.
He shook his head fast. “No. Not like that. But I wasn’t there. That’s on me. That’s my failure.”
Behind him, her veil moved when she shifted her weight. The bride. Her dress made a stiff sound on the marble. She had her arms crossed tight over the top of her gown.
“Say what that means,” she said to him. “Don’t just say you messed up. Say what you’re going to do.”
He looked up at her, then back at me. “It means they’re my responsibility. Right now. Today. I’m not passing that off.”
My arms tightened around the baby. She made a soft noise against my cardigan and turned her face into my neck. Her blanket was slipping again and I hitched her up with my knee.
“Promise?” I said.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded once. “I promise. I’m not handing you to strangers. I’m not letting anyone take her from you while you’re scared. You stay with me until we figure out somewhere safe.”
“Somewhere safe like what?” I asked.
“Like my place tonight,” he said. “Heat on. Door locked. Food. You don’t have to hold her the whole night by yourself. I’ll help.”
I believed part of it because his eyes were wet. I watched him blink. Grown men weren’t supposed to cry in a chapel, but he looked like he might.
The bride laughed, but not like anything was funny. “Your place. Great. And what about this?” She pointed at the floral arch behind her. “The guests. The minister. The dinner we paid for.”
Daddy stood up slowly. His knees cracked. He faced her all the way.
“I know,” he said.
“No, do you?” Her voice got sharper. The chandelier light caught her earrings when she turned her head toward the pews. A few people looked away. “You asked me to marry you. Today. In front of everyone. And this whole time—” She stopped and pressed her lips together. “I’m not doing this today. I won’t marry under deception. Not with them standing in the aisle crying.”
The word hung there. Deception. I didn’t fully know what it meant but I knew it was aimed at him, not at me.
“I’m not asking you to,” he said quietly.
She stared at him. “You’re agreeing? Just like that?”
He glanced down at me, then back at her. “We can’t proceed as planned. It wouldn’t be right. Not to you. Not to them.”
She pulled her veil back off her shoulder like it was choking her. “So that’s it. I walk back down that aisle alone and tell my parents the wedding is off.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said. “I’ll stand there and say it. I won’t make you do it alone.”
“I don’t want you next to me for that,” she said. Her voice shook at the end. For a second she didn’t look angry. She just looked tired.
The baby started to fuss. A thin cry. I bounced her the way I always did, small and steady. “Shh. It’s okay. I got you.” I kept my eyes on Daddy so I wouldn’t have to look at all the guests.
He put a hand lightly on my back, between my shoulder blades. Warm through my cardigan. “We’ll step out first,” he told the bride. “Let the minister make the announcement. We can talk logistics after — rides, the deposit, all that. The kids come first right now.”
May you like
She looked at the baby for a long moment. Her face softened, then hardened again. “You need to get them somewhere quiet. She’s exhausted.” She nodded at me. “Both of them are.”
It was the first almost-kind thing she had said. I didn’t say thank you. I just held on tighter.
