Chapter 2 - The Chain Under My Dress
He didn't move at first. He just stayed in front of us with his arm out a little, like he was blocking the wind. I could feel his jacket brush my cheek when he breathed. The baby was heavy against my chest and my arms were shaking underneath her blanket.
The bride was still right there. I could see her shoes past his leg, white and pointed, and the bottom of her dress where it pooled on the marble. She'd let go of my arm when he stepped in, but her hand was still up in the air like she wasn't done.
I kept looking at him. At his chin. At his bow tie that was a little crooked now. I said it again in my head even though I didn't say it out loud. Daddy.
My right hand was pinned under the baby. I couldn't let go of her. I never let go of her. So I shifted her just a little to my left shoulder, tucking her head into the curve of my neck. She made a small sound and her warm breath hit my skin. I held her tighter with my left arm and let my right hand slip free for a second.
The chain was under my dress. It stuck when I was sweating.
I had to look down to do it. I ducked my chin and pulled at the neck of my dress with two fingers. The fabric pulled against my throat. My cardigan sleeve slid down over my wrist. I could hear the guests behind us, chairs creaking, somebody whispering. I didn't look at them.
With my thumb and first finger I found it. Thin. Cold. It caught on my skin when I tugged. I had to pull slow so it wouldn't snap. One inch, then another. The little links dragged across my collarbone. My hand shook and I almost dropped it back inside.
He looked down because I looked down. I saw his eyes move. He opened his hand without thinking about it, just held his palm out low beside me, like he was catching something I was about to drop.
I remembered what I was supposed to do. Keep it hidden until I found him. Then give it to him so he'd know.
I lifted the chain all the way out. It swung for a second in the chapel light, too bright to look at straight. Then I laid it across his palm.
It didn't make any noise. It just settled there in a little pile against his skin.
He stared at it.
His fingers didn't close. His hand just stayed open and still. I watched his face change. His mouth was open a little from when he'd said, "All right, don't touch those children," but no other words came out. His eyes got wider and he didn't blink. He looked from the chain to me, and then down at the baby, and then back at the chain.
The air in the aisle felt different. Behind us, the whispering got louder. I heard chairs move on the marble. Somewhere to the side there was a click, then no more clicks. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the man with the camera lower it from his face and just hold it against his stomach.
Nobody told the music to stop but there wasn't any music anymore.
The bride stepped around him so I could see her whole face again. Her veil had slipped back over one shoulder. She looked at his open hand, at the silver line across it, and then at me.
May you like
She wanted him to say something. I could tell by how she kept glancing from him to the guests and back again. Her hand went to his sleeve. She tugged once, hard.
He didn't answer her. He didn't look at her. He just kept staring at what I'd put in his hand, and the longer he stared without speaking, the more still the whole chapel got, until even the baby went quiet against me and I could hear my own breathing.
