Chapter 6 - The Door Closed Behind Us
The music didn't stop all at once. It thinned out, the way sound does when someone turns a dial down slow. I felt it more than heard it, the bass leaving my chest while Dad's arms came under me and lifted.
I was six and too big to be carried like that, and I knew it. My legs dangled past his hip. My pink tulle skirt caught on his suit button and tore just a little at the edge. I didn't cry out. I tucked my face into the side of his neck where his shirt collar was warm and damp, and I held my hands tight together so the ring wouldn't fall.
I don't remember deciding to keep holding it. I just couldn't open my fingers.
Dad walked fast. The ballroom lights were too bright after all the shouting, the chandeliers throwing little rings of color across the white walls. People moved back to make an aisle for us. I could see shoes — black heels, shiny men's shoes, a bridesmaid's silver sandal with a broken strap. Nobody reached out. That was the strangest part. At a wedding everyone reaches out.
Behind us, Lauren's veil made a soft swishing sound when she hurried. "Daniel, come on. This is getting ridiculous," she said. Her voice had changed. Not angry now. High and light, like she was trying to laugh. "It was a joke. We were going to tell her."
Dad didn't answer. He kept walking toward the side of the ballroom where the floral arch framed a short hallway. A woman with a clipboard was already there, holding a door open. She must have been the coordinator. She didn't look at Lauren. She looked at Dad and nodded once.
The private dressing suite smelled different from the ballroom. Less perfume, more cold air and hairspray. There was a long mirror with bulbs around it, all of them on. A white robe hung over a chair. Lauren's bouquet lay on the vanity, the stems wrapped in ribbon, leaking a little water onto the wood. Someone had left a half-finished soda on the floor by the couch.
Dad set me down on the couch carefully, like I might break. He knelt in front of me and put his hands on my knees. His tie hung forward. "You okay to sit here a minute, bug?" he said, quiet. "I'm right here."
I nodded. My braid had come loose on one side. He smoothed it back with his thumb.
Marcus came in next with his camera still on the gimbal, holding it up and to the side so it wouldn't hit the doorframe. He was breathing a little hard. He set his bag down on the vanity and unzipped it without asking anyone. Inside was a laptop in a padded sleeve, cables coiled neat.
"I need two minutes," he said to Dad. "And an outlet."
The coordinator pointed. "Behind the lamp. That one works."
Lauren came in last. She shut the door herself, hard enough that the mirror rattled. Outside, I could hear the ballroom — a low wash of voices pressed against the wood, then the click of the lock. The room got very quiet.
She stood with her back to the door, arms crossed over her white gown. "You are really doing this?" she said. "In front of my family? You're going to stop my reception for this?"
Dad stood up slowly. He didn't raise his voice. "We're going to look," he said.
Marcus knelt by the outlet and plugged in a power strip. He pulled the laptop out and opened it on the vanity, moving Lauren's bouquet aside an inch to make room. The screen lit blue. He took a cable from his camera and connected it, fingers steady. A little chime sounded when the laptop recognized it.
"Hallway camera ran the whole time," Marcus said, not looking up. "Second camera on the gimbal, but hallway was locked off on the tripod feed. I didn't touch it."
Lauren laughed, a short sound. "Great. So watch your hallway. It was a joke, Daniel. Ask anyone. I told Lily to hold the ring for luck. Right, sweetie?"
She looked at me. Her drop earrings caught the mirror lights.
I stared at my hands. My fingers were white around the ring. I didn't remember her telling me that. I remembered the hallway tile cold under my shoes. I shook my head just once, small.
Dad saw it. He put his hand on my shoulder. It was heavy and warm.
The coordinator stepped closer to the couch. "Lily, I'm Diane," she said softly. "Do you want some water while they set up?"
I nodded because my throat hurt. She handed me a plastic bottle from a little fridge under the vanity. It was too cold. I held it with both hands and didn't drink.
On the laptop, little thumbnails started to fill in rows. Marcus scrolled, then clicked. A progress bar moved. "Almost there," he said.
Lauren pushed off the door. "This is insane," she said, but she came to stand behind the chair anyway. "Play it. You'll see there's nothing."
Dad pulled the chair out and sat down next to me on the edge of the couch, so close our legs touched. He didn't look at Lauren. He looked at the screen.
May you like
Marcus's finger hovered over the space bar. The room held still — the mirror bulbs humming, the soda sweating onto the carpet, my breath loud in my own ears.
"Ready," Marcus said.
