At their first daughter’s wedding, she was thrilled. He was a little less than thrilled. She had made the dress and veil. She had bought herself a new pink dress, bag, and shoes. She had her hair done at the salon and got a new blush compact with a mirror so she could check how she looked after the ceremony. She wanted everything to be perfect. He fit himself into a suit with a white jacket (why a white jacket?) and nearly strangled himself putting on a bow-tie. He had to stand a lot that day, even though he had hurt his foot at work the week before. Plus, the annoying little carnation kept falling off his lapel. He wanted everything to be over. As she watched him walk their daughter down the aisle, he was grinning despite his disapproval. He was thinking about seeing her walk toward him in her white dress, years ago. The way she floated. How she glowed.