The regular wedding album was beautiful.
The second one was better.
It began with Nathan getting ready.
Dad’s cufflinks.
Nathan checking the time.
Nathan standing alone at the church doors with his arm out.
Then the walk.
Page after page.
His face concentrating.
My hand around his arm.
His lips moving as he counted.
The moment he looked at me halfway down.
Daniel hugging him.
Then the speech.
One double-page spread showed Nathan at the altar holding the paper in both hands while everyone in the pews behind him blurred into tears.
I cried all over again.
We hosted dinner the following Sunday.
Daniel’s parents came.
So did Mom.
Nathan was there too, discussing a football game with Daniel as though he hadn’t emotionally destroyed an entire church eight weeks earlier.
