Florence looked toward the ceremony.
“I need to tell everyone.”
She walked back herself.
Steve joined me behind her.
Florence stood where she’d been about to take her vows less than half an hour earlier.
“I need to tell everyone.”
The conversations faded.
Jeremy stayed near the side of the garden.
Florence held the microphone.
“I’m sorry.” She looked down once at her shoes. “We’re not getting married today.”
A murmur moved through the guests.
“We’re not getting married today.”
Florence waited.
“I don’t know what happens after today. That’s why I can’t do this today.”
That was all.
No explanation about Jeremy.
No accusation.
No story about Frankie.
Just an answer that belonged entirely to her.
“I don’t know what happens after today.”
When she handed the microphone back, she came straight to me.
“Can people still eat?”
I laughed through the tears I’d been trying not to shed.
“Yes, sweetheart. People can eat.”
“Can people still eat?”
***
Some guests left, but most close family stayed. Nobody knew what to call the meal, so we stopped trying.
I found Frankie beside his motorcycle.
He was fastening his helmet.
“Frankie?”
He turned.
I held up the empty pink bag Florence had left with me.
I found Frankie beside his motorcycle.
“Why pink?”
He glanced at it.
“Only one the drugstore had.”
I laughed.
Then I said, “Thank you.”
He shook his head.
“She called me.”
“Why pink?”
Before he put on his helmet, I asked one more question.
“Why did you remember those shoes?”
Frankie looked toward the garden, where Florence’s red sneakers showed beneath her white dress.
“She bought them with her first paycheck.”
“Why did you remember those shoes?”
I stared at him.
I’d forgotten that.
Frankie hadn’t.
“Nobody liked them,” he added.
Then he put on his helmet and rode away.
I’d forgotten that.
I stood there holding the ridiculous pink bag.
Nobody liked them.
Not Frankie.
Not me.
Certainly not Jeremy.
And Florence had worn them until the soles nearly gave out anyway.
Nobody liked them.
Later, I found the pristine wedding heels in the bridal room.
I carried them outside.
Florence was sitting with Steve near the reception tables.
I started toward her.
Then I noticed Jeremy approaching from the other side.
I carried them outside.
He stopped in front of Florence.
“I think we should…”
He stopped himself.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Jeremy tried again.
“Do you want me to stay?”
He stopped himself.
Florence looked at him.
“For dinner.”
Jeremy nodded.
“Okay.”
He sat down.
I looked at the expensive heels in my hands.
Then I walked toward my daughter.
I looked at the expensive heels in my hands.
For the first time that day, I knew exactly what I needed to ask her.
I stopped beside Florence and held up the white heels.
“What do you want me to do with these?”
She looked at them.
“What do you want me to do with these?”
For years, I would have supplied options before she answered.
Keep them for pictures.
Change after dinner.
Don’t waste expensive shoes.
This time, I waited.
I would have supplied options.
“Put them in the car.”
“Okay.”
That was it.
No “Are you sure?”
No better suggestion.
I carried them toward the parking lot.
“Put them in the car.”
When I reached the car, I set the spotless heels on the back seat.
Through the window, I could see Florence crossing one red sneaker over the other beneath her wedding dress.
She was laughing at something Steve said.
I closed the door.
I set the spotless heels on the back seat.
