Page 118 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

Grandma reaches for a tissue. “The child is right.”

Then Mom laughs too, and then she cries a little, which makes Maya cry, which makes one of the makeup ladies cry, and then I have to hand out tissues like I work there.

By the time we get to the wedding place, I know three things.

One, weddings involve too many adults asking if you have the rings when you are not the ring kid. Two, Maya can walk in heels and still boss everyone around, which I respect.

Three, my dad is not handling this nearly as well as he thinks he is.

I know this since I see him before Mom does.

I’m supposed to stay hidden with her until the music starts, but I peek through the side door anyway. Dad is standing up front with Daniel beside him, and he looks very handsome and also very stressed. His suit is dark, his tie is straight, and his hair is behaving for once.

He also looks like he accidentally drank too much electricity.

Daniel says something to him.

Dad doesn’t answer.

Daniel says something else.

Dad finally mutters back, “If you say one more thing, I’m removing you from the wedding.”

Daniel grins.

Then Dad looks toward the doors, like he can feel Mom before he sees her, and that’s when I know he’s done for. Not bad done for. Love done for. If she told him to jump into the harbor in fancy shoes, I really think he might ask how deep.

The music starts.

I take my basket and stand where they told me to stand and try very hard to remember that flower girls are not supposed to run. The doors open, and Mom steps in beside me with Grandma on one side and Maya fixing the train behind us. The whole room stands up all at once.

Mom squeezes my hand for one second.

Then we walk.

I throw the flower petals the way I practiced, not too many at once, not all in one lump, and I do not trip even though my shiny shoes are probably planning something. People smile at me as I go by, but I mostly ignore them since this is not their main event.

Dad is looking at Mom.

Only Mom.

He isn’t looking at the flowers or the guests or Daniel or even me in all my flower-girl greatness. He just looks at her like every bad thing that ever happened got pushed out of the room the second she came in.

When we get to the front, I go stand where I’m supposed to with my basket and my hands folded and my best serious face. Grandma kisses Mom’s cheek and steps aside, and then Mom is standing there in front of Dad and he lets out this quiet breath that I only hear since I’m close enough.

“Hi,” Mom says, and her voice shakes a little.

Dad looks wrecked in a very expensive way. “You’re breathtaking.”

I feel very smug about being right.

The wedding part is mostly beautiful and a little too long, which I think is a fair review. But I like the important parts.

I like when the person up front talks about choosing each other after fear.

I like when Mom says Dad’s whole name in that quiet voice she uses when she means every word.

I like when Dad says, “I love you, Athena, and I choose you every day after this one,” and half the room sniffs.