At the back of the sanctuary during the rehearsal, Reverend Price gives instructions to Jack, bridesmaids Gloria and Kathy (vagabond April could not be located), and groomsmen, Jack’s brother, Danny, and Kenny. Saffee and Nels stand in the vestibule, her arm encircling his, waiting for their cue to walk the aisle.
The organist runs through pieces she has chosen to play. Saffee, not knowing the names of traditional wedding music, has given her free rein, only specifying classical. She has only attended a couple of weddings in her life and, unlike her friends in the dormitory, never tried to imagine her own.
The mother of the bride sits alone in a pew down in front, to the right of the aisle. From time to time, Saffee casts a worried look in her direction.
“Daddy, I’m so nervous I can hardly stand up.”
“Why? Jack is a good man.” He pats her hand. He has misunderstood her, but the unusual, small gesture makes her feel close to him.
“Not nervous about being married, but about getting married. Mostly I’m worried Mother will do something to ruin the ceremony.”
“Don’t worry. She’s doin’ fine. I’m makin’ sure she’s takin’ her medicine.” He sounds matter-of-fact, then becomes more serious, his voice husky. “Anyway, a weddin’ ceremony’s short. It’s the marriage that’s . . .” He doesn’t finish. The reference to his own experience is obvious. Was it an attempt to caution her? Counsel her? If so, it would have been a first.
Since the last hospitalization, Joann has rallied, enabling her to be present at this first family wedding. The hiatus has allowed her and Nels to move into a double-wide mobile home in Red Bridge, leaving wagging tongues behind. The Miller’s Ford house sold two weeks ago.
When they arrived at the church a half hour earlier, Saffee immediately introduced Jack to her mother. Joann’s pale countenance bore the marks of illness. She extended her hand, laughed nervously, turning her head to the side. Saffee sensed that she might be pleased about the marriage but was too self-conscious to say anything appropriate to her almost-son-in-law. Perhaps it had been unfair that Saffee had not arranged for them to meet earlier.
She looks down the long center aisle, flanked by empty pews. Tomorrow evening most of the guests will be Andrews family friends and relatives, people Saffee doesn’t know. The ushers, Jack’s cousins, have been instructed to seat guests on either side of the aisle.
Following instructions, the attendants move to the front of the church. Saffee continues to wait at the back beside the man she has always called “Daddy.” Years ago, didn’t Joann often refer to her as “Daddy’s little girl”? He has been a long-distance father, preoccupied with necessary matters, but as her daddy, he has been the most important man in her life. Tomorrow, a different man will claim that place. In spite of her eagerness, her hands are clammy. She wipes them on her linen skirt.
“We’ve already took everythin’ we’re gonna need outta the house,” Nels tells her. “We give possession in about ten days. You and Jack should drive over to Miller’s Ford, see if there’s anythin’ there you want. ’Fraid we din’t leave much. What you don’t take, I’ll try to sell.”
“Thanks, Daddy. We’ve taken a week off work, you know. Going to spend three or four days at a place near Wisconsin Dells,” she says. “We’ll try to drive over when we get back.” Saffee has no intention of dragging any reminders of her childhood into her new life.
“Did you take the Norway table with you?” She could have asked about any number of items, why does she wonder about this one?
“No,” he says. “Way too big. The new place is pretty small.”
Saffee survives the wedding. Barely. The mother of the bride shows little interest in the groom and has a vehement temper tantrum about her corsage in the bridal dressing room moments before the ceremony. Saffee had no idea that certain flowers have a snoot factor and those she had selected for Joann were “low class.” The altercation makes Saffee’s nose run and tears stream as she walks down the aisle on her father’s arm, devastated. By the time she joins Jack at the altar she is still sniffling, but wears a smile that says she has never been happier.
At the reception in the church parlor she stands dazed and as close to her new husband as possible. She does her best to greet each guest, cut the cake, and pose for pictures. Terribly uncomfortable being the center of attention, and on impulse after forty minutes, she whispers to Jack, “Let’s go.”
“You mean leave? Already?”