I should have known better.
The church doors opened.
The organ swelled into the wedding march. Three hundred people stood up all at once with a sound like wind.
I looked down the long aisle. It was St. Matthew’s, the big stone church where my parents had been members for thirty years. The church where Paige and Lauren had both been married. Twice.
At the very end, under the stained glass, Daniel was standing next to the priest in his dark blue suit. When he saw me, his face did something I’ll never forget. It just opened up. Like the sun coming out.
We started walking.
Grandpa was slow. His cane tapped on the stone floor. Tap, step. Tap, step. His left foot dragged a little. I matched my steps to his.
I could hear people whispering as we passed.
“Is that Arthur Whitfield?”
“I thought he had dementia.”
