Page 107 of Fathers of the Bride
“Andy!” Miles called out.
“I’m right here.”
“Good. You and I will be waiting over here by the string musicians. I went ahead and stood next to him. Kelly will come out of the house and walk to the top of the stairs.” To Kelly, he said, “Wait there and we’ll join you on either side.”
“Right or left,” I asked.
That seemed like one decision too many. I always slept on the left side of the bed so I said, “How about I’m left, you’re right.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
Then, I noticed that Avery was standing right next to Kelly. Which was cute, but wrong. Under my breath I said to Miles, “Groom.”
He glanced around a moment and then saw.
“Okay, backup. Avery, about five minutes before everything starts, you need to be on the bottom terrace waiting with Lucas. And your groomsmen. Man. Groomsman.” We both glanced down at the lowest terrace. It was empty.
“Lucas!” Miles called out.
“I’m right here,” he said from the house.
“Bottom terrace.”
“Lowest terrace, please,” he joked. “We don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”
“Move,” Miles said.
Avery, his groomsman and Lucas all scurried down to the lowest terrace. We took our positions with Kelly. Glancing over, I saw that Miles’ eyes were beginning to tear up.
Well, of course they were. Our little girl was getting married. That meant she wasn’t our little girl anymore. She was an adult woman. She might want us around, she might even need us around, but it will never be the same. She will always need the young man walking down the steps in our backyard more than she needs either of her fathers.
God, I was being sentimental. And sexist. We raised our girl to take care of herself. She didn’t need us, hadn’t needed us for a very long time. And she certainly didn’tneedAvery. What was that thing Gloria Steinem said? A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. Yeah, that’s it. Of course, that’s kind of dumb, too, if you think about it. Yes, a fish doesn’tneeda bicycle, but why would a fishwanta bicycle? Ideally, a woman shouldwant—
“Earth to Andy,” Miles said.
“I’m here.”
“Good,” he said. “Step-stop. Step-stop.”
And we began down the terraces with our beautiful daughter between us. Loudly, so everyone could hear him, Miles said, “During the cocktail hour the caterer waiters will be handing out butterflies in envelopes along with the sparkling wine. As we walk down the steps of the terraces, our guests will open the envelopes and the butterflies should fly out. You don’t have to do anything. I just don’t want any of you to be surprised.”
We reached the lowest terrace and stood back while Kelly joined Avery. “Now, I assume you’ve written your own vows,” Miles said to the bride and groom.
Avery paled, while Kelly shook her head. Kelly took a tiny step closer to us, “Actually, we were wondering if we could use the vows you and Papa used?”
“Yes, could we?” Avery added.
“Of course, you can,” Miles said. “I’ll have to look around and find them. I’m sure I kept them. Somewhere.”
“I, Andrew Lane, promise to cherish you every single day,” I began. I hadn’t kept my vows in a drawer somewhere. I’d kept them in my heart. “…to love you, support you, protect you and to spend the rest of my life making you a happy man.”
Teary eyed, Miles said, “God, now I wish I remembered mine.”
“I remember them,” I said. “You replied, ‘I, Miles Kettering, do hereby swear to love you no matter what, to stand by you no matter what, and to always be yours no matter what.”
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Miles Kettering-Lane
