There, hanging in Margaret’s hallway, was the picture.
Nathan at the altar.
His speech in his hands.
The photograph had been professionally framed in something that looked expensive enough to require its own insurance policy.
I couldn’t believe it.
Daniel later told me that whenever visitors asked about it, Margaret explained proudly:
“That’s Sarah’s brother, Nathan. Their father died before the wedding, so Nathan walked her down the aisle.”
Then she always added one more thing.
“He practiced for three weeks because he wanted to get it right.”
Apparently, she told the story as though it were one of her favorite things about our family.
Maybe eventually it became exactly that.
Part 7 — What Nathan Knows
I never told Nathan what Margaret said that night.
He doesn’t know there was ever a discussion about whether he should walk beside me.
He doesn’t know someone once worried that his face would appear in too many wedding photographs.
