It is now less than one hour before show time. A cab is called to ferry the excess relatives over to the church. We do our version of an Indy road race to arrive five minutes before the curtain. Jennifer is still calm and happy. Everyone starts to line up.
Bridesmaids are in line, the bride is ready, the church is full.
The temperature inside would put an industrial microwave to shame. At this point Jennifer turns, her eyes well up, takes off the ring of flowers from her head and buries her face into my trousers. No amount of pleading, coaxing, begging will convince her to release my leg. The dream of an emotional bliss, wrapped in white lace and flowers falls to the ground to join with her tears. The procession moves off down the aisle.