Things Worth Remembering Read Free Page A

always thought her involvement would have made it easier to walk down the aisle without a father by my side.
    There was nothing atypical about my mother’s choice; I should have expected it. But her abdication of even this unique opportunity struck me as sad well before I had a daughter of my own and found Mother’s choice unfathomable. Long before Maisey held out her hand and showed us her engagement ring, I began anticipating the days we would spend together preparing for her wedding.
    But she has not wanted any help, or at least she has not wanted my help. She has taken care of everything. When people ask me for details about the wedding, I smile and say, “It’s a surprise.”
    Irony upon irony.
    Dwelling on irony is as unproductive as wishing for sleep.
    Clearly, I was fretting—big time.
    Recalling the alternatives from Psalm 37, I did the one thing that can always calm my restless soul. I turned my worries and sorrows into prayers. I had only two petitions as I lay there. I asked God to supernaturally intervene so that Maisey’s wedding will be as wonderful as we imagined it would be when she was a child. And I asked him to please help me sleep.
    And he did. Five hours is better than none.
    Do I hear six?
    I throw my arm over Luke, yawn deeply, and close my eyes.
    Maisey
    I open my eyes and see the daisies.
    They have danced around my window frames since I was twelve years old.
    One week before I turned fourteen, I announced that all I wanted for my birthday was to have my yellow room painted lavender. Dad lowered his paper and said, “You’re kidding. Why would you want that? You love your room.”
    Loved , Dad, loved . I had loved it a lot.
    I just shrugged my shoulders. I had a reason, that’s for sure, but I would never have told him what it was, not in a million years.
    Mom stopped sweeping the kitchen and looked horrified.
    “I’m sorry, honey,” she finally said, “but we already have your present.”
    They said we could talk about lavender later, but I’m twenty-two and getting married in five days, and here I am in my yellow room staring at the happy little daisies. I’m sure they’re here to stay.
    I hear a tap on the door and am relieved to hear Marcus whispering, “Maisey!”
    I sit up and finger comb my hair, hoping to look at least decent.
    “Come in!” I call, so ready to see him.
    When he opens the door and stands there in his T-shirt and cargo shorts, his dark hair still damp from a shower, I am struck by his beauty—even two years and four months after I first laid eyes on him.
    He leaves the door ajar and walks across the room. Pulling up my bedspread, he places the extra pillow vertically against the headboard and leans against it. He stretches out his long legs and crosses them at the ankles, and I notice once again what nice feet he has.
    “Good morning,” he says, leaning over to kiss me.
    I turn so that his kiss lands on my cheek. Covering my mouth, I warn, “Morning breath.”
    Fearless, he moves my hand, gives me a quick kiss on my mouth, leans back, and smiles.
    “Up and at ’em,” he says. “Your folks will have breakfast ready soon.”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “You should be. You had a granola bar for dinner.”
    “I had two . Maybe I’m just too excited to eat. And I want to fit into my wedding dress. It’s soooo beautiful!”
    “So you’ve said. Let’s see it.”
    “Like that’s going to happen. Saturday’s coming. Besides, even if I wanted to show it to you, which I most certainly do not, I couldn’t. Gram’s bringing it with her on Friday.”
    “She’s coming that early, huh? I figured she’d swoop in around six on Saturday, drive straight to the church.”
    “Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?”
    “Maybe, but I’m not wrong about breakfast. You need to eat, so would you please get in the shower?”
    “I thought we were supposed to have some lazy days before the craziness begins.”
    “You’re awake. What’s the problem? Come on.