Epilogue #2
Philip smiles and bows graciously to my dad, conceding the point.
After we exchange partners, Dad whisks me away, and Philip dances with Erin. I bite back a smile when I realize Erin—Philip’s possible future stepmother-in-law—is several years younger than he is.
“What’s so funny?” Dad asks me. He’s smiling and looks like he’s having a good time.
“If Philip and I get married, he’ll be older than his stepmother-in-law.”
Dad’s smile fades a bit, and I can see him doing the math. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
I laugh because it’s not often I see my dad speechless.
“You look beautiful, Haley,” he says, quickly changing the subject.
I smile. “So do you.”
My dad looks very handsome in his dark suit with a pale gray dress shirt and a darker gray tie.
The current song ends, and another one starts up. Before we take more than a few steps, Dave and Mom appear beside us.
Dave taps my dad on the shoulder. “My turn, buddy.”
As Dave swings me away, I look back to see my dad dancing with my mom.
It’s always bittersweet to see the two of them together.
When I was younger, I always imagined what life would have been like if they’d gotten married after high school and stayed together.
I used to imagine the three of us as a family.
Now, I wouldn’t change anything because I know they’re both very happily in love with their respective spouses.
Even though it must have been a difficult choice, I think they made the right choice.
Ian dances with his sister, and then Tyler, Ian’s husband, steals her away from Ian.
Tyler looks very dashing in a dark suit and tie.
Ian is wearing sage green trousers and a cream-colored silk shirt that match his sister’s wedding colors.
When Jason claims his new wife for another dance, Tyler dances with Ian.
Philip manages to steal me back for a couple of dances before it’s time for hot hors d’oeuvres, champagne, and wedding cake. There’s a bottle of sparkling grape juice for those of us who are under age—that would be me and Jason’s little niece and nephew.
“At least I don’t have to sit at the kids’ table,” I say with a laugh as Philip brings me a glass of the grape juice. I’m not surprised that he has one for himself because he never drinks alcohol if he’s going to be driving me anywhere.
The hors d’oeuvres are fantastic, of course. The wedding cake—four layers of vanilla cake iced with alternating layers of cream and sage green and decorated with edible little gold beads and sprigs of baby’s breath—is divine. Gina Capelli, a close friend of the McIntyres, catered the event.
Philip holds up his glass to me for a toast. “To the happy bride and groom. May they always have smooth sailing. And to us.”
I touch my glass to his. “I’ll drink to that. To the happy couple, and to us and our happily ever after.”
* * *
Thank you for reading Haley and Philip’s story.