The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks Read Free Book Online Page B

breakfast.” She was about to turn before I was able to break the spell I seemed to be under.
    “Jane?” I blurted out.
    “Yes?”
    I cleared my throat. “Maybe I could walk you to your car again sometime. Even if it’s not raining.”
    She studied me for a moment before answering. “That would be nice, Wilson.”
    “Maybe later today?”
    She smiled. “Sure.”
    When she turned, I spoke again.
    “And Jane?”
    This time she glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
    Finally understanding the real reason I had come, I put both hands on my textbook, trying to draw strength from a world that I understood. “Would you like to have dinner with me this weekend?”
    She seemed amused that it had taken me so long to ask.
    “Yes, Wilson,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”
    It was hard to believe that here we were, more than three decades later, sitting with our daughter discussing her upcoming wedding.   Anna’s surprise request for a simple, quick wedding was met with utter silence.   At first Jane seemed thunderstruck, but then, regaining her senses, she began to shake her head, whispering with mounting urgency, “No, no, no . . .” In retrospect, her reaction was hardly unexpected. I suppose that one of the moments a mother looks most forward to in life is when a daughter gets married.   An entire industry has been built up around weddings, and it’s only natural that most mothers have expectations about the way it’s supposed to be. Anna’s ideas presented a sharp contrast to what Jane had always wanted for her daughters, and though it was Anna’s wedding, Jane could no more escape her beliefs than she could her own past.
    Jane didn’t have a problem with Anna and Keith marrying on our anniversary—she of all people knew the state of Noah’s health, and Anna and Keith were, in fact, moving in a couple of weeks—but she didn’t like the idea of them getting married by a justice of the peace. Nor was she pleased that there were only eight days to make the arrangements and that Anna intended to keep the celebration small.   I sat in silence as the negotiations began in earnest. Jane would say, “What about the Sloans? They would be heartbroken if you didn’t invite them. Or John Peterson? He taught you piano for years, and I know how much you liked him.” “But it’s no big deal,” Anna would repeat. “Keith and I already live together.
    Most people act like we’re already married anyway.”
    “But what about a photographer? Surely you want some pictures.” “I’m sure lots of people will bring cameras,” Anna would counter. “Or you could do it. You’ve taken thousands of pictures over the years.” At that, Jane would shake her head and launch into an impassioned speech about how it was going to be the most important day in her life, to which Anna would respond that it would still be a marriage even without all the trimmings. It wasn’t hostile, but it was clear they had reached an impasse.   I am in the habit of deferring to Jane in most matters of this sort, especially when they involve the girls, but I realized that I had something to add in this instance, and I sat up straighter on the couch.
    “Maybe there’s a compromise,” I interjected.
    Anna and Jane turned to look at me.
    “I know your heart is set on next weekend,” I said to Anna, “but would you mind if we invited a few extra people, in addition to the family? If we help with all the arrangements?”
    “I don’t know that we have enough time for something like that . . . ,” Anna began.
    “Would it be all right if we try?”
    The negotiations continued for an hour after that, but in the end, a few compromises resulted. Anna, it seemed, was surprisingly agreeable once I’d spoken up. She knew a pastor, she said, and she was sure he would agree to do the ceremony next weekend. Jane appeared happy and relieved as the initial plans began to take form.
    Meanwhile, I was thinking about not only my daughter’s