Unfinished Business

sight before opening the door. Mass confusion entered. Joanie was arguing with Brady about the proper way to pin a boutonniere. Jack claimed his wife had tied his tie so tight that he couldn’t breathe, much less talk. Ham paced the length of the house and back again before Vanessa could nudge him outside.

    “You brought the dog,” Vanessa said, staring at Kong, who had a red carnation pinned jauntily to his collar.
    “He’s family,” Brady claimed. “I couldn’t hurt his feelings.”
    “Maybe a leash?” she suggested.
    “Don’t be insulting.”
    “He’s sniffing at Reverend Taylor’s shoes.”
    “With any luck, that’s all he’ll do to Reverend Taylor’s shoes.” He turned back to her as she stifled a giggle. “You were right.”
    “About what?”
    “You can look better.”
    She was wearing a thin, summery dress with yards of skirt in a bold floral print. Its snug contrasting bodice was a rich teal blue, with a bandeau collar that left the curve of her shoulders bare. The gold rope around her neck, and her braided earrings, matched the bracelet she had given Loretta.
    “So can you.” In a natural movement, she reached up to straighten the knot in the dark blue tie he was wearing with an oyster-colored suit. “I guess we’re all set.”
    “We’re still missing something.”
    She looked around quickly. The baskets of flowers were in place. Joanie was brushing imaginary dust off her father’s sleeve while Reverend Taylor cooed over Lara and tried to avoid Kong. The wedding bells were twirling slowly in the light breeze.
    “What?”
    “The bride.”
    “Oh, Lord. I forgot. I’ll go get her.” Turning, Vanessa raced into the house. She found Loretta in the music room, sitting on the piano stool taking long, deep breaths. “Are you ready?”
    She took one more. “Yes.” Rising, she walked through the house. But at the back door she paused and groped for Vanessa’s hand. Together they crossed the lawn. With each step, Ham’s smile grew wider, her mother’s hand steadier. They stopped in front of the minister. Vanessa released her mother’s hand, stepped back and took Brady’s.
    “Dearly beloved…” the minister began.
    She watched her mother marry under the shade of the maple with paper wedding bells swaying.
    “You may kiss the bride,” the minister intoned. A cheer went up from neighboring yards where people had gathered. The camera clicked as Ham brought Loretta close for a long, full-bodied kiss that brought on more whistles and shouts.
    “Nice job,” Brady said as he embraced his father.
    Vanessa put her confused emotions on hold and turned to hug her mother. “Best wishes, Mrs. Tucker.”
    “Oh, Van.”
    “No crying yet. We’ve still got lots of pictures to take.”
    With a squeal, Joanie launched herself at them both. “Oh, I’m so happy.” She plucked Lara from Jack’s arms. “Give your grandma a kiss.”
    “Grandma,” Loretta whispered, and with a watery laugh she swung Lara into her arms. “Grandma.”
    Brady laid an arm over Vanessa’s shoulders. “How do you feel, Aunt Van?”
    “Amazed.” She laughed up at him as Mrs. Driscoll’s grandson’s brother-in-law scurried around snapping pictures. “Let’s go pour the champagne.”
     
    Two hours later, she was in the Tucker backyard, hauling a tray of hamburger patties to the grill.
    “I thought your father always did the honors,” she said to Brady.

    “He passed his spatula down to me.” He had his suit coat off now, his sleeves rolled up and his tie off. Smoke billowed up from the grill as meat sizzled. He flipped a patty expertly.
    “You do that very well.”
    “You should see me with a scalpel.”
    “I’ll pass, thanks.” She shifted to avoid being mowed down by two running boys. “The picnic’s just like I remember. Crowded, noisy and chaotic.”
    People milled around in the yard, in the house, even spilled out along the sidewalks. Some sat at the long picnic tables or on the grass. Babies were passed from hand to hand. The old sat in the shade waving at flies as they gossiped and reminisced. The young ran in the sunshine.
    Someone had brought a huge portable stereo. Music poured from the rear corner of the yard, where a group of teenagers had gathered to flirt.
    “We’d have been there just a few years back,” Brady commented.
    “You mean you’re too old to hang around a boom box now?”
    “No. But they think I am. Now I’m Dr. Tucker—as opposed to my father, who’s Doc