I wanted to thank Anna most of all. None of this would have been possible without her willing participation, and it couldn’t have been easy for her. She’d had to watch every word she said, all the while keeping Jane preoccupied. It had been quite a burden for Keith, too, and I found myself thinking that one day, he would indeed make a fine son-in-law. When he and Anna did decide to get married, I promised myself that Anna would get exactly the kind of wedding she wanted, no matter what it cost.

Leslie had been an immense help, too. It was she who had talked Jane into staying in Greensboro, and she was the one who drove to the store to buy Anna’s matching dress before bringing it home. Even more, it was she I called upon for ideas to make the wedding as beautiful as possible. With her love of romantic movies, she’d been a natural, and it had been her idea to hire both Harvey Wellington and John Peterson.

Then, of course, there was Joseph. He had been the least excited of my children when I’d told him what I intended to do, but I suppose I should have expected that. What I didn’t expect was the weight of his hand on my shoulder as we stood beneath the trellis, waiting for Jane to arrive.

“Hey, Pop?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

He smiled. “I just want you to know that I’m honored that you asked me to be your best man.”

At his words, my throat tightened. “Thank you,” was all I could say.

The wedding was all I hoped it would be. I’ll never forget the hushed excitement of the crowd or the way people craned their necks to see my daughters making their way down the aisle; I’ll never forget how my hands began to shake when I heard the first chords of the “Wedding March” or how radiant Jane looked as she was escorted down the aisle by her father.

With her veil in place, Jane seemed like a lovely, young bride. With a bouquet of tulips and miniature roses clasped loosely in her hands, she seemed to glide down the aisle. At her side, Noah beamed with undisguised pleasure, every inch the proud father.

At the head of the aisle, he and Jane stopped and Noah slowly raised her veil. After kissing her on the cheek, he whispered something in her ear, then took his seat in the front row, right next to Kate. Beyond them, I could see women in the crowd already dabbing their tears with handkerchiefs.

Harvey opened the ceremony with a prayer of thanks. After asking us to face each other, he spoke then of love and renewal and the effort it entailed. Throughout the ceremony, Jane squeezed my hands tightly, her eyes never leaving my own.

When the time came, I asked Joseph for the rings. For Jane, I’d bought a diamond anniversary band; for myself, I’d bought a duplicate of the one I’d always worn, one that seemed to shine with the hope of better things to come.

We renewed the vows we had spoken long ago and slipped the rings on each other’s fingers. When the time came to kiss the bride, I did so to the sounds of cheering, whistles, and applause and an explosion of camera flashbulbs.

The reception went on until midnight. Dinner was magnificent, and John Peterson was in wonderful form on the piano. Each of the children offered a toast—as did I, to offer my thanks for what everyone had done. Jane couldn’t stop smiling.

After dinner, we moved away some of the tables, and Jane and I danced for hours. In the moments she took to catch her breath, she peppered me with questions that had plagued me during most of my waking moments this week.

“What if someone had let the secret slip?”

“But they didn’t,” I answered.

“But what if they had?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just hoped that if someone did slip, you’d think you heard them wrong. Or that you wouldn’t believe I’d be crazy enough to do such a thing.”

“You put a lot of trust in a lot of people.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’m thankful they proved me right.”

“Me too. This is the most wonderful night of my life.” She hesitated as she glanced around the room. “Thank you, Wilson. For every single bit of it.”

I put my arm around her. “You’re welcome.”

As the clock edged toward midnight, the guests began to leave. Each of them shook my hand on the way out and offered Jane a hug. When Peterson finally closed the lid on the piano, Jane thanked him profusely. Impulsively, he kissed her on the cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he said.

Harvey Wellington and his wife were among the last to leave, and Jane and I walked with them out onto the porch. When Jane thanked Harvey for officiating, he shook his head. “No need for thanks. There’s nothing more wonderful than being part of something like this. It’s what marriage is all about.”

Jane smiled. “I’ll give you a call so we can all have dinner together.”

“I’d like that.”

The kids were gathered around one of the tables, quietly rehashing the evening, but other than that, the house was quiet. Jane joined them at the table, and as I stood behind her, I glanced around the room and realized that Noah had slipped away unnoticed.

He’d been strangely quiet most of the evening, and I thought he might have gone outside to stand on the back porch in the hope of being alone. I’d found him there earlier, and to be frank, I was a little worried about him. It had been a long day, and with the hour getting late, I wanted to ask him whether he wanted to head back to Creekside. When I stepped onto the porch, however, I didn’t see him.

I was just about to go back inside to check the rooms upstairs when I spotted a solitary figure standing by the bank of the river in the distance. How I was able to see him, I’ll never be sure, but perhaps I caught sight of the backs of his hands moving in the darkness. Wearing his tuxedo jacket, he was otherwise lost in the nighttime surroundings.

I debated whether or not to call out, then decided against it. For some reason, I had the feeling that he didn’t want anyone else to know he was out there. Curious, however, I hesitated only briefly before making my way down the steps. I began moving in his direction.

Above me, the stars were out in full, and the air was fresh with the earthy scent of the low country. My shoes made soft scraping sounds on the gravel, but once I reached the grass, the ground began to slope, gradually at first, then steeper. I found it difficult to keep my balance amid the thickening vegetation. Pushing branches away from my face, I couldn’t figure out why—or how—Noah had gone this way.