THE FATHER OF THE BRIDE
by Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
Our mother gasped as she read the wedding invitation. “I can't believe you did that!”
My sister Katrina smiled, innocence dotting her lips, as she took the card from our mother's hands.
Lovingly eyeing the script inside, she told us, “The printer said they could put a pale blue edge on them, but I like the ivory like it is all by itself.” Closing the invitation, Katrina set it on the table.
Her unrelenting smile made our mother fume - the way she had of pursing her lips tight-had her rising from the table, leaving it, then the restaurant altogether.
Weeks later, our mother was further angered when the official wedding party was announced.
“How could you do this to your father?” she demanded.
“Everything I do, I'm doing because of my father,” Katrina replied.
I was one year old and Mom was six months pregnant with Katrina when Steven Roberts, our father, but not our mother's husband, walked out of our lives.
Dan Cameron came along eventually, marrying our mother and adopting Katrina and me. We were picture perfect until Mr. Roberts reentered.
He wooed our mother but not my sister or me from the Cameron household.
Now Katrina is getting married and Mr. Roberts wants to be a part, but she's made her choice.
It had always been his dream: to walk his princesses down the aisle. That's what our mother said in Mr. Roberts' defense.
“He said it was all he ever thought about,” Mom said.
Katrina rolled her eyes. “Even it that were true, “she said, “he should've thought about us eating.”
Our mother said nothing, suddenly quiet as Steven Roberts had been all the years of our lives.
