Bea stood beside the empty space where she had planned to get married.
She wasn't wearing the veil. There were no flowers on her shirt. Nate stood a little to one side, leaving her room to speak.
Ruth and I sat near the back. I kept my coat on my lap, with one hand inside the repaired cuff.
Not everyone was there. Some relatives were still on their way to town; others had plans they couldn't change for a Friday evening. Bea had sent them messages. The people in the garden sat quietly, looking at her instead of the flowers.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I'm sorry to change your plans. There won't be a ceremony tomorrow.”
Mother sat in the front row with her bag on the chair beside her.
“We are not simply moving it to another date,” Bea went on. “Nate has told me he can't marry tomorrow. I don't want this wedding to go ahead either. That's my decision.”
She paused. I saw her swallow, then move her hands away from each other so she would stop twisting her fingers.
“I've lied to my sister. She came here not knowing that Nate was the boy she'd gone out with two summers ago. I knew. I hid it from her. She wasn't trying to take him from me.”
Mother shifted in her chair.
“Bea, we don't need everybody's private business—”
“You put Lucy's business in the group.”
Bea said it plainly. Mother stopped, surprised.
“The photograph was of them reading old messages,” Bea said. “I was there. Lucy corrected it, and I still let her be treated as if she'd done something wrong.”
I pressed the cuff between my fingers.
“She's upset,” Mother said to the room. “We all understand that. She never really got over him.”
Bea's face tightened.
“Don't do that.”
“I'm explaining why this week has been so difficult.”
“Then explain what you did.”
Mother looked around. Nobody said anything.
Bea drew a breath.
“Mum sent a rejection to Nate from Lucy's phone that summer. Lucy didn't know. I found out the same week, and Mum offered to pay the deposit and six months' rent for my first flat if I kept quiet. I accepted.”
The garden went very still.
I looked at Bea's face. She hadn't looked at me to see whether I would help her finish.
“I wanted to leave home,” she said. “I let Lucy think she'd been rejected so I could get what I wanted. Then I lied about it again this week. I'm not asking her to make that all right for me.”
Mother stood.
“I helped you. You're making it sound as if I paid for some terrible crime.”
“You helped me if I kept quiet,” Bea said. “I kept quiet.”
An older man in the second row leaned forward. “Parents help with rent, Bea. Are you sure she meant it as a bargain?”
Mother turned toward him, her face easing.
“Yes,” Bea said. “She said she'd pay if I stopped arguing and didn't tell Lucy. I accepted knowing Lucy was hurt.”
The man sat back slowly. Bea stayed facing him until he lowered his eyes, then looked at the rest of the chairs.
Nate stepped forward enough to be seen beside her.
“I knew about all of it three weeks before Lucy came,” he said. “I agreed to keep it from her because I wanted to marry Bea. Then I gave Lucy false answers. That was my choice.”
He didn't look at me. He looked at the people he'd invited to watch him make promises the next day.
“I'm sorry for changing your plans,” he said. “I'll contact anyone who's not here and deal with the things I arranged.”
He stopped there.
Someone murmured near the front. One woman reached for the hand of the man beside her. Somebody looked down at the flowers. Bea waited for the voices to settle without turning toward me.
Mother remained standing.
“Well,” she said. “We have food. We can still have people tomorrow.”
“There won't be the lunch you offered,” Bea said. “I've told the caterer the wedding is cancelled.”
“You might have discussed that with me.”
“I did. You kept telling me to call it a postponement.”
Mother picked up her bag. “You are determined to throw away a perfectly good day.”
Bea didn't answer.
Ruth touched my sleeve. I looked at her and nodded. She stood, and I rose beside her.
Bea saw us move. She didn't ask me to stay.
Mother came toward the back of the chairs.
“Before everyone leaves, we should have one photograph,” she said. “Since we're all here. Show that we're still a family.”
She had already taken her phone out.
“No,” I said.
Her smile stayed in place for a second too long.
“Lucy, don't be difficult.”
“She said no,” Bea said.
Mother turned toward her.
“It's a photograph.”
“Put the phone away.”
Bea was shaking. I could see it now that she had come closer. But her voice didn't shake on those words.
Mother lowered her hand. She didn't put the phone away.
I picked up my coat from the chair and followed Ruth toward the house. Nate moved a box out of the path so we could get through. I nodded to him, then kept walking.
At the front door, Bea caught up with us. She stopped before reaching for me.
“Thank you for coming.”
I looked at her.
“Thank you for saying it.”
Her eyes filled. She nodded.
I didn't hug her. I didn't know whether I wanted to, and I didn't want to do it because the garden was watching through the open door.
Ruth and I went down the path. Behind us, people began speaking softly. Bea turned back toward them instead of following me to the gate.
In the car, I put the coat on. Ruth started the engine and waited for a bicycle to pass before pulling away.
I watched the canopy disappear behind the hedge.
There would be no wedding tomorrow. The people in the garden knew why. Bea had said it, Nate had said it, and I hadn't had to stand at the front and prove I wasn't jealous.
I leaned back against the seat.
“Home?” Ruth asked.
“Your house,” I said.
She nodded and drove us there.