“Oh, Daddy, please don’t make me cry.” Ella’s eyes filled with concern. She had never loved her father more than now. “We just finished with makeup.” She pointed to the bathroom.
Douglas shook his head rapidly, like a wet dog shaking water off his fur. He had to snap out of it, to shed his sadness. Ella was marrying the man she loved. He was supposed to feel happy for her. It wasn’t a loss, he chided himself. It was her gain—what she wanted. He creased his brow, pretending to look stern—this used to make Ella giggle as a girl.
Ella crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.
They laughed together. Douglas felt his chin quiver again and closed his eyes.
Casey gave Ella’s skirts a final brush and rose to her full height. They looked so comfortable in each other’s company. She wanted the father and daughter to have a moment, but she had to march before the bride and couldn’t leave the room. Besides, Ella and Douglas wouldn’t have let her go anyway.
Douglas touched the edge of Ella’s veil, then let go.
“Should. . . uhm?” Casey asked.
“No. It’s not time yet. How are you, girls?”
The girls smiled at the kind doctor, whose heart was obviously grieving. Like a set of twins, they shrugged their bare shoulders and pretty arms helplessly, unable to say much of anything because if they did, they too might burst into tears.
Douglas looked down at the carpet to give himself and the girls a second to collect themselves. He tried to chuckle, remembering to feel joy at just being Ella’s father. He turned to Casey.
“Well, Miss Casey Han, you look like Miss Korea. And how are you feeling today?”
“Excellent. I am excellent, Dr. Shim. And how are you?” she said brightly. “May I get you something? To drink or eat?” She pointed to the platters of sushi and fresh fruit on the other side of the room that could’ve easily fed ten people. On the bridal refreshment table, there were bottles of soda for as many.
He shook his head no. Dr. Shim clearly wanted to say something to his daughter, but Casey didn’t know how to give them their privacy. The makeup lady was still fussing in the bathroom.
“You know, I think I’m hungry,” Casey said, moving toward the refreshment table and away from them.
Douglas moved closer to Ella. “Waaaa. . . ,” he uttered in astonishment.
“Daddy, I told you, don’t you make me cry.”
“Oh-kay,” he said in English. “You look good,” he said, his hand on his hip, as if he were complimenting a nurse who’d just had her hair done at the beauty shop.
“Thank you,” Ella replied quietly.
On the other side of the room, Casey placed a few pieces of sushi on a plate and poured herself a glass of seltzer. Someone had left a British Vogue on the windowsill, and she sat on the Louis XIV–style sofa to flip through it.
“You don’t have to marry him,” Douglas blurted out. He hadn’t meant to say this. The words had left him without his permission.
“Daddy!”
“You can change your mind. Or take more time. You can wait. If he loves you—”
Ella realized he wasn’t kidding. “Why are you saying this?”
Casey turned the page: She stopped herself from glancing up.
“Your father doesn’t want to give you away.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
Douglas whistled the “Wedding March,” messing up the first bar immediately. He felt crazy. “I think I got the last-minute jitters that you were supposed to get. I’m sorry, Ella.”
“Nothing is changing.” Ella looked afraid.
Douglas shook his head, dismissing her assurances. “You love him, right?”
Ella nodded and glanced in Casey’s direction. Her friend was reading a magazine and eating sushi. “Everybody must be waiting,” she said tentatively.
“That’s oh-kay. You can still change your mind,” Douglas persisted, wanting to offer her an out, guessing that she was worried about the guests or what they might say. But it didn’t matter anymore what anyone said.
“That’s not what I meant, Daddy. Why are you saying this now? Why?”
Douglas made a face because he had no clear reason except that Ted was not as nice as his daughter. He’d imagined a kinder man, a less ambitious man. Someone who’d make Ella his priority.
“Oh, my Ella. I wish you so much happiness. What can I do to guarantee that he will make you happy? What wouldn’t I do to guarantee such a thing?” Douglas was not a violent man, but he thought if Ted ever diminished Ella in any way, he’d want to hurt him.