Julia squeezed his good knee under the table.
It took him a moment to find his voice. “Thank you,” he said.
“Nonsense.” Rose had already turned back to her list.
But he thanked her again and covered Julia’s hand with his own.
Later, it occurred to William that Rose had called the meeting to tell him this. She didn’t need to run through the plans. She was the commander-in-chief, and she would direct her soldiers on the day. She didn’t delegate—she ordered. She’d simply wanted to make this declaration to him, in front of witnesses.
* * *
—
Graduation fell one week before the wedding, and since that event included its own celebrations of various sizes, the days began to feel punctuated by William climbing into or out of nice clothes. The night before the wedding, he and Kent went out for burritos and toasted their way through too many beers. On Monday, Kent was moving to Milwaukee for medical school. “It’s less than two hours away,” he said. “I know you’re going to miss me, but we can both visit. We’ll do laundry together, for old times’ sake.”
Sareka, the laundry room boss who had tried to send William away the first time he showed up in the basement, had attended their graduation and cheered wildly when William’s and Kent’s names were announced. She never officially changed her tune; she always professed to distrust William and like Kent, but by his junior year it was clear she was pretending, and William took her affection as the highest compliment. He’d invited her to the wedding, but she’d said no without hesitation. “I prefer not to be around that many white people.”
“You’re going to be a great doctor,” William said.
Kent eyed him. “Are you looking forward to being a professor?”
“Did I tell you that Arash noticed that my right knee had a weakness before the injury? He told me in the hospital.”
“No shit. That’s interesting. I’m not surprised, though. That guy has a talent. He told Butler that his ankles were moving stiffly, and a few days later he broke one of them in a scrimmage. Remember that?”
“If I’d known, I could have strengthened the knee and avoided this break.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Nuh-uh what?”
Kent shook his head. “Stop talking like that. We’re graduated. Rehab that knee and we can get serious about pickup ball, but it’s time for us to be full-grown men now.” He lifted his beer bottle. “A toast to you and the General, and to me and a million hours of studying.”
* * *
—
Charlie was right on time, and William was waiting on the curb. It had taken him a long time to get dressed that morning. He’d taken two freezing showers, because he felt overheated and worried about sweating in his nice suit. Once he had the suit on, he attached and detached his knee brace countless times, trying to make sure his pants were pulled smooth around the metal brace and not bunched up.
William slid his crutches into the back seat of the blue sedan Charlie had borrowed and lowered himself into the front seat, after sliding it back for maximal legroom.
“Big day.” Charlie was wearing a suit; he looked small and uncomfortable behind the wheel. “I only wear this thing for funerals, usually,” he said, as he pulled out into traffic.
William looked at the buildings and houses outside the window. He felt like he was playing a scene in a movie: young man with his almost father-in-law on brink of wedding. He wanted to act his part as well as possible.
“You’re going to be good to Julia.” Charlie stated this like it was a fact.
“Yes, sir. I will be.”
Charlie took a corner smoothly, then switched lanes after checking his mirrors. A fat truck appeared in front of their car, and he slowed to allow enough distance between the vehicles. He was a good driver, which surprised William. Julia’s father always presented as the distracted, mildly incompetent man his daughters and wife believed him to be. It was interesting to see him be competent, and William wondered, for the first time, how much of Charlie’s usual behavior was an act.
“Did you know that Rose and I eloped? We didn’t have a wedding. I think that accounts for her feverishness about this one. It’s for her and for Julia.”
William shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”
“She was pregnant with Julia, and our mothers didn’t like each other. Some beef from the old country. We drove to Las Vegas.”
William smiled at the idea of Rose and Charlie on the Las Vegas Strip. Did Julia know that she’d been conceived before her parents’ marriage?
As if he’d heard his thought, Charlie said, “Julia knows. It’s family lore; we never hid the truth. Rose hated Las Vegas, though—she said she was disappointed in all the people that go there every year. She’s never gotten out of the funk Las Vegas put her in.”
This was supposed to be a joke, but Charlie’s overall mood was too somber for it to land. William felt bad for him. Charlie was about to give away his eldest daughter, and he was completely sober, which was a rare occurrence. Alcohol made Charlie lighter.
“I’ve never been good at providing Rose with what she wanted, other than the girls,” he said. “Try to give Julia what she wants, whenever you can. Julia’s strong, willful, like her mother—she’ll give your life a backbone. Rose holds me up, in a lot of ways, and I’m a lucky man. You’re a lucky man too.”
William felt the truth of this: He was lucky. Julia had already given him so much. All she seemed to want from him was his love and his enthusiasm for her plans. He could keep providing both of those things, easily, and he hoped that would be enough. From the outside, Charlie and Rose’s marriage seemed complicated, like a clock with inner workings that spun but didn’t quite connect.
Charlie leaned forward and peered through the wide windshield. “There’s the church. Look for a parking spot I can swing into.”
For the next six hours, with the exception of the time at the altar, William felt like he was always in the wrong spot. Julia, Rose, or Charlie kept calling his name. Asking him to speak to a distant cousin, hug the girls’ first-grade teacher, talk basketball with a Bulls fan or talk Boston with an uncle who had been there once. His knee ached no matter what position he was in. Julia would get upset that he wasn’t sitting and then pull him across the lawn to shake hands with the man who had done the flowers. Kent, who had the magical ability to make himself comfortable in any situation, hand-shook his way across the grass as if he were running for mayor. William noticed that he was always trailed by a flock of pretty young women. Sylvie, Emeline, and Cecelia revolved around William and Julia like pink constellations. “So much smiling,” Sylvie said to him once, in passing. Toward dusk, Cecelia handed William her high-heeled shoes and then walked away across the lawn. Charlie, hair standing up straight, a drink in his hand, clapped William on the back whenever they came near each other.
All of that was blurred, though, by Julia’s luminescence. Her white dress was covered with tiny white beads that swished when she walked. Her hourglass figure was hugged by the fabric; her hair was pinned up on top of her head; her eyes were bright. She looked like she had been plugged in to a power source the rest of them didn’t have access to. William was grateful all over again every time she took his arm or kissed his cheek. “My wife,” he whispered.