Chapter 8 begins as the days leading up to the wedding seem to pass in a blur. Maggie and the Gardners were handling most of the wedding preparations, but I still found myself with plenty of tasks to manage. One afternoon, I rummaged through the attic, hoping to find something useful. It was there I stumbled upon my old tuxedo, the same one I had worn on my wedding day twenty-eight years ago. Although it no longer fit, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia as I sifted through the pockets. In one of them, I found a cocktail napkin stained with my late wife Colleen’s lipstick, a small memento that I decided to keep for good luck. Holding that napkin in my hand, I couldn’t help but reflect on the passage of time, and the memories that still lingered.

As the wedding approached, I made the decision to rent a light-gray summer tuxedo from Men’s Wearhouse, complete with a matching vest and bow tie. The salesman who assisted me was a young man with pink hair and piercings, eager to make the sale. He successfully convinced me to purchase a nine-piece accessory package, which included shoes and cufflinks. I found myself smiling at the enthusiasm he brought to the experience, a stark contrast to my own more reserved nature. While I wasn’t initially planning to buy accessories, his excitement was contagious, and by the end of the transaction, I felt oddly positive about the purchase. The whole process left me with a sense of goodwill, especially as I thought about Maggie’s upcoming wedding and the joy it would bring to our family. I felt a deep sense of pride as I prepared for this special day, even though it was a whirlwind of last-minute arrangements.

One of my main tasks was to prepare a toast for the wedding reception, which was easier said than done. Bridal websites recommend that wedding toasts should be around ninety seconds long, encouraging speakers to speak from the heart. However, as I sat down to write, I quickly realized I had an overwhelming number of thoughts and emotions to convey. What was supposed to be a brief, heartfelt message turned into eighteen pages of notes, far more than what was necessary for the allotted time. Each writing session only seemed to increase the length of my notes as I struggled to condense my feelings into a short, meaningful speech. The pressure of having to sum up a lifetime of love and pride in just a few moments weighed heavily on me, and I found myself repeatedly editing, knowing that the time was fast approaching. The task became more daunting as the wedding day neared, yet I couldn’t help but feel an underlying sense of excitement about standing up and speaking from the heart.

In addition to preparing the toast, I wanted to spend some time with Aidan, my future son-in-law, and strengthen our relationship. I suggested we attend a Red Sox game together, thinking it would be a great bonding experience. However, Maggie informed me that Aidan wasn’t particularly fond of sports, which caught me off guard, as I had assumed we would share this interest. I then suggested we visit the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, where Aidan could show me his favorite exhibits, but despite both of us having shared interests, we struggled to find a date that worked for us. Each time we tried to plan, Aidan made excuses, and after several attempts, I began to sense that he wasn’t as eager to spend time together as I had hoped. Rather than feeling rejected, I chose not to take it personally, understanding that he likely already had a strong relationship with his own father, and perhaps didn’t see the need to forge another connection.

Maggie, too, seemed distant during this time, which was disappointing to me. Despite our recent efforts to reconnect, I found that her busy schedule, filled with wedding planning and work, left little room for meaningful conversations. Our discussions were often short, and I could sense her preoccupation with other responsibilities. However, Maggie reassured me that once we arrived at Osprey Cove for the wedding, we would have more time for each other. She even promised we could relive our past camping trips, like canoeing together, something I looked forward to. As July passed by, I found myself eagerly anticipating the reunion, while vowing to give Maggie the space she needed until the big day arrived. The anticipation for the wedding continued to grow, but so did the desire for deeper connections that seemed to be slipping away as the stress of the event loomed.