What's for Breakfast?

Twenty-Seven: His Game

I know what my mother means. To not give up just because she didn't end up with my father.  I nod, warmth dancing within me. "Thanks, Mom."

I'm not giving up. I only need time to think and process everything that's happened, and to weigh my options moving forward.

I leave the room with my Mom and proceed to the beach for the ceremony.

The white sand glistens under the aureate sun, and the blue sea is calm, small waves breaking benevolently on the shore. Some of the guests who arrived earlier in the morning are already seated and chatting with each other, while the entourage clusters near the bridal arch decorated with fresh calla lilies. My Mom greets Candice's parents as I make my way to Patrick and my father, who are next to the backdrop of the flowery altar. 

Patrick sees me first. He's wearing a white coat and a yellow tie, his hair brushed up, and his smile is scintillating. He looks so content that happiness grows inside of me. Perhaps I can set aside my annoyance for today, only because he's still my brother, and I love him regardless. I'll hold him accountable some other time.

"Sam!" he calls.

"Hey, Pat, Dad." I give Patrick a peck on the cheek.

My father is in a white tuxedo, and I perceive the gray hair and the fine lines under his eyes. Patrick still resembles him greatly, so it's safe to say that his aging hasn't taken away his handsome features. My father beams when he sees me, and I embrace him.

"There's my girl," he utters, kissing my temple.

"It's nice to see you, Dad," I say. "Where's Sherry?"

"She's in the washroom," he answers. "I missed you, kid."

I bite my lip. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you at home. It's been a busy year at the firm."

Dad squeezes my shoulder. "It's alright, Sam. I understand. You make me proud. Both of you."

Somehow, the striking similarity of my parents gives me a good feeling, even though it wasn't enough to make them last. I'm glad to know they're still good friends. Maybe that's how it goes for people who were truly once in love--they never unlove. They only begin to love each other differently.

The three of us return to the main venue, where around fifty guests have filled the seats. Bamboo poles stand tall along the aisle, adorned with white fabric and chrysanthemums. The priest is already in the middle of the platform, scanning a missalette.

I see Marcus. He waves his hand at me, and I approach him. He looks handsome in his white suit, his eyes sharp like Derek's, but he has sweeping and thicker eyelashes. His forehead is also broader.

He gives me a quick hug. "How have you been, Sam?"

"I'm great! It's so great to see you," I say.

"Yeah. It's been so long. You look lovely."

"You look good yourself. Did you come alone?"

"Oh no, Dad and Donna are here," he responds, then he looks over my shoulder.

Derek's father and stepmom are behind me. I smooth down my skirt, my arms getting goosebumps, as they draw nearer. I'm appalled they're invited, though I assume Patrick did it out of mere politeness. He probably hoped they wouldn't come. But here we are. 

"Hello, Uncle James, Donna," I utter, extending a hand which he takes. His grip is firm. I also shake hands with Donna who smiles. One look and I can tell she can pass as Derek's older sister.

Derek's father looks exactly like him. Even his obsidian hair is as dense as Derek's, their square jaws perfectly sculpted like the work of God.

"Hi, Sam," he utters.