“She said we should just relax until the rehearsal.”

At four o’clock we gathered in the hotel courtyard.

Green hedges formed a perfect square around the stone patio.

White folding chairs sat in straight rows facing the dark harbor water.

Thomas Gable stood at the back of the chairs holding a silver tray of cold bottled water.

He adjusted his suit lapels again.

“We remain entirely at your disposal for the procession sequence,” Thomas said.

“We’re ready to begin,” I said.