“I didn’t do this by myself.”

My father closed his eyes briefly.

Linda said guests were arriving, as though guests were another form of permission.

The coordinator approached Tyler and spoke quietly.

He listened without answering at first.

Then he took off his boutonniere and put it beside the floral sample.

“Megan,” he said, “we aren’t doing this until I understand what happened.”

She stared at the little flower on the table.