Evan turns and stares at his reflection, his hands fluttering over his bow tie. They are still trembling a little.

“Is there such thing as a happy ending?” Evan asks. “Or is that just in books and movies?”

I grasp his hands tightly and give them a little shake. “It’s not corny to have happy endings,” I say, “and I don’t like it when people say they’re not possible. Look at me. It’s a blessing to have happy endings, Evan. They’re really just the result of hard work, being true to yourself and a touch of luck.”

I kiss him on the cheek and adjust his bow tie just-so once more.

“Deep breath,” I say.

“Okay,” he says. “Mom? Next time we really talk, you’ll be a married woman.”

“I know,” I say. “Again.”

There is a soft knock on the door. Evan opens it, and Nate is standing there.

“I’m glad you could make it,” I say. And I mean it.

“I’m glad you invited me,” he says. Nate walks over and hugs me. And then he does the same to Evan.

“Hi, Dad,” he says.

Nate holds his son at arm’s length and just looks at him for the longest time before turning to me and saying, “Our baby.”

The emotion in his voice moves me, and I nod. “He always will be,” I say.

“I have something for you, Evan,” he says. “I know the whole something old, something new adage is for brides, but I wanted to give you this.” He reaches into the pocket of his tux and produces a pocket square. Nate unfolds it to show an embroidered K on it.

“Oh, my gosh,” I say. “Is that...?”

“It is,” Nate says. “Evan, your grandfather gave this to me the day I married your mom. He always called a tux without a pocket square a naked suit. It’s only right I pass this on to you.”

Nate takes the pocket square and holds it in front of Evan. “Do you want a square fold, a throw or a one-point?” Nate asks.

“I have no idea what any of those are,” Evan says with a laugh. “You decide, Dad.”

Nate begins to fold the fabric, almost as if he’s creating origami, and then tucks a perfect white triangle into Evan’s jacket pocket.

“One-point,” Nate says. “I’m more of a classic.” He turns to look at me. “What a surprise, huh?”

I smile.

Nate grips Evan’s shoulders and then turns to look at me. “Scooter seems like a great guy,” he says.

“He is,” I say.

“Of course you’d pick the Fourth of July to get married. It’s always been a special holiday to you, hasn’t it?”

I nod.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, Mom,” Evan says. “If I fall, just step over me.”

“Back atcha,” I say, and he gives me a big wink.