Then, right there, he calmly removed his jacket, his shirt, and his trousers.
Underneath, he wore a bright pink formal dress. It clearly was the largest one on the rack, the seams straining across his shoulders. The hem was uneven because he hadn’t bothered to check the size; the color was loud against the soft ivory of the wedding decor.
Gasps rippled through the church.
He calmly removed his jacket.
“WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!” Vanessa shouted.
Grandpa Sam turned to face the guests, his voice steady and loud enough for every seat to hear.
“Vanessa explained that people from the groom’s side have to dress differently. Since my granddaughter wasn’t allowed to wear a dress because she’s from my son’s side, I thought I’d support her by wearing one myself.”
Whispers spread. Then, softly, laughter.
“I thought I’d support her.”
My former FIL walked down the aisle in that ridiculous, beautiful pink dress and took Hazel’s small hand in his.
