“You wrote something too, Mr. James?”

He unfolded it with a smile, read the first line aloud, then stopped.

“Today, I hand my most precious son over to May……”

He looked up at May, his tone half teasing.

“That's so old-fashioned.”

“Who says things like that at weddings anymore?”

A few of the staff around him laughed too.

My father's face went red in an instant.

He reached out to take the paper back.

“My speech isn't very good.”

“And it's not well written.”

“I won't say it, then.”

But Colin acted as if he hadn't noticed how embarrassed my father was, and flipped through it again.

He got to the phonetic notes my father had penciled in and suddenly laughed out loud.

“You were even scared of mispronouncing it, Mr. James?”

“Really, no need to be so nervous. Nobody actually wants to hear this stuff.”

My father's face burned a deeper red.

May finally spoke.

But not to save my father.

Instead she said:

“Colin has a point.”

“This part really doesn't fit the style of today's wedding.”

“Mr. James, let's just cancel the speech.”

My father gripped the paper, his lips moving.

In the end he only said:

“All right. Whatever you two decide.”

I watched him fold the speech back up and tuck it into the already-creased pocket of his suit.

His movements were slow.

Like he was putting away the last bit of his dignity along with it.

That speech, he'd spent a full two weeks on it.

Once, when I came home, I saw him sitting in the living room, recording himself on his phone.

Every time he stumbled over a line, he deleted it and started over.

He said:

“Homer, your dad's not an educated man.”

“But you're getting married. I have to do it right.”

“I can't have people thinking your family has no one standing behind you.”

Then he laughed at himself.

“No, wait, you're the son.”

“Dad has to say it right, so no one thinks your family has no one standing behind you.”

Back then I just laughed at how nervous he was.

I said:

“Dad, just standing up there is enough.”

But today.

He didn't even get the chance to stand up there.

Colin handed the run sheet back to the emcee.

“I'll go up and speak in a bit.”

“I know Ms. Henson well, and I know how the program runs.”

He looked over at my parents with a smile.

“Since it's not convenient for you to speak, me doing it for you is just the same.”

My mother lowered her head.

My father didn't argue either.

They were probably used to it by now.

As long as it was for my sake, they could swallow anything.

Just then the emcee came over with a reminder.

“Mr. Delgado, get ready.”

“Your toast is up next.”

Colin adjusted his tie and passed by me.

He paused, dropping his voice low.

“Homer, don't let your parents feel bad.”

“It's not convenient for them to go up, so I'll say a few words of blessing for them. Consider it me smoothing things over for you.”

As he finished, a flicker of smugness crossed his eyes.

I didn't look at him.

I just glanced down at my phone.

The wedding planner had sent a message:

“Everything's ready.”

“Are you sure you want to play it now?”

I looked up.

At the end of the aisle, Colin had already taken the microphone.

May stood below the stage, watching him with an indulgence in her eyes that stung to see.

And my parents sat in the darkest corner.

One clutching the canceled speech.

One clutching that ill-fitting black skirt suit.

Slowly I typed one word.

“Play it.”

The next second, what appeared on the big screen made every guest below gasp all at once.