CHAPTER 22
We were married the next afternoon, after the church emptied from Father Olson’s funeral service. My parents flew in, joyful; Boyd and Armstrong met them at the airport. A small group from St. Luke’s came, including a fussy Lucille Boatwright. I called Zelda and said I needed her to play the organ, would she? She said that of course she would, I didn’t want that trash charismatic music, did I? No, just whatever she wanted; but I apologetically added that there was one condition to her playing. She had to let me invite her daughter-in-law, Sarah Preston Black, and her grandson, Ian Preston. “Just use me as an excuse,” I told her. “I can’t get married, and be happy, knowing you still have all that old pain.”
Zelda gasped and then started to cry. “I guess I’ve been wanting
