"What?"
"I think the most important call was the one you never made. The knock on the door you didn't do. Because if you'd done the normal thing, none of this would have happened β not the friendship, not the street, not any of it." Daniel raised his mug. "So here's to bad decisions that turn out right."
Frank raised his mug. "To cut lines."
"To cut lines."
They drank. The street woke up around them. And Daniel Mercer β cybersecurity analyst, father, neighbor, watcher of Sycamore Lane β sat on his porch on an ordinary Tuesday morning, with his best friend beside him and his whole life ahead of him, and he was, finally and completely, home.
25
Emma's wedding was in May, in the garden behind Daniel's house β the same garden where, four years earlier, a furious man had stared at severed cables and called 911 on his neighbor.
The transformation was total. White chairs in neat rows. Flowers everywhere β Emma's fiancΓ©, Ben, was a teacher, but his mother was a florist, and she'd gone completely overboard. A string quartet. A cake with three tiers. And at the end of the aisle, an arch covered in roses, where Emma would marry the boy who'd been "just a friend."
Daniel stood in his bedroom, adjusting his tie for the fifth time, trying not to cry. He'd already cried twice β once when Emma came downstairs in her dress ("Dad, don't, you'll make me cry and then my mascara β"), and once when Ben's mother hugged him and said, "Thank you for raising her."
There was a knock. Frank stood in the doorway, in his suit β not the funeral suit, a new one, dark blue β with the blue tie Emma had picked out years ago for the Oregon wedding.
"You ready?" Frank asked.
"No," Daniel said honestly. "Are you?"
"Absolutely not." Frank came in and sat on the bed. "You know, when Margaret and I got married, we did it at the courthouse. Cost eleven dollars. My mother cried because there was no cake."
"Emma wanted the garden," Daniel said. "She said this is where our family started. The real one."
Frank nodded slowly. "She's right." He stood. "Come on. We've got a daughter to give away."
The ceremony was perfect in the way that real things are perfect β which is to say, slightly chaotic. The quartet started too early. The flower girl β David's daughter, Frank's granddaughter, four years old and deeply committed to her role β threw petals with intense focus, then sat down in the middle of the aisle to examine a ladybug. Everyone laughed. Emma laughed, radiant, walking down the aisle on the arms of two men: her father on her right, and Frank Delaney on her left.
Daniel had worried about this β worried it would feel strange, or that people would whisper. But when Emma had asked, months ago β "Dad, would it be okay if Mr. Delaney walked with us? He's family too" β Daniel hadn't hesitated.
"He's not 'too,' kiddo," Daniel had said. "He's family. Full stop."
Now, walking down the aisle, Emma squeezed both their arms, and Daniel caught Frank's eye over her veil, and Frank β tough old Frank, who'd faced down criminals and heart attacks β had tears running down his face.
The officiant asked, "Who gives this woman to be married?"
"We do," Daniel and Frank said together.
They took their seats in the front row. Frank sat next to David, who'd flown in with his family. Mrs. Hartley was there β eighty now, sharp as ever β with her granddaughter and the baby named Eleanor. Captain Alvarez came with her husband, bearing tomatoes even though it was May ("greenhouse," she said defensively). The Hendersons brought their dog, who was not invited but came anyway and was immediately adopted by the flower girl.
The vows were beautiful. Ben cried. Emma cried. Daniel cried. Frank pretended not to cry and failed completely.
At the reception β tents on the lawn, lights strung between the oak tree and the house β Daniel gave the father-of-the-bride speech. He talked about Emma as a little girl, about her mother, about the years they'd had just the two of them. And then he said:
"I want to thank someone. Four years ago, my neighbor cut my internet lines." Laughter. "It's a long story. But that morning started the strangest, hardest, best of my life. Frank Delaney saved my livelihood, saved my street, and then β when I wasn't looking β became my family. Emma asked him to walk her down the aisle today, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more." Daniel raised his glass. "To Frank. To cut lines."
"TO CUT LINES!" the whole garden roared, and Frank stood, red-faced, and bowed.
Then Frank surprised everyone by asking for the microphone.