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of her long blond hair gave away her concern.

“All I want,” she said, articulating each word carefully, “is for my father to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. I know it’s old-fashioned: the idea of a man giving away his daughter. But it’s what I’ve always wanted. And maybe, it’ll bring us back together.” She exchanged a glance with her fiancé. “My dad and I haven’t really talked in a few years.”

In her intake interview, Vanessa shared with Liv and Savannah that she’d been dreaming about her wedding day since she was six. The vision of herself in a dramatic ball gown of tiered white tulle had been the very first indicator that the male body she’d been born into had been a “clerical error.” Vanessa had come out as trans in college and transitioned to female five years ago. Savannah had been extremely nervous to meet the couple. She’d never met a transgender person before and was terrified she’d make a slipup or break some unspoken rule. But then Vanessa and Lenny started sharing their heartfelt plans for a wedding that honored their community as well as their love for each other. They were excited and loving and clueless about how to pull it all off. Just like every other couple. All Savannah’s worries flew out the window. She admired Vanessa’s determination. The idea of standing up to her own father over anything felt foreign, even frightening.

“I think that’s lovely,” Savannah said. “I’d want my dad to walk me down the aisle, too.”

Liv asked the bride-to-be, “Have you told your father that?”

Vanessa shook her head.

Liv gave her an encouraging smile. “We can certainly help facilitate that conversation when he arrives.”

They moved onto music selection for the cocktail hour—jazz classics that invited (“Let’s Fall in Love”), flirted (“I’ve Got a Crush on You”), and declared (“Yes Sir, That’s My Baby”). But the pending arrival of General Fitzpatrick underscored everything with panicked violins. When the doorbell rang, Savannah felt it like the crash of a cymbal.

General Tucker Fitzpatrick was the kind of man who sucked all the air out of the room and all other buildings in a one-mile radius. And it had nothing to do with size. He was only five foot six, with the compact build of a bulldog and dark hair combed neat. His handshake was crushing. As he sat on the pale pink sofa, Liv attempted light banter. They parried awkwardly for a few minutes about traffic and parking before Liv steered the conversation to logistics.

“Vanessa and Lenny would love to include you in the ceremony.”

“Well, I’ll be there.” General Fitzpatrick spoke to Liv. “Just like I said I’d show up here.”

Liv looked at Vanessa.

Vanessa nodded. Sweat beaded her upper lip. “Dad.”

He tipped his head, indicating he was listening, without actually meeting her gaze.

“Dad, I know you’ve already expressed you don’t want to do the father-daughter dance with me—”

“No one wants to see me dance,” the general said to Liv. “A brick wall has more rhythm.”

“I know, Dad, and I told you that’s okay,” Vanessa said in a way that indicated it really was not. “But it would mean a lot to me, and to Lenny, if you at least walked me down the aisle.”

The general rubbed the space between his eyebrows. “I don’t think you want an ugly old badger like me up there.”

“Actually, I do,” Vanessa said.

He let out a tense breath. “My knee’s been playing up.”

“It’s twenty feet!”

The general snapped, “Look, I’m not going along with this dog and pony show, okay?”

Vanessa froze.

Lenny swore under his breath.

Savannah couldn’t stop herself gasping. She hadn’t imagined he’d actually say no. It was Vanessa’s wedding day. That happens once.

Liv took a deep breath and calmly dove in. “Well, let’s think this through. It is, of course, tradition for the father of the bride to walk his daughter down the aisle. And the terrific thing about traditions is they’re human, like us. They change as we change.”

The man’s face remained eerily unmoved.

“General Fitzpatrick.” Savannah took the reins. “It really is such an honor to be able to give your daughter away. Especially to a wonderful groom like Lenny. And as father of the bride, you—”

The general interrupted. “Can we all stop saying that?”

“Saying what?” asked Savannah. From the corner of her eye, she saw Liv flinch.

“Father of the bride. I’m sorry, but whatever it is you’ve become, Adam: it’s not a bride.”

It landed like a bomb. Hard heat shot into Savannah’s body, rippling every muscle.

In a low voice, Vanessa said, “Please do not use that name, Dad.”

“It’s your name. The name I gave you. The name I gave my son.” The general’s voice was close to breaking. “First I lose your mother. Then you go and do… this.”

Lenny raked both hands hard through his hair. “I’m so sick of this.”

Liv raised a hand. “Lenny, let’s try and stay—”

“Do you realize how strong this woman is? How much she’s been through?” Lenny was on his feet. “And now all she wants is for you to walk her down the aisle. One day. One goddamn day.”

The general’s face was blotchy with anger. He rose from the pale pink sofa and moved toward the door. “I’m not listening to this crap.”

“Dad, please.” Vanessa got to her feet. “I’m only doing this once. I never ask you for anything. I know things between us are tough, but weddings bring people together. I think we’ll both regret it if you’re not an important part of my day.”

“I don’t know who you are anymore.” The general met Vanessa’s eyes for the first time. “I don’t know what any of this is. How can I walk someone I don’t even know down the aisle?” He pressed one shaking hand to his face. For a moment, it seemed he might cry. Then the general drew in a thick breath and squared his shoulders. “I am sorry, Adam. But I just can’t.” He nodded curtly at Liv and left the room.

“I’m sorry.” Lenny was

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