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It had taken William a while to get a handle on the differences between the twins, but he now had no trouble telling them apart. Cecelia always had flecks of paint on her hands and clothes, and she went from good-spirited to annoyed with startling speed. She liked to try out stern looks on people, in a way that reminded William of Julia. Emeline was more placid and slower to react than her twin. She was the quietest of the four sisters, but when the phone rang in the small house, it was usually a request for Emeline to babysit. William once had the thought that his fiancée seemed to stride about the world with a conductor’s wand, while Sylvie brandished a book and Cecelia a paintbrush. Emeline, though, kept her hands free in order to be helpful or to pick up and soothe a neighborhood child. Every time Emeline had seen William since his injury, she’d asked if she could carry something for him or open the door in his path.

William listened while Julia and her mother took turns reciting the schedule and the assigned tasks. When Rose stated that on the morning of the wedding Charlie would pick William up at Northwestern, he said, “That’s not necessary. I can get myself to the church.”

“You’re injured,” Rose said, in a tone that suggested the shattered kneecap was his fault. “And how exactly are you intending to get to the church in your wedding suit, on crutches — the city bus? Charlie will borrow our neighbor’s car, and he’ll drive you. That’s that.”

Emeline grinned. “Mama just wants to make absolutely sure that you’re at the church on time.”

“If that’s true, then she shouldn’t have appointed Daddy to be the driver,” Cecelia said.

Rose shook her head, her gray hair flying. “You girls be quiet. William and Charlie will look after each other, and they’ll both be there on time.”

“Oh!” Emeline said, and patted the table with her open palm. “That makes sense. You’re giving Daddy a responsibility and making Daddy William’s responsibility. You’re an evil genius, Mama.” She held her hand up in front of her mother’s face for a high five, which Rose ignored.

Rose said, “Have you given instructions to the best man?”

“Kent knows where he needs to be, at what time.”

“Will he be drunk?”

William looked at her, surprised. “No?”

“Don’t mind her,” Julia said. “She always assumes every man drinks too much.”

“Only until proven otherwise,” Rose said. “Cecelia, why are you lying on the table during a meeting? Sit up, please.”

“I feel like we’re all set,” Sylvie said. “This wedding is going to run like a finely tuned watch. I have to go to work soon, remember?”

Rose turned toward William and said, “After the wedding, you’ll call me Mom, or Mama. No more Mrs. Padavano.”

She glared at him while she said this, but he could feel another message being delivered with her eyes. She regretted that his parents weren’t coming to the wedding, and she regretted that his parents didn’t love him. She would love him, to fill their absence.

Julia squeezed his good knee under the table.

It took him a moment to find his voice. “Thank you,” he said.

“Nonsense.” Rose had already turned back to her list.

But he thanked her again and covered Julia’s hand with his own.

Later, it occurred to William that Rose had called the meeting to tell him this. She didn’t need to run through the plans. She was the commander-in-chief, and she would direct her soldiers on the day. She didn’t delegate — she ordered. She’d simply wanted to make this declaration to him, in front of witnesses.

Graduation fell one week before the wedding, and since that event included its own celebrations of various sizes, the days began to feel punctuated by William climbing into or out of nice clothes. The night before the wedding, he and Kent went out for burritos and toasted their way through too many beers. On Monday, Kent was moving to Milwaukee for medical school. “It’s less than two hours away,” he said. “I know you’re going to miss me, but we can both visit. We’ll do laundry together, for old times’ sake.”

Sareka, the laundry room boss who had tried to send William away the first time he showed up in the basement, had attended their graduation and cheered wildly when William’s and Kent’s names were announced. She never officially changed her tune; she always professed to distrust William and like Kent, but by his junior year it was clear she was pretending, and William took her affection as the highest compliment. He’d invited her to the wedding, but she’d said no without hesitation. “I prefer not to be around that many white people.”

“You’re going to be a great doctor,” William said.

Kent eyed him. “Are you looking forward to being a professor?”

“Did I tell you that Arash noticed that my right knee had a weakness before the injury? He told me in the hospital.”

“No shit. That’s interesting. I’m not surprised, though. That guy has a talent. He told Butler that his ankles were moving stiffly, and a few days later he broke one of them in a scrimmage. Remember that?”

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