Flames were leaping. Smoke was now rising around us. Then I heard Mark’s deep voice bellowing behind me—he couldn’t stop laughing. Others in the pews began to chuckle. I turned around to see the face of my mom: sheer horror. Amid the smoke and Mark’s infectious laughter, Father Frank frantically smothered the flames. Elliott and I just looked at each other, smiling; he grinned through the pain of singed fingers. Elin, Annie, and Mauricio played on, flawlessly, in perfect harmony, as if nothing were happening. We wanted an unconventional wedding, and we got one.
