It was the evening before the wedding and well past the time for the rehearsal to begin. The groom stood nervously in the narthex, introducing the bride's family to his. Everyone was there but the bride.
"Where is Joanne?" I asked.
"She's in the bathroom," offered the maid of honor. "Maybe you should go in and talk to her."
I went in to find Joanne weeping. "Is something wrong?" I asked innocently.
"It's the trellis," she sobbed.
The maid of honor had followed me in, and she spoke up: "Joanne's mom has rented a trellis for Joanne and Bob to stand under, and Joanne doesn't want it."
I walked back to the narthex and found Joanne's mother. "Joanne is upset about the trellis," I said.
Joanne's grandmother jumped into the conversation to announce that she had been married under a trellis, and it would mean a lot to her if Joanne were also married under a trellis.
Back to Joanne I went. "It seems to be important to your grandmother to have the trellis. But if you really don't want it, ...1