Walter explained that his wife, Dolores, had seen the arch and the dogwood blossoms and wept, because her own late father had been a welder too. She had asked for the maker’s name and quietly added it to the program. When Landon and Megan objected, Walter realized how far his son had drifted from the family’s roots, and he decided to speak to me himself before the wedding.

Then he asked the question. He wanted me to attend, not as a guest tolerated at the back, but seated in the front beside him, and to say a few words about the arch before the vows. He also offered to give my shop a contract fabricating railings and gates for his construction company. I told him I would think about the contract, but I would come to the wedding for Dad.

On Saturday, I wore my cleanest shirt and let my scarred hands show. Walter walked me to the front row, and Landon went pale. Megan froze at the end of the aisle. When I spoke, I told the guests about Dad’s dogwood and the photographs, and I saw Megan begin to cry. Mom stared at her lap, unable to look at me.

After the ceremony, Megan hugged me and apologized. Landon shook my hand, and this time he did not wash his afterward. I took the contract, and Walter became a friend. Mom came to my shop the next month and ran her fingers over Dad’s old welder. She did not say anything, but she did not look away from my hands again.