it's the father of the bride

"Hey." The man was a tall and handsome Black man in his fifties, with a salt-and-pepper beard and smoothly shaved head. He wore glasses, a tailored suit, and had a very formal and classy air about him. His height and stature exuded confidence and sophistication.

"Hi," Abbie said politely. She began to turn back to head into the bathroom.

"Excuse me," the man said. "Sorry to disturb you, but ..."

"It's fine," said Abbie, pausing in her step. The man's cologne was a subtle blend of wood and leather, the scent of which was so arresting that it stopped Abbie in her tracks.

He looked at her quizzically. "Do I know you?"

Abbie enjoyed the man's deep and rich voice, which blended a slight rasp with an uncompromised gravitas. She imagined he could be a college professor or a news anchor, or maybe both. "My name's Abbie. Abbie Andrews. I was just here for a party today."

"Staci Reynolds's wedding party?"

"Yes! Were you here for that too?"

The man smiled, but in a way that was a little distant and possibly sad. "I was. I mean, I am." He extended a hand toward Abbie. "I'm Adam Reynolds. Staci's father."

"Oh wow, it's nice to meet you." Abbie shook hands with him. He lingered a bit on the handshake, holding Abbie's hand in his for long enough to clearly be intentionally longer, necessarily, but not so long for it to seem awkward or unpleasant.

"I don't know her college friends as well as I probably ought to. Forgive me for not recognizing you."

"No, I'm not a friend from college. I actually only met her today. I'm here with one of her cousins, Jake Lewis."

Adam thought about the name. "Can't say I know him. But I know the cousins about as well as I know the college friends -- which is not well at all."

Abbie wanted to try to explain how Jake was related, but realized that she didn't remember it clearly herself, and the truth was that it probably didn't matter.

"It was a lovely party today," Abbie said, shifting the conversation topic. Although, as she said it, she realized that she had spent most of the party in the woods, and hoped that Adam Reynolds wasn't going to make too detailed a reference to something she wasn't there for.

Adam nodded. "It sure was. And fortunately for all of them, I had little to do with any of it. Paid for some, but that's the whole 'father-of-the-bride' burden, you know."

"Phil's sister did a beautiful job," said Abbie, hoping that she remembered accurately that it was Phil's sister who was the party planner.

"She is quite beautiful," said Adam absent-mindedly. He paused, lost in his own thought for a moment, and then caught himself. "I -- I mean, the party. The party was quite beautiful." He shook his head. "Of course, she is beautiful too. I -- well, now I feel like a fool."

Abbie giggled, and put her hand on Adam's arm to comfort him. "Oh stop. You know what, I thought she was beautiful today when I saw her as well. And she threw a beautiful party."

Adam chuckled. "You're right. And very sweet, and forgiving."

"Nothing to forgive," Abbie said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Adam." She added his name as an afterthought, though immediately wondered if she was being too forward.