Thank you to Lori of Sioux City for doing Sherri’s hair and makeup, and for making the drive. Thank you to the tanning salon and the nail studio in Sheldon for taking such good care of Sherri before the big day.
Thank you to the boutique in Le Mars for Sherri’s shoes and wrap. Thank you to the car service out of Sioux City for driving Sherri to and from the hall. Thank you to the florist for Sherri’s bouquet, her corsage, and the flowers in her room.
Thank you to Main Street Bakery for the lemon cake at Sherri’s brunch. Thank you to Mike for the beautiful portraits of Sherri at the hotel. And thank you to Bev and her crew for feeding the forty guests Sherri added the Thursday before.
All of it has been paid or is in the mail. We are grateful to each of you. Sam and Abby Pedersen.
I read it out loud to Abby when it was done. When I got to the end, she was quiet, and then she said, “It’s all nice. Every word of it is nice.”
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“Is that a problem?”
“No,” she said. “That’s what makes it so bad.”
The counter at the Courier
The county paper comes out on Wednesdays. The office is a storefront on Main Street with a bell over the door and a front counter piled with back issues.
The woman at the counter was named Deb. She has worked there since before I was born.
She took my folio sheet, put on her reading glasses, and counted the words with the end of her pencil, moving her lips a little.
About halfway down, she stopped counting. She read the rest of it without the pencil. Then she took her glasses off and looked at me over the counter for a while.
“This is all paid?” she asked.
“Every one of them,” I said. “Or it will be by Friday. I’ve got the checks written.”
“And you want it to run like this. Exactly like this.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Deb put her glasses back on. She did not say anything else about it.
She told me it came to forty-six dollars for the card of thanks section, and I paid her with two twenties, a five, and four quarters out of the pickle jar, which made her smile a little for the first time.
“I knew your mother,” she said, as she gave me the receipt. “She used to bring us the church bulletin every Friday. She’d have been proud of the way you look after your wife.”
I did not know what to say to that, so I thanked her. I went out and sat in the pickup on Main Street for a few minutes before I could drive.