Drives Like a Dream by Porter Shreve Page A

will disapprove of them." Ivan twisted his cuff links. "Isn't that a little juvenile?"
    "Listen—" Jessica began. She wasn't about to suffer collateral damage from Ivan's fury at their father.
    Davy stepped in. "Come on, people." He cupped the back of his brother's neck with his hand, a playful half nelson. "It's time to go in anyway."
    As they walked inside another group of guests appeared. Davy and Jessica made nice for the new arrivals, and Ivan offered to help them to their seats. When he left Davy whispered, "You must be looking for some real fireworks today. Why are you stirring him up?"
    "He's stirring himself up. I was just talking about this guy who I'm not even dating, and for no good reason he got his knickers in a twist."
    "Still, your timing could be better. You're not worried about the best man's toast?"
    "What about it?"
    "Ivan's not good when he gets all riled up. You know that, Jess."
    A few latecomers gathered in the entryway. Ivan came back up the aisle. "Five minutes until the service. Whatever's available, folks," he said to the guests filing in. "And you guys—" He turned to his siblings. "We're about to get started. You should find a seat." He disappeared to look for the minister.
    Davy took Jessica's hand as they walked toward the front of the sanctuary. Scanning the room, she noticed that her father's side was badly outnumbered. Apparently, he kept in no better touch with his friends than he did with his children.
    Soon after they were seated, the organist began the processional. Jessica and Davy watched from the front row as M.J. walked in alone, followed by Ellen's bridesmaids—a college friend and a coworker from the phone company. They were not in lavender, as Cy had promised, but in dresses a shade of green similar to Jessica's suit. She wondered whether to feel flattered or annoyed.
    Ivan and Gisele, the maid of honor who had flown in from Phoenix for the occasion, were next down the aisle. Ivan took his place at the front of the church, and Gisele joined the bridesmaids.
    As they waited for the bride and groom to appear, Jessica watched Ivan. At the rehearsal dinner, he had commented on Gisele's good looks—blond, willowy, small-featured, very much his type—and Davy had teased him for showing an interest in Ellen's best friend. Ivan grew defensive, saying it would be too trashy-talk-show to go after a friend of his father's wife. Now, however, Jessica caught him smiling at Gisele, who seemed to reciprocate, glancing down shyly at her bouquet, then up again. Maybe, Jessica hoped, this would be just the distraction her brother needed to calm down and behave for the rest of the afternoon.
    Cy appeared suddenly at the sanctuary door, looking a bit florid and pinched in his tuxedo. It occurred to Jessica now that this wedding marked a pivotal moment in their family history. After this, they would go in one of two directions: together, or each alone.
    Unlike the rest of her family, Jessica was almost happy to see her father gaining a new life apart from them. She knew that feeling of wanting her own life, knew also the frustration of not yet having a defining purpose. Her mother had always had a purpose—her work, her family. In Lydia's perfect world, the Modines would be one contiguous group, like a prairie township or an island monarchy. Not that Jessica opposed the idea of a big noisy family, but when she thought about having children she pictured an open door through which they could come and go as they pleased—without the emotional whipcord attached. She refused to engage her mother on this subject, because Lydia's way invariably won. How could she not win, when every conversation took place in her domain, always with the door closed? Her mother liked to talk about her front-porch policy, but in fact she wasn't nearly as open as she let on. Her place, her way prevailed.
    Just once, Jessica wanted to hear her mother say: "Pick a weekend. I'd love to come out and see