It was a Friday night rehearsal. The wedding coordinator lined up the bridal party:
         “Slick, you and Amanda follow Josh and Jean.”
          Slick? I always wanted a name like that. I walked over. “You got a twin brother named Slide?” I asked. He laughed.
          A tall, affable guy, he looked me in the eye. “You don’t remember me, Fr. Luke? I’m Josh Holthaus. I served Mass for you when I was a kid.”
         All I could say was, “Man, time flies!”
         The next evening, at the reception, I noticed Josh and his father standing at the door of the hall. Years had passed since I had spoken with Dale, Josh’s dad. Framed in the doorway, they had the same build and held their heads at the same angle. It was like looking at a time-lapsed photo.
         I made my way to the door and the three of us stepped outside. Dale told me he that he bought the mechanic shop where he had worked for most his life. Josh was now his business partner.
         “Never pushed him,” Dale said, looking at his son. “He worked the oil fields for a few years, now he puts up with his old man.” Josh chuckled. “I keep telling Dad we need to expand. Business is booming.”
         “It’s going good,” Dale nodded. “Hope to retire in a few years.”
         We continued the small talk and it was clear that Dale and his son held each other in high regard. Josh excused himself and stepped back inside the hall.
“Never thought life would turn out this good,” Dale said.
         Maybe it was the music in the background, maybe it was the glass of beer in my hand, or maybe I’m just getting sentimental in my old age, but I said, “Dale, you done good!”
         “Not really.” He looked away and I followed his gaze. Inside the hall, Josh was standing next to his wife, an infant in his arms.
         “Well, maybe,” Dale said. “Maybe so.”            
          I nodded and raised my glass. And so did he.