Over near the doorway, we spot Sandra, just returned from therestrooms. She looks gorgeous. She couldn’t be any happierif this were her own wedding.
Now, I was in a situation. I could gutthat fish and get my ring back, butdoing so I would be killing thesmartest catfish in the Ashton River,
soon to be mother of a hundred others.
Will can’t take any more. Josephine tries to hold him back,
but he gets up and leaves. Edward doesn’t even notice.
Did I want to deprive my soon-to-beborn
son the chance to catch a fish
like this of his own? This lady fishand I, well, we had the same destiny.
As he leaves, Will mutters in perfect unison with his father-
EDWARD AND WILL:
We were part of the same equation.
Will reaches the door, where his mother intercepts him.
Honey, it’s still your night.
Will can’t articulate his anger. He just leaves.
Now, you may well ask, since this ladyfish wasn’t the ghost of a thief, whydid it strike so quick on gold whennothing else would attract it?
(closer; he holds up his ring)
That was the lesson I learned that day,
the day my son was born.
He focuses his words on Sandra. This story is -- and hasalways been -- about her more than anyone.
Sometimes, the only way to catch anuncatchable woman is to offer her a
A LAUGH from the crowd.
Edward motions for Sandra to get up here with him. As she
crosses, we can see that thirty years of marriage has notlessened their affection for each other.
As they kiss, Edward tweaks her chin a special little way.
The crowd APPLAUDS.
Edward toasts the happy couple. Josephine covers well forher absent husband, a smile as warm as summer.