THEN SUDDENLY, it seemed, we heard the bandleader’s voice over a microphone: “Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time as man and wife, here are Gaby and Martin Summerhill.” A one-two-three beat exploded, and a song we both loved, “The Way You Look Tonight,” filled the room. And we danced.

I loved hearing the applause, and the laughter too. When Marty twirled me, there was an eruption of ohhhs. When he dipped me back, there was another exclamation of wonder. People pointed at my sneakers, always good for a laugh. A little more than halfway through our song, Marty leaned in close. “Seth and Andie,” he said.

What a sweet, thoughtful man I had married. We slowed down our dancing, like a couple on top of an unwinding music box. Marty held up his hands to stop the applause.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time as man and wife, Andie and Seth Summerhill.”

Then the most beautiful newlyweds in the room walked onto the dance floor. They bumped each other like athletes after a victory. Then they stood next to each other and moved their hips and legs and butts in perfect unison as fast electronic music and wacko sound effects filled the barn.

“What song are they dancing to?” Marty asked with a huge grin.

“‘Beeper,’” I said. “By the Count and Sinden.”

“You know this song?” Marty was completely amazed.

As I nodded, I failed to add that I knew it only because Andie and Seth had told me about it earlier when we kind of planned to share the dance floor—even before Marty thought of it. As my mother used to say, “Don’t tell your husband everything, only the important things.”