At her sister Anita's wedding, Peggy's father is not mentioned.
Peggy is sixteen and knows all of the traditions from books and the hushed phone conversations her mother thought were private while the plans were being made. Everyone smiles when her uncle gives Anita away, but Peggy watches her mother carefully, seated next to the groom's parents. The rest of the bridal party is watching Anita, but Peggy stands at the end of the line, watching her mother tuck her upper lip between her teeth when the groom's father puts a hand on his wife's shoulder.
Her mother was cordial at the rehearsal dinner the night before, and Peggy's met the couple once before - they're polite, educated, religious - she knows deep down her mother is not judging, but rather aches for her father.
No one mentions him at the reception, and when the maid of honor, who Peggy has known all her life, talks about someone who's missing from the day's celebration, it's a childhood friend of Anita's. She recently gave birth to a baby boy and is unable to join in the festivities. Anita tears up at an anecdote of the trio planning weddings in their junior high days, and Peggy suddenly feels too sick to swallow her bite of cake. She watched her father die in junior high and that was only four years ago. But no one mentions him.
Her mother assumes she stole sips of wine when she says she needs air because she's queasy.
She normally doesn't think about that day. She allows herself a brief moment on her thirtieth birthday, but otherwise chooses not to. It's Don's mention of 1955 that gets her started. He got married that year. So did Anita. Peggy lies and says she doesn't remember the year.
When she takes Don's hand, she's initially scared. She knows what bosses are capable of, and pictures Ted for a brief second before standing. But Don doesn't make any advances. He keeps his hands at a platonic position, and sways gently, making sure to not bump into her.
It hits her then that Anita never had a father daughter dance. She danced with her new husband, but not her father.
Peggy never gave any thought to her own wedding, not that day in 1955, and certainly not on her most recent birthday, but now it hits her that she'll never have a father daughter dance, either.
This is the closest thing she'll ever have to it.
She drops her head against Don's chest and stares ahead, breathing in his cologne, trying not to cry.
When he kisses her hair, she decides she's fighting a losing battle.