THE MOST FAMILIAR wedding rituals can transform themselves into meaningful traditions when it’s your wedding. The tossing of the bouquet, dancing with relatives you haven’t seen in years, the achingly embarrassing toasts…I wanted it all, and I loved every minute of this Christmas wedding.

It was time for the bride and groom to dance with everyone else—in a sort of descending royal order.

So, after Andie and Seth finished amazing the crowd, after the bandleader announced that they could next be seen on Dancing with the Stars, after the music changed into a Cole Porter–Billy Joel recital, the dancing continued. I danced with Seth. Marty fox-trotted Andie around the floor.

Then Marty and Claire danced. Then Marty and Lizzie.

By the time I was swaying to “Time After Time” in the arms of Jacob, Marty was holding little Gabrielle on one strong arm and Tallulah on the other. Quite the memorable image.

I danced with Toby, who hugged my legs. I danced with Tom, then with Jacob, and they both told me I was forgiven, and even that I’d made the best choice.

A few minutes later, when Marty and I were walking back to our table, someone tapped him on the shoulder and said, “May I have this dance with your wife?”

We turned around. It was Gus.

“Okay, but I’ll be watching you, mister,” Marty said. “Don’t think you’re going to try any smooth country-boy moves on my girl.”

Gus and I found a place on the floor up near the band. I was astonished: The boy really knew how to dance—right hand on my back, left hand slightly extended and holding mine. My left hand rested on Gus’s shoulder, on the plush cashmere of Peter’s old suit. I brushed it gently. I moved my face an inch or so closer to the material. Then I whispered, “Thank you.”

Gus looked confused. “Do you want to stop dancing?” he asked.

“Stop?” I said. “Gus, I’ve just begun.”