She stood in my kitchen while I made coffee.
That bothered me more than the missing picture.
Three weeks before the wedding, Lauren came to my house.
She stood in my kitchen while I made coffee.
She looked nervous.
I assumed she wanted money.
“They know a lot of people. His father rebuilt his construction business years ago.”
Instead, she said, “I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“Ethan’s family is highly respected.”
I waited.
“They know a lot of people. His father rebuilt his construction business years ago. They’re doing very well now. The wedding is going to be formal.”
I stopped pouring coffee.
“I bought a dress.”
Her eyes dropped.
“That’s not what I mean.”
I stopped pouring coffee.
“What do you mean?”
I thought I had misheard her.
She took a breath.
“Please don’t come.”
I thought I had misheard her.
“Don’t come where?”
“To the wedding.”
“You’ll feel out of place, and I won’t be able to relax.”
I stared at her.
Lauren started speaking quickly.
“You’ll feel out of place, and I won’t be able to relax. I’ll spend the entire day worrying.”
“Worrying about what?”
She rubbed her palms together.
“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”
“That something might happen.”
“What could happen?”
She looked away.
I forced myself to ask.
“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”
That silence was all the answer I needed.
Lauren said nothing.
That silence was all the answer I needed.
I put the coffee pot down.
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“Mom, don’t make this harder.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Harder for whom?”
“It’s one day.”
“It’s your wedding.”
“I know.”
“I’m your mother.”
