Chương 2
Natalie hated emotional scenes.
Natalie got restless when conversations became serious.
Natalie had always needed more attention after Dad praised me.
There had always been a sentence ready to turn her cruelty into a personality quirk.
“You’re being weird,” she said.
“I’m getting married.”
“Yes, which is generally considered a happy occasion.”
“You’d know.”
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I looked down at the little blue ear protruding between the roses.
“Nothing.”
“Claire.”
The chapel doors opened again before she could continue.
My mother hurried out.
Diane Whitmore was sixty-one and had never hurried gracefully in her life.
Even now, with one hand lifting the hem of her silver dress, she somehow looked offended that the floor had required her to move quickly.
“Where have you been?”
“Bathroom.”
“Jenna said you weren’t downstairs.”
“I found another one.”
“There isn’t another one.”
“Then I had a very strange experience.”
Natalie snorted.
My mother stared at me.
Normally I would have rescued her from confusion.
I did not.
She reached for my veil and straightened a section that did not need straightening.
Her fingers trembled.
That bothered me more than I wanted it to.
I had heard Grant use her name.
I had heard him say she would do her part.
But I had not heard my mother agree to anything.
Not yet.
That distinction mattered.
I needed it to matter.
“You’re cold,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t feel fine.”
“Everybody keeps telling me that.”
“Well, you look like you’re about to testify before Congress.”
Natalie laughed again.
My mother did not.
She lowered her voice.
“If you need a minute, take one.”
The tenderness in it was real enough to hurt.
I wondered how many kinds of betrayal could occupy the same person without canceling out everything else.
Then my mother’s gaze dropped to the bouquet.
“What is that?”
I shifted the roses.
“What?”
“Blue.”
“A ribbon.”
“I didn’t approve blue ribbon.”
Of course she said approve.
For the first time all morning, I nearly laughed.
“It’s not going to attack the color palette, Mom.”
She gave me a wounded look.
“I’m trying to make today beautiful for you.”
“I know.”
That was true.
It was simply no longer the whole truth.
Jenna appeared through the chapel doors and met my eyes.
She did not smile.
My text had reached her.
She walked over without rushing and held out her hand.
“Phone.”
Natalie looked between us.
“Why does she need your phone?”
“Because I don’t want it in my bouquet.”
“You put your phone in your bouquet?”
“I don’t have pockets.”
Jenna took the phone.
Her fingers closed around it.
“Anything special?”
“Yes.”
I held her gaze.
“The audio file I sent you.”
Her expression stayed remarkably neutral.
“Got it.”
My mother turned toward me.
“What audio file?”
“The surprise.”
Her face softened immediately.
“Oh.”
She knew about the heartbeat recording.
At least, she knew about the original one.
Three nights earlier, I had called her after my prenatal appointment and told her I had something planned for the reception.
I had refused to say what.
She had guessed within thirty seconds.
“You’re still doing that?”
“I think everyone should hear it.”
Natalie rubbed her bare arms.
“Hear what?”
My mother smiled at her.
“The baby.”
Natalie went still.
Jenna looked at me.
The hallway seemed to narrow.
“What about the baby?” Natalie asked.
“I recorded the heartbeat at my appointment.”
I pulled the blue teddy bear free enough for her to see its stitched face.
“I was going to surprise Grant.”
Natalie stared at the bear.
I watched her understand that it could record sound.
Her lips parted.
“How does that work?”
“There’s a button.”
“Can I see?”
“No.”
The word came too quickly.
My mother frowned.
Natalie’s hand stopped halfway toward the bouquet.
I softened my voice.
“You’ll hear it with everyone else.”
She looked at Jenna.
Jenna slipped my phone into the small evening bag hanging from her wrist.
Natalie’s face had lost color.
For the first time since I heard Grant behind that door, somebody else was afraid.
The coordinator called my name again.
My uncle Robert appeared behind her, gray-haired and broad-shouldered, holding the folder I had asked Paul Wexler to bring.
Paul himself followed several steps behind.
The sight of my father’s attorney almost broke my composure.
He had attended my high school graduation.
He had sat beside Dad in the hospital during the last week, pretending to read a newspaper neither of them cared about.
Now he looked at me once and understood that whatever I had texted him about was not bridal nerves.
Robert touched the gray folder against his leg.
“You asked for this.”
My mother stared at it.
“What is that?”
I took the folder.
“Something Dad left me.”
Her expression tightened.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“Claire, this is not the time for business.”
I looked at her.
Grant’s voice returned with perfect clarity.
Diane will do her part.
Family unity.
Peace.
“You’re right,” I said.
“It’s time for a wedding.”
My mother relaxed.
Natalie did not.
Paul stepped closer.
“Claire.”
“First row, left side.”
His eyes moved to Jenna, then Natalie, then my mother.
He nodded.
No questions.
That was one of the reasons my father had trusted him.
The quartet stopped.
A hush traveled through the chapel.
The coordinator lifted her headset microphone and whispered something to the musicians.
Then the opening notes of the processional began.
My mother reached for my hand.
I let her take it.
She squeezed once.
“You’re sure?”
For one wild second, I almost said no.
Not because I wanted Grant.
Because there was still a door behind me.
I could leave through it.
I could get into Jenna’s car, take off the dress, call Paul from somewhere quiet, and never let two hundred people watch my family come apart.
That was what I had always done.
May you like
I had made pain private so other people could remain dignified.
My father used to call it diplomacy.
