In front of my mother, who was holding a paper plate of chips and staring.
In front of Tom’s parents.
In front of Aunt Deb and Uncle Frank and Rachel’s friends from work.
In front of my children, who were playing on the swing set at the far end of the yard. Sophie had stopped swinging. She was looking right at them.
The fruit salad bowl was very heavy in my hands. I remember that. It was so heavy.
Michael pulled away. He only pulled away when he saw me standing in the doorway.
His face went through a lot of things very fast. Surprise. Guilt. Then something smooth and practiced, like a mask sliding into place.
“It was a dare,” he said awkwardly. He laughed. “Your cousin Danny dared us. It’s a party thing. It’s a joke.”
My cousin Danny, who was standing a few feet away with a beer in his hand, looked startled. “I
said somebody should kiss the bride,” he said. “I meant Tom.”
Rachel stepped back from Michael. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was smiling. A big, bright, satisfied smile. She looked right at me.
