She stood behind my chair and touched one of the flowers woven into my braid.
“Well,” she said, “you certainly committed to it.”
Martha had found me while I was getting ready.
I met her eyes in the mirror.
“Committed to what?”
“The whole rustic look.”
“I like it. It’s our theme, Martha.”
“Oh, I can tell.”
Her fingers moved down the braid.
“Committed to what?”
I shifted forward, putting space between us.
“Please don’t touch it. It took two hours to get right.”
Martha withdrew her hand.
“Relax. I wasn’t going to ruin it, Jillian.”
Then she smiled.
“Please don’t touch it.”
“Today’s supposed to be full of surprises.”
Before I could ask what that meant, Nick knocked.
“Jill?”
“You can’t come in, love!”
Martha opened the door anyway.
Nick covered his eyes.
“You can’t come in, love!”
“Mom!”
I laughed. “You’re safe.”
He lowered his hand and saw me.
His whole expression changed.
“Wow.”
I touched my braid.
“You’re safe.”
“Good wow?”
“The kind where I forget why I knocked.”
Martha sighed.
“Lydia would’ve chosen something more elegant.”
Nick turned toward her.
“Good wow?”
“Mom. Stop comparing them. Respect my wife.”
Martha grabbed her purse and walked out.
