Nick shut the door behind her, then looked at me.
“What did she say before I got here?”
I straightened the brushes on the counter.
“Nothing worth carrying down the aisle.”
“What did she say before I got here?”
“You keep joking when she gets to you.”
“And you keep confronting her.”
“Then three days later, we’re eating at her house like nothing happened.”
I stopped moving the brushes.
“We’re not solving your mother ten minutes before our wedding.”
He crouched beside me.
“And you keep confronting her.”
“After today?”
I nodded.
“After today.”
At the time, I thought postponing the problem meant Martha couldn’t touch our wedding.
I had no idea she’d already decided otherwise.
“After today?”
***
The ceremony was beautiful.
Nick forgot a line of his vows and had to start again. My dad cried.
I loved every second.
Our reception was at our favorite restaurant, exactly where Nick wanted it.
Martha had complained for months that it wasn’t formal enough.
Nick refused to budge.
I loved every second.
“I want the pasta from our first anniversary, those potatoes you steal off my plate, and tomorrow I don’t want us cleaning up after a hundred people.”
That settled it.
