“What?”
“Jake’s boss is coming.”
“Congratulations to Jake’s boss.”
“Mom.”
I waited.
“Robert Anderson. He’s senior leadership at Sterling Tech. There’ll be other executives there too.”
“I know what Sterling Tech is.”
Rachel gave me a look.
“Right. Anyway, these are serious business people.”
I put down my mug.
“And?”
“Please don’t spend the night talking about your company.”
There it was.
I leaned against the counter.
“My company.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain it.”
She exhaled.
“I just don’t want you cornering Jake’s coworkers and pitching your consulting thing.”
“My consulting thing.”
“Mom, please don’t make this difficult.”
“I wasn’t planning to pitch anybody.”
“Good.”
She picked up her coffee.
Then she added the line that stayed with me.
“Just blend in.”
I looked at my daughter.
The daughter whose college tuition I had helped cover.
Whose first apartment deposit I had paid.
Whose wedding invoice was sitting open on my laptop.
“Blend in,” I repeated.
“It’s my wedding.”
“I’m aware.”
“And I don’t want people thinking—”
She stopped.
“Thinking what?”
Rachel looked away.
“That you’re trying too hard.”
I understood perfectly.
I smiled.
“Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you.”
The morning of the wedding, I chose a navy silk dress, pearl earrings, and low heels.
Elegant.
Quiet.
Nothing that demanded attention.
I took an Uber to the venue because I intended to have champagne and because, unlike half the people lecturing me about business, I understood risk management.
Rachel looked beautiful.
That part was never complicated.
When I saw her standing at the end of the aisle, I saw the six-year-old girl who insisted on wearing rain boots with Easter dresses.
The teenager who called me from a gas station after scratching my car.
The college graduate who squeezed my hand before walking across the stage.
For all our problems, she was my daughter.
I wanted the day to be perfect for her.
The ceremony was.
Then came the reception.
During cocktails, I stayed away from Jake’s corporate crowd exactly as promised.
I listened while two Sterling executives discussed an industry acquisition they clearly understood only from the press release.
I knew every detail.
My attorneys had negotiated it.
I said nothing.
At dinner, I was halfway through my salmon when Rachel’s maid of honor, Amy, stood with the microphone.
She began normally.
Stories about college.
Bad dates.
