The wind off the lake whipped dry oak leaves across the gravel parking lot, scattering them against the tires of my ten-year-old sedan.
Ethan was waiting by the heavy double doors of the entrance, his fingers constantly adjusting his silver watch strap.
“We had to make some very difficult executive decisions about the seating chart,” Ethan said, his voice coming in rapid, defensive bursts before I could even step out of my car.
I closed my door and stood on the cold asphalt. “What does that mean for my friends from the school district?”
“The guest list is locked, Mom,” he said, looking over my shoulder toward the main road. “We had to prioritize people who can help me with the regional promotion next year.”
“I only asked for four seats, Ethan,” I said.
He adjusted his watch strap again, the metal clicking against his wrist. “We had to cut a lot of people, Mom, it’s not personal.”
A black luxury sedan pulled into the parking spot next to mine, its engine humming quietly as it came to a stop.
Carol Vance, Ashley’s mother, sat in the passenger seat, her chin tilted up as she stared down her nose through the glass.
Ashley sat in the back seat, already touching the string of pearls at her throat as she watched us.
“Is that Carol’s new car?” I asked.
“She needed something reliable for the winter,” Ethan said, his voice dropping as the car doors unlocked.
Inside the lobby, the air was warm and smelled of beeswax and expensive room spray.
I stood near the brass coat rack, holding my simple beige wool coat over my arm while the others gathered their things.
Carol stood in the center of the Persian rug, her voice booming through the high-ceilinged room.
“Our family associates expect an elite presentation, not a high school gymnasium potluck,” Carol said, tilting her chin up as she spoke to the young wedding coordinator.
The coordinator nodded rapidly, taking notes on a small digital tablet.
Ashley stepped closer to her mother, her fingers resting lightly on her pearls as she looked at me.
Carol turned her head and looked down her nose, her eyes resting on the simple wool coat in my hands.
“Of course, some people don’t quite grasp the demands of a high-society wedding,” Carol said, her voice carrying across the quiet lobby. “It takes a certain background to understand the details.”
I hung my coat on a wooden hanger, the metal hook scraping against the brass bar.
“The venue looks very nice, Carol,” I said.
“We must maintain our family standards,” Carol said, turning her back to adjust a large floral arrangement on the marble table.
Ethan stood beside her, his eyes fixed on the floor as he adjusted his watch strap again.
“Did you get the RSVP cards from my friends, Ethan?” I asked.
He did not look up from the floor. “I think Ashley handled those.”
Ashley did not look at me, her hand still resting on the pearls at her neck.
“We had to streamline the responses to keep everything on schedule,” Ashley said, her voice sharp and clipped.
