She turned to the young usher, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Put Mrs. Herrera in the third row, please,” Carol said. “The aisle seat has a very clear view of the screen.”
I looked past Carol toward the front of the chapel. The first two rows on both sides were marked with thick white satin ribbons.
“Is Ethan aware of this?” I asked.
“Ethan is busy preparing himself for the ceremony,” Carol said, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “We do not need to disturb him with seating charts.”
I did not argue. I followed the usher down the carpeted aisle, past rows of unfamiliar faces.
He led me to the third row and gestured to a seat behind a large pillar draped in white hydrangeas.
I sat quietly, smoothing the coral skirt over my knees as the organ music began to play.
The ceremony passed in a blur of soft light and whispers. Ethan stood at the altar, his silver watch strap catching the glare of the candles as he adjusted it over and over.
The reception hall of the Willow Creek Country Club was a vast room of gold-leaf mirrors and crystal chandeliers. By six in the evening, the air was warm with the scent of roasted beef and expensive perfume.
I was seated at table twelve, tucked away near the swinging doors of the kitchen where the servers carried heavy trays of champagne.
None of my friends from the school district were there; my oldest friend Martha’s seat remained empty, her returned invitation still sitting on my kitchen counter at home.
A woman in a silk dress sat to my left, introducing herself as Ashley’s cousin from Lake Forest. She adjusted her diamond bracelet and turned to me with a polite smile.
“Are you a friend of the bride’s family?” she asked.
“I am Ethan’s mother,” I said.
She blinked, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “Oh, I see. I thought Carol was, well, it is a very large wedding, isn’t it?”
She turned to talk to the man on her other side, leaving me to stare at the floral centerpiece.
