Why Two Electric Hair Clippers Appeared on the Dance Floor at Our Reception
“She is the groom’s grandmother,” I said. “She should be at the head table with us.”
“The head table is right next to the speakers,” Evelyn said. “She will be miserable.”
“She is not deaf, Evelyn,” I said.
“She is fragile, Clara, and she does not want people staring at her all night,” Evelyn said.
She looked at me, her face tight with a dry, polite smile.
“It is much better if she can slip out early without making a scene,” she said.
“She is not going to make a scene,” I said.
“This is a very expensive dinner, Clara,” she said. “We want everyone to feel comfortable.”
“You want her out of the photos,” I said.
Evelyn set the pen down on the glass table with a small click.
“I want my son to have a beautiful wedding,” she said.
I looked at the blue checkmark next to Table Nine.
Evelyn was trying to push her own mother into the shadow of the pantry door.
I picked up the black pen.
I crossed out the back-row seating plan and put Maribel’s name back at the head table.
