Why Two Electric Hair Clippers Appeared on the Dance Floor at Our Reception
He carried it to the middle of the floor, setting it down on a small metal stand near the microphone.
The silence in the ballroom was absolute now. Even the catering staff stopped moving, standing near the kitchen doors with their trays held against their chests.
Evelyn stood up from the head table, her chair making a sharp, squeaking sound on the floor. She did not speak, but her fingers were gripped tightly around her purse strap.
Maribel watched us from her seat, her small hands resting on the edge of the white tablecloth, her blue scarf bright under the lights.
Mason reached into his pocket, took out the brass key, and unlocked the box. The brass hinges gave a small, clean click as he lifted the lid.
Inside lay the two black electric hair clippers, their long black cords neatly coiled.
He reached down and took the first set of clippers, then handed the second set to me. The metal was cold against my palm.
“There is one more tradition we need to follow tonight, and it is the most important one,” Mason said, his voice carrying clearly through the silent room.
