“I can stay.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I absolutely can.”
“You just yawned during a Bruno Mars song.”
She considered that.
“Fair.”
“I can stay.”
I walked her toward the lobby.
Nathan stayed behind to say goodbye to guests, which gave Mom and me a few quiet minutes together.
Near the doors, something tugged behind me.
One of the pins holding my bustle had loosened.
Something tugged behind me.
A torn section of lace slipped down.
Mom immediately bent toward it.
“Hold still.”
I caught her wrist gently.
“Mom. Leave it.”
She straightened.
“You sure?”
“Mom. Leave it.”
I looked at the tear.
That morning, her shaking fingers had fastened every button.
She’d watched me walk down the aisle.
She’d cried during the vows, eaten overly sweet cake, and danced with me despite insisting she wasn’t tired.
“Yeah.”
She’d watched me walk down the aisle.
Mom slipped her arm through mine.
