“What have you been keeping from me?”
***
Daniel’s cousin, Jordan, played music that our families had chosen.
At one point, an old song started playing.
I’d gone outside and cried.
My mother, Ruth, had died four years before my wedding.
She’d sung one song every night when I was little.
I’d gone outside and cried.
Hearing it on my special day reminded me that she wouldn’t see me get married.
Daniel had followed me outside and held me until I calmed down.
***
“I remember,” I said.
Carol nodded.
“I heard you talking to my son.”
I frowned.
“I remember.”
“I went outside to get my coat. You were standing near the entrance.”
She looked down.
“You told Daniel you wished your mother could’ve been there.”
I remembered those words.
“Why are you bringing this up?”
I remembered those words.
Carol glanced at the wooden box.
“Because I didn’t understand something that night.”
