“Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“I’m leaving the church.”
“What happened?”
I told him.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he was quiet.
“Brittany, I understand why you were angry,” he said finally. “But that must have been terrible for everyone.”
“I know.”
“Did it help?”
I looked back toward the church doors.
“I don’t know.”
When I got home, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table coloring.
She looked up immediately.
“Mommy! Did Aunt Amanda look pretty?”
I swallowed.
“Yes, sweetheart. She looked beautiful.”
“Did she like the wedding?”
“I think she had a complicated day.”
Sophie considered that answer.
Then she returned to her drawing.
I went upstairs before she could see me cry.
Three days passed before Amanda called.
I almost ignored her.
“Brittany,” she said when I answered, “we need to talk.”
“Are you calling to yell at me?”
“No. Not exactly.”
She sounded tired.
