I kissed her forehead and stood up. Something inside me hardened.
“Wait here for one minute. Just one.”
“Hazel, this isn’t right.”
***
I found my ex-husband’s fiancée in the hallway near the coat closet, adjusting her veil in a gilded mirror. She saw my reflection and didn’t even turn around.
“If this is about the suit, save your breath,” she said.
“Vanessa, she’s a child.”
“She’s Patrick’s daughter. I never said she wasn’t a child.”
“You promised her she’d be a flower girl. She practiced for months!”
She saw my reflection.
Vanessa finally turned. Her smile was polished and cold.
“And I let her be part of the day. She’s here, isn’t she?”
“In a boy’s suit three sizes too big!”
“She’s from Patrick’s side. I explained that to her. The groom’s side dresses differently. That’s tradition.”
“That is not a tradition! That is something you made up a few minutes ago!”
