Dad facetimed me at 1:17 a.m. I still don’t know why. Maybe he wanted to show me mom pacing.
Daniel and I sat in Bellweather’s guest cottage eating our first breakfast as a married couple.
Eggs, toast, coffee, fresh fruit.
340 missed calls romance.
Daniel looked at the screen.
“Should we contact the FCC?”
“I think my mother is the FCFC now.”
Milo was with us because Ring security had declared the guest cottage part of his jurisdiction.
He looked at the phone.
“Can I text grandma?”
“No.”
“Thumbs up number.”
“Thumbs down.”
“Number goose emoji.”
Daniel and I answered together.
“No goose.”
At 9:04, mom texted, “We are coming over.”
I replied, “No.”
She came anyway, of course.
At noon, mom, dad, and Vanessa appeared at my house.
Vanessa wore a maternity shirt saying, “Eating for three.” She was barely showing.
Mom carried her phone in one hand. In the other, she held a printed copy of our wedding photo printed.
The photograph had existed online for 15 hours.
Somewhere between the baby shower and my porch, my mother had found a printer.
That level of commitment should qualify for college credit.
I opened the door.
Daniel stood behind me.
Milo stayed upstairs.
Mom held up the photograph.
“You got married at Belleather Estate?”
“Yes.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“You knew how much I wanted to see it?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You did this on purpose.”
“I got married on purpose.”
“You hid the venue.”
“It was printed on your invitation.”
“You said Bellweather Estate.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You did this on purpose.”
“I got married on purpose.”
“You hid the venue.”
“It was printed on your invitation.”
“You said Bellweather estate.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t explain it was the Bellweather estate.”
Dad looked at her.
“It did say estate.”
She spun around.
“You didn’t know either.”
Dad shrugged.
“I assumed it was a wedding place.”
“It is apparently.”
She turned back to me.
“You should have called.”
“So should you.”
“I did yesterday.”
She froze.
“I meant before.”
“You could have called before the wedding and told me you were coming.”
“That is not what I mean.”
“I know.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“This entire wedding feels like an attack on me.”
I looked at her.
“How?”
“You had 214 guests.”
“Yes.”
“My shower had 43.”
“Congratulations.”
“You had a ballroom.”
“It came with the house.”
“You had a string quartet.”
“They were musicians.”
“You made my shower look cheap.”
“I wasn’t at your shower.”
“Exactly.”
I stared at her.
Even Daniel looked confused.
Vanessa continued.
“Everyone kept comparing them.”
“Why were people comparing a baby shower to a wedding?”
“Because yours was ridiculous.”
“Your event had two seven teddy bears.”
“They were elegant.”
“One was blocking a fire exit.”
She gasped.
“How do you know that?”
“Aunt Susan showed me pictures.”
Mom waved the wedding photo.
“Enough. This is about family.”
There it was again.