George Brought a Sealed Legal Folder to His Son’s Wedding in an Atlanta Hotel

The late afternoon shadows stretched across the grass.

She held a cup of warm chamomile tea in her hands.

I adjusted my wedding ring again, watching the wind move the bare oak branches near the fence line.

“It’s getting chilly out here,” Evelyn said.

“We should go inside before the sun drops completely,” I said.

We stood up slowly, and I held the glass door open for her.

We walked back into the warmth of the house, leaving the cold evening behind.