Love Isn’t Rent
I wasn’t there.
I heard it third-hand.
I heard how she calmly accepted the papers with a bright hostess smile, right in front of a bride from Auburn and her whole entourage.
She thanked the deputy as if he’d hand-delivered a bouquet, and finished pinning the dress flawlessly.
That is my mother.
The show must, and did, and always will, go on.