This was three years.

You’ve been waiting for this grandson for three years.” My mother-in-law fell silent, the tenderness gone from her face, replaced by the calculation that had always lived underneath it.

Joe took a step toward me and leaned in close, and under his breath, where he thought only I could hear it, he said, “You’re going to regret this.” I looked at him.

And then I smiled, and I lifted the microphone I was still holding, and I said into it, so the whole room heard: “The microphone is still on, Joe.” A few sharp laughs cracked across the ballroom.