“Marilyn.”
“I mean it.”
My voice shook.
“I won’t beg my daughter to let me attend her wedding.”
Ruth rested her hand beside mine.
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
I thought the worst part was over.
I had no idea that Lauren’s fiancé had been given an entirely different explanation for my absence.
Or that an old pearl locket, hidden for years in a Christmas box, would bring that explanation into the open.
PART 2 — THE PICTURES SHE TOOK AWAY
The next morning, I opened the drawer beneath the kitchen counter looking for Lauren’s senior-year photographs.
I didn’t know why I wanted them.
Perhaps because photographs are reassuring when someone you love begins behaving like a stranger.
Ruth had brought toast and coffee.