Chapter 4 - HER SIDE OF THE STORY
Martha stood beside the entrance with her wealthy best friend, Vivian, gripping her arm.
Her mascara had streaked.
Her silver dress was damp at the hem.
She looked like the injured person.
It was a role she knew well.
Vivian stared at my hair.
Then at the braid on the side table.
“What happened?”
Martha answered before anyone else could.
“She humiliated me.”
Nick put down the microphone.
“Mom, leave.”
“I have a right to explain.”
“You cut my wife’s hair.”
“It was a joke.”
“Then explain the joke.”
Martha opened her mouth.
Closed it.
All around us, people stopped whispering.
Nick had never spoken to her that way in public.
Neither had I.
“Tell them what was funny,” I said.
Martha’s eyes landed on me.
For one second, the tears disappeared.
“You’ve been waiting for this.”
“No. I was waiting for my first dance.”
Vivian let go of her arm.
“Did you really do that?”
Martha looked betrayed.
“You know how she’s been treating me.”
“I asked about her hair.”
Behind Vivian stood her daughter, Caroline.
Martha’s preferred bride.
Caroline and I had always been polite, awkward strangers at birthdays and holiday dinners.
Now she was looking at me with open horror.
“My God,” she whispered.
“I’m so sorry.”
Martha reached for her.
“Caroline, tell them. You understand our family.”
Caroline stepped back.
“I’m not part of your family.”
The words hit harder than shouting.
Martha glanced at the guests.
At the phones people had lowered but hadn’t put away.
Then she saw Ruth beside Nick.
“You,” she said.
Ruth didn’t move.
“This is exactly why Mother shut you out.”
“No,” Ruth replied.
“This is why you told people she did.”
Martha lunged toward the side table.
For a moment, I thought she was reaching for my braid.
Instead, she grabbed for the envelope.
Nick caught it first.
The restaurant manager stepped between them.
“Ma’am, you need to leave.”
Martha shook him off.
“I paid for this wedding.”
“No, you didn’t,” I said.
Her head snapped toward me.
“We paid for the room. The food. The flowers. We even paid for your dress.”
Vivian’s expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
Martha went pale.
Vivian reached into her purse and took out her phone.
“Martha told me you needed help.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“How much help?” Nick asked.
Vivian looked at him.
May you like
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
And for the first time that night, Martha had absolutely nothing to say.
