Same as always.
Tax attorney ankles and a soul like a locked file cabinet.
Shelby lifted her wineglass.
“We’re just so grateful everyone could come before the wedding.”
Everyone meant my mother’s church friends, two cousins who lived for gossip, Andrew’s parents from Dublin, Ohio, and Pastor Glenn, who looked deeply uncomfortable but unwilling to miss free pot roast.
My mother reached across the table and patted Shelby’s hand.
“Your grandmother would have loved this.”
I almost laughed.
Grandma Ruth once told Shelby she had “the moral depth of a puddle in July.”
Daniel’s fingers brushed mine under the table. Patio,Lawn & Garden
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