A sob cut me off. Then another. It was my Lily, and she was crying so hard her words came out in pieces!
“Mo… Mommy…”
“The… they don’t wa…want me any…anymore.”
I don’t remember getting my car keys or pressing the gas! I don’t remember the drive there either. I just remember gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles went white and whispering, “I’m coming, baby, I’m coming,” over and over like a prayer.
The venue was one of those white country chapels with ivy crawling up the side. Guests were already arriving in pastel dresses, laughing and holding little gift bags. I didn’t stop to be polite.
A coordinator pointed me toward a side room when I explained who I was. I pushed the door open, and there she was, my baby, sitting on a folding chair in her pearl dress. Her face was streaked with tears, and the basket of silk petals sat on the floor as if she’d dropped it.
“Mommy,” Lily whispered, reaching for me.
I dropped to my knees and pulled her in. She smelled of hairspray and tears. Brittany was standing by the mirror, her arms crossed over her champagne silk gown. She watched us as if we were a stain she was waiting for someone to clean up.
“What happened?” I asked, even though I already knew.
Brittany tilted her head. Her smile was small and careful, and she smirked when she said, “I already told her. I simply realized a new family should begin with no reminders of the old one.”
