I found a waiter, paid cash for a side of fries, and told Ava we’d leave after dessert.
Then I went to the restroom, locked myself in a stall, and sent Michael the photo with one line beneath it:
Did you know Brooke removed Ava from the meal list herself?
He called before I even returned to the ballroom.
I let it ring……
Part 2
Michael called six times before I buckled Ava into the car.
By the seventh call, we were already pulling out of the venue. Ava had fallen asleep, her head leaning against the window, still wearing the blue ribbon from the flower basket she had carried down the aisle. I answered only because I knew he wouldn’t stop.
“What photo is this?” he asked, skipping any greeting.
His voice was low and tense, the way it used to sound when he was trying not to panic as a kid. I could hear muffled music and cheering behind him, followed by the slam of a door.
“It’s the seating chart,” I said. “The one Denise showed me when your niece apparently didn’t qualify for dinner.”
