Her wedding dress was at my father’s house, sealed in a preservation box on the top shelf of my old closet. I had promised myself I would wear it someday, in her honor.
Some days the grief still felt fresh.
My phone buzzed. Dad’s name lit up the screen.
« Hey, sweetheart. You on your way soon? »
« Just packing now, » I said. « I’ll be there before dinner. »
« Good, good. Susan’s been running around like a tornado. She’s been organizing the upstairs rooms, getting everything ready for guests. »
I paused, a sweater half-folded in my hands. « Organizing what, exactly? »
« She’s been organizing the upstairs rooms. »
« Oh, you know her. She likes things tidy. Don’t worry about it. »
I forced a small laugh. « Okay, Dad. See you tonight. »
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