Chapter 4 - The Wedding Photograph
By noon, Margaret had stopped telling herself the morning's strange events were harmless.
Her phone remained with Vanessa.
Clara had not called back because she could not.
The wheelchair had disappeared from the main foyer again.
And every time Margaret asked where Ethan was, someone gave a different answer.
The ceremony was scheduled for two.
Guests began arriving shortly after noon.
Margaret sat in the drawing room greeting relatives.
She was good at pretending.
She had spent thirty five years hosting dinners beside Thomas Hale.
She could smile while worried.
She could speak warmly while angry.
She could make a guest feel welcome while mentally planning a confrontation.
But when her younger sister Diane arrived, Margaret's mask slipped.
Diane Benton was sixty four and had known Vanessa since birth.
She kissed Margaret's cheek.
"You look tired."
"Apparently I am not photogenic enough for my own daughter's wedding."
Diane looked toward the photographer.
"What happened?"
"Ask me after the ceremony."
Diane sat beside her.
"That sounds ominous."
Margaret lowered her voice.
"Do you remember Clara calling about the property tax documents?"
"No."
"Neither do I."
Diane watched her carefully.
"What is going on?"
"I don't know yet."
"That is not an answer."
"It is the only one I have."
Across the room, Vanessa appeared.
Her white gown was immaculate.
People turned toward her.
She loved that.
Margaret had always known her daughter enjoyed attention, but today it seemed almost desperate.
Vanessa approached.
"Aunt Diane, they need you outside for pictures."
Diane looked at Margaret.
"Do they need Margaret?"
Vanessa smiled.
"Later."
Diane did not move.
"Why later?"
Vanessa's smile tightened.
Margaret touched Diane's hand.
"Go."
Diane looked between mother and daughter.
Then she left.
Vanessa leaned closer.
"You are making this difficult."
"I am sitting quietly in my own house."
"Exactly. Your house."
Margaret heard the emphasis.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"Vanessa."
Guests flowed through the doorway around them.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
"I need today to be about me."
Margaret stared at her.
"It is your wedding. Of course it is about you."
"Then stop looking wounded every time you are not included in something."
Margaret felt the words physically.
"I am your mother."
"I know."
"You hid my wheelchair in a closet."
"Because there are hundreds of flowers and thousands of dollars in photography happening today."
"And my wheelchair contaminates that?"
"Why do you always twist everything?"
Margaret's anger rose.
Then she saw Sophie watching from the hallway.
The girl looked terrified.
Margaret stopped.
Vanessa followed her gaze.
"Sophie, go find your father."
Sophie did not move.
Vanessa's voice sharpened.
"Now."
Sophie ran.
Margaret looked back at Vanessa.
"Why is that child afraid of you?"
Vanessa laughed.
"She is eight."
"That was not an answer."
"Maybe she is overwhelmed."
"Maybe we all are."
Vanessa walked away.
An hour later the ceremony began.
Margaret's wheelchair had been placed at the end of the front row.
Not beside the aisle.
Not where the mother of the bride traditionally sat.
Behind a large arrangement of white hydrangeas.
Margaret could see the ceremony if she leaned slightly forward.
Guests could barely see her.
Diane noticed.
Her face hardened.
Margaret shook her head.
Not now.
The string quartet played.
Sophie walked down the aisle scattering petals.
Halfway to the front she looked at Margaret.
Margaret smiled at her.
The girl relaxed.
Then Vanessa appeared.
For a moment Margaret forgot everything.
She saw the infant she had held in the hospital.
The little girl who had once slept in her parents' bed during thunderstorms.
The teenager Thomas had taught to drive.
The young woman whose first heartbreak had ended with Margaret sitting on the kitchen floor beside her until sunrise.
Margaret began to cry.
Not because the wedding was perfect.
Because memory was cruel enough to make love survive disappointment.
Vanessa reached Ethan.
The officiant spoke.
They exchanged vows.
Ethan promised loyalty.
Vanessa promised honesty.
Margaret almost laughed.
Then she hated herself for it.
The guests applauded.
The newlyweds kissed.
Sophie looked toward Margaret again.
She did not clap.
During cocktail hour, Diane rolled Margaret away from the floral arrangement.
"Tell me now."
Margaret told her about Clara's call.
Diane's expression changed.
"Call her back."
"Vanessa has my phone."
Diane pulled out her own.
"I have Clara's number."
Margaret hesitated.
"Do it."
Diane searched her contacts.
Before she could place the call, Vanessa appeared.
"We are doing family photographs."
Diane looked at her.
"Good. Your mother is ready."
Vanessa's eyes moved to the wheelchair.
"No chair."
Diane blinked.
"What?"
"Mom can sit on the garden bench."
Margaret's voice went quiet.
"My hip cannot handle that bench."
"It's five minutes."
"No."
Vanessa leaned closer.
"Please don't embarrass me."
Margaret stared at her.
Then she understood.
Not upset me.
Not inconvenience me.
Embarrass me.
Margaret looked around at the guests.
Then at her own daughter.
"Take the picture without me."
For one moment Vanessa looked relieved.
That hurt more than anything else.
The family photograph was taken beneath Thomas Hale's maple trees.
Vanessa stood in the center.
Ethan beside her.
Sophie near Ethan.
Diane was asked to join.
Margaret watched from forty feet away.
When the photographer raised his camera, Sophie suddenly stepped out of formation.
She ran to Margaret.
Everyone stared.
Sophie stood beside the wheelchair and placed one hand on Margaret's shoulder.
The photographer lowered his camera.
Vanessa's smile vanished.
Sophie said, "Take this one."
Diane walked over next.
Then Ethan's mother.
Then two cousins.
Within seconds half the family had gathered around Margaret.
The photographer smiled.
"That's actually beautiful."
Vanessa stood alone beneath the floral arch.
Her face went rigid.
Ethan whispered something to her.
She ignored him.
Then she walked toward her mother.
Margaret expected anger.
Instead Vanessa smiled for the guests.
She bent and kissed Margaret's cheek.
Her lips barely moved.
"I told you not to ruin this."
Margaret looked at her.
"No, darling."
Her voice was equally quiet.
"You ruined it when you became ashamed of the woman who raised you."
Vanessa straightened.
For the photograph, she smiled.
The camera flashed.
Later, that image would become evidence.
Not because of Margaret.
May you like
Not because of Vanessa.
Because in the background, half hidden by a window, Ethan could be seen carrying Margaret's suitcase toward the attic stairs.
