Chapter 14
When I told Mom I wanted to propose to Anna, she cried.
Then immediately became bossy.
“Not at a restaurant.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Not on a jumbotron.”
“God, no.”
“Good. I raised you better.”
Bianca helped choose the ring.
She took the responsibility seriously.
“No Voss energy,” she said.
“That is not a jewelry category.”
“It should be.”
We chose a simple oval diamond with a gold band.
Elegant.
Human.
Anna cried when I proposed in Mom’s garden.
Her father cried louder.
Mom pretended something was in her eye.
Bianca took forty-seven photos.
This time, wedding planning was different.
Small guest list.
No power families.
No investors.
No chandeliers unless Mom approved.
Anna wanted Mom involved, but never used.
That distinction healed something in all of us.
At the dress appointment, Anna asked Mom to sit in the best chair.
“Your job,” Anna said, “is to tell me the truth and eat pastries.”
Mom narrowed her eyes.
“I can do both.”
Bianca and I exchanged a look.
The boutique was not the same one.
Mom said she did not need to prove anything twice.
Fair.
When Anna stepped out in a soft cream gown, the room went silent.
Mom stood slowly.
She touched the lace only after Anna nodded.
“You look loved,” Mom whispered.
Anna cried.
I had to leave the room because apparently I was “too emotional for fittings.”
Bianca said it with affection.
I accepted the charge.
Our wedding took place in Mom’s garden.
Twenty-eight guests.
String lights.
A wooden arch.
No marble.
When Mom walked me down the aisle, people stood.
Not because tradition required it.
Because they understood.
She squeezed my arm.
“Ready?”
I looked at Anna.
Then at Bianca crying in the front row.
Then at Mom, strong beside me.
May you like
“Yes,” I whispered.
This time, nobody fell.
