He ignored it.
“I asked for a picture with you before dinner. I didn’t know where you were. I should have come looking sooner.”
Evie shook her head because she did not know what he was supposed to be sorry for.
He looked at the drawing in his hand.
“Can I keep this?”
Evie looked at Celeste.
Then back at him.
“Yes.”
Her mother led her toward the exit.
They did not go through the ballroom.
They left through the service door.
Outside, evening air moved across the loading area. Evie could hear the muffled wedding music through the wall.
Her mother crouched beside the car before opening it.
“I need to ask you something important.”
Evie looked at her.
“Did Aunt Celeste ever do anything like that before?”
Evie thought carefully.
There had been smaller things. Corrections during dress fittings. A hard squeeze of the hand when Evie spoke while adults were talking. A Christmas picture where Celeste told her not to smile “like that.” Nothing Evie had known to bring home as a story.
She told her mother.
Her mother’s face tightened with each example.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”
Evie leaned against her.
“I didn’t know it was bad enough.”
Her mother closed her eyes.
“You never have to decide if something is bad enough before telling me.”
That sentence became one of the things Evie remembered most clearly about the wedding.
Inside the venue, the cake cutting was delayed.
The groom returned to the ballroom alone.
He did not make an announcement about Evie. He told the guests there had been a family issue and asked the band to take a break while he and Celeste spoke privately.
Celeste accused him of humiliating her on their wedding day.
