I read that last message several times.
Not because it repaired anything.
Because it was the first time my son had acknowledged what he’d done without immediately telling me why I shouldn’t be upset.
I put the phone on my nightstand.
The next morning, I took the dress to a cleaner I’d used for years.
The owner, Mrs. Chen, examined it beneath a bright lamp.
“What happened?”
“Wedding cake.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“An accident?”
I hesitated.
“No.”
She looked at me briefly, then returned to the fabric.
“I’ll try. The beading makes it delicate, so I don’t want to promise too much.”
“Thank you.”
As she wrote the receipt, she noticed my name.
“Eleanor, weren’t you attending your son’s wedding yesterday?”
I nodded.
Her expression softened.
“I hope the rest of the evening was pleasant.”
I almost told her everything.
Instead, I took the receipt and thanked her.
Outside, I sat in my car for a while before turning the key.
I wasn’t angry about the money.
The hotel bill was substantial, but I’d agreed to pay it. I would honor that agreement.
I wasn’t even particularly angry about the dress.
It could be cleaned or replaced.
What I couldn’t stop seeing was Daniel’s face when Vanessa smeared the cake on me.
His mouth open in laughter.
His eyes moving toward the other guests, as though he needed them to understand the joke.
