Mom told me my fiancé’s mother had called her two days earlier. Very politely, she had suggested Mom “keep things simple” because their family photographer would be taking pictures and she didn’t want anyone feeling pressured to compete with expensive clothing. Then, almost casually, she had asked whether Mom owned anything “appropriate for a place like this.”
“So I wore this,” Mom said, smoothing the faded skirt. “Not because I couldn’t dress better. I wanted to know whether the woman my daughter might call family would treat me differently when she thought I had nothing to impress her with.”
I felt sick remembering every comment from dinner.
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