“Oh, good,” she said softly. “You found it.”
I turned around.
She leaned in close, so close her lips were almost touching my ear. Her voice was sweet as honey.
“Real mothers sit up front,” she whispered. “I’m sure you understand.”
I stood there with that little white card in my hand.
My husband Mark was in the back room with Hannah. I could have gone and gotten him. It would have taken thirty seconds. He would have walked out there and torn that gold card in half in front
of everybody, and Crystal knew it.
I could have done it myself. I could have marched to the front row, picked up that card, and put it in Crystal’s hand and told her exactly where she could sit.
I could have made a scene in front of two hundred people.
On Hannah’s wedding day.
I looked at Crystal. She was smiling at me. Waiting. She wanted me to fight. I could see it in her
