Seven months, two weeks, three days—hours, minutes, seconds are the spare change of time. We left the courtroom, still giddy from our spontaneity, and gobbled cupcakes at the store around the corner.
“My mother will love you,” he promised.
I wasn’t so sure.
Seven months, two weeks, and three days passed by us so quickly, those early months full of newlywed bliss, broken only by the necessary arguments over newly shared space.
“You got married too quickly,” my mother scolded.
“We were together for three months,” I reminded her. “Longer than you and Dad.”
“We were older.”
This is true, but when you’re in love, there’s nothing else to do.
Now, I stood in the corner of the kitchen and watched my mother-in-law prepare a meal, arguably the most important meal of the year. She applied a h
