The reception is at the Marriott. I steer our rental into the lot and find a place to park. Monie opens her door and gets out. We’ve just come from having pictures taken down at some park I have no name for. To say it was awkward for me to be standing next to my son in several of the photos while Monie looked on would be right on target, with me as the big red bullseye. Thank God, that’s over with, except now I have the reception to deal with, meaning I’ll be sitting at the bride and groom’s table while Monie sits with strangers. I can’t wait for this f*****g day to be over.
I pull back the door to the reception hall for my wife and we walk in without a word. Monie goes ahead, leaving me to stand in line with the wedding party. I catch a glimpse of a room flourishing with white lilies and
