18
Tammy
2016
My phone screen lit up. Four missed calls from my father.
‘Can you not look at your phone right now?’ Vince said.
‘My dad called –’
‘He can wait.’ By Vince’s standards, everything ranked below the wedding. It was a few months away. A spring fete on the rooftop garden of Rockefeller Center with the pillars of St Patrick’s Cathedral in the background. Then a few floors down for the glittering reception in the Rainbow Room. Since Vince’s family was footing the bill for the wedding – my parents’ contribution of $20,000 might account for a fifth of the floral arrangements – I deferred to them on wedding decisions.
And there was no doubt in my mind that they would make it the envy of every bride. The Van Fleets were the type of people who knew how to have a good time. Thei
