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I lift my eyes higher on the mirror in order to see the door. My heart races when it opens and I see my mother standing there.
She gives me a weak smile as she enters the room. Emmett invited my parents, but I never imagined they’d actually show up. I figured I’d get hate mail at worst and at best, they’d ignore the fact that I’m marrying the man they claim is to blame for Vaughn’s death.
When they arrived last night while we were rehearsing, I just knew it was to start drama, but they sat quietly, even chatted with Emmett’s mom and dad. We didn’t talk much. We never really do, but I guess it’s good that they’re here. I think I would’ve held a grudge if they didn’t show up. I don’t want to feel that way about my own parents.
“Do you want us to stay?” Em asks, her voice a low whisper.
I shake my head. I have no idea what my mother plans to say to me, but I’d prefer not to be embarrassed and have witnesses around if she gets nasty.
“I wanted to give you these,” she says, stepping forward.
I look down at her hands, but I don’t immediately reach for the dog tags in her grip.
I know the importance of them. I know how much she both loved and hated them. They were the reason her son was gone, but they were also one of the last things to touch him while he was alive. The dichotomy of that always made me wonder which side won out when they disappeared from beside the framed American flag she was given at Vaughn’s funeral.
“Those are yours,” I tell her, emotion threatening to clog my throat.
Her eyes reach mine, and I see the pain there. Her loss is as fresh as it was the day those men showed up on our doorstep to give her the awful news. It doesn’t excuse the way she disappeared inside of herself when she still had another child to raise, but as a woman that now loves someone with their entire heart, I have a better understanding of what that loss is capable of doing to someone.
“I have to have them back,” she says, her cheek twitching when she attempts to give me a smile. “You understand.”
“I do,” I tell her.
“I know he’s a good man,” she says, her hands trembling as she places the tags in my upturned palm. “He was always such a sweet boy.”
“He’s good to me,” I agree. “He’s an amazing human being.”
“Vaughn just adored him.”
She doesn’t offer her own feelings about him, and I guess that might be too much to expect.
I’m not wearing rose-colored glasses. I know better than to hope that we’ll work through all of our problems and that my parents will get involved in my life. If anything, this feels more like a goodbye than a mother trying to mend fences and fix what she’s broken.
Oddly, I’m okay with it. I have this family here, and they’ve put no conditions on their love for me. I’ve been given the chance to mature and grow and succeed, all with them standing back and letting me experience life and learn from my choices.
“Thank you,” I tell her as I wrap the chain around the stems of my flower bouquet. “I know it must be hard for you to be here.”
She nods when a part of me was hoping that she’d argue, that she’d tell me it’s not difficult to watch her daughter marry the man of her dreams, but that would be asking too much.
“You’ll get those back to me?” she asks, her eyes glued to the tags hanging just below the cluster of hydrangeas in my hand.
“I will,” I promise, knowing what’s going to come next and hating the way that it’s going to make me feel.
“We won’t be able to stay for the ceremony.”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek so I don’t speak my mind. It would serve no purpose, and would only hurt me more because I know it wouldn’t change a thing. I keep my mouth shut to preserve my own peace, not to protect her feelings.
“Have a safe trip back to Nebraska,” I tell her, turning away and looking back at my dress in the mirror.
I squeeze my eyes closed just as the door opens and closes, trying to accept that it may be the very last time I see my mother. My efforts are best placed elsewhere, namely working to build my life and future with the man I love.
I know my parents came because in their own way they needed to see that I was going to be okay. It allows them to fully wash their hands of me and not feel guilty about it.
I shake my head, taking a deep fortifying breath.
