“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Brittany leaned in, lowering her voice.
“So, your mom probably wants to tell you about our situation. Just act surprised, okay? She wants it to be a big reveal.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
Across the room, my mother stood in a champagne-colored dress, her hair freshly styled, her smile radiant as she greeted guests. My father stood slightly behind her, quiet and watchful.
Then she saw me.
“Myra, baby, come here.”
She rushed over and pulled me into a hug that smelled like Chanel No. 5 and self-satisfaction.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered. “I have the most wonderful news to share. Tonight is going to be perfect.”
I hugged her back.
“Yes, Mom,” I said. “I think it will be.”
When my mother took the stage, the string quartet stopped and the crowd gathered. Someone dimmed the lights, leaving a spotlight on Donna Seward as she stepped to the microphone with the grace of a woman who had been rehearsing this moment for months.
