disproportionate to my simple suggestion about moving her fragile grandmother to a table farther from the band.
“You always do this,” she went on. “Try to control everything. Embarrass me in front of everyone.”
“I was just thinking of Grandma Helen’s hearing aids,” I began.
“Stop. Just stop.”
Amber’s voice rose, drawing more attention from the wedding party gathered for the rehearsal dinner. “This is my wedding. Mine. Not yours. Not Grandma’s. I’ve worked too hard to have everything perfect.”
Blake, my soon-to-be son-in-law, shifted uncomfortably beside her, but he remained silent. His parents exchanged glances that managed to convey
