Chapter 5 - The Tight Smile
The music didn't stop all at once. It thinned out, like somebody had turned a knob slow. I remembered the chandeliers first because I wouldn't look at anyone's face. The light shook a little in the crystals when the bass cut, and then there was just the sound of shoes on the dance floor and somebody's glass set down too hard.
Lauren was still staring at Marcus. Her mouth was open from whatever she'd been about to say, and then she closed it and smiled. Not the big wedding smile from the pictures by the stairs. It was tighter, pulled hard at the corners.
"Oh, my God," she said, and she laughed. It was a short laugh, up high. "This is getting so serious for a misunderstanding."
Nobody laughed with her. I could feel Dad's hand on my shoulder. His thumb wasn't moving anymore. It had stopped right when Marcus said what he said about the hallway.
Lauren looked around at the tables. At Mrs. Keller. At my aunt. At the girls from her work with their phones half up. She lifted both hands a little, like she was letting everybody in on it.
"We've all lost jewelry before, right?" she said. "She's six. She picks things up. I pointed and my voice got loud. That's on me. Wedding day nerves."
She said wedding day like it explained it. The flowers behind her were white and pink and too tall, and her veil had slipped back over one shoulder. One of her drop earrings caught the light when she turned her head. I watched that earring instead of her eyes.
Then she stepped toward me.
"I didn't mean to scare you, sweetie," she said, softer now. Her voice went sweet in a way I hadn't heard that day. "Come here. Let Lauren fix this."
She reached out with her right hand, palm down, fingers loose, the way adults do when they want a picture to look kind. The nails were fresh and pale. I could smell her perfume and the hair spray from her half-up hair.
I didn't think about it. I jerked back so fast my braid hit Dad's arm. My hands were still closed around the ring. It pressed into my palm and hurt.
Somebody near the cake table made a small sound.
Dad moved. He didn't grab her wrist. He just put his own hand up, flat, between her hand and my face. Just enough space that her fingers stopped in the air.
"Don't," he said. It was quiet. He didn't look at her when he said it. He looked at me. "Give her room."
Lauren's hand hung there for a second. The smile stayed, but her eyes went wet and angry at the same time. She lowered her hand slow and pressed it against the front of her gown, right over the V-neck, like she was holding herself together.
"Daniel," she said. "You're really doing this? In front of everyone?"
Dad didn't answer that. He glanced past her toward the side of the ballroom where the coordinator stood with a clipboard against her black dress. I hadn't noticed her come closer. The DJ was behind his table with his headphones around his neck, waiting.
Dad cleared his throat. "We need to see what he has," he said. "Not out here."
Marcus hadn't moved. He held the gimbal with both hands, the little screen tipped up. He looked calm, not excited. Like this was just another job where he had to wait for people to decide.
"We can use the bridal suite," the coordinator said. "It's quiet. No guests."
Lauren turned toward her. "We don't need to pull people out of our reception for this. Just show us here and we move on."
"No," Dad said. "Not here."
He said it plain. Not loud. He kept his hand near me, not touching Lauren at all. The room felt warm from all the bodies standing still. My pink dress stuck to the back of my legs.
Lauren looked from Dad to Marcus to the crowd. The tight smile came back. She nodded once, quick.
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"Fine," she said. "Private. Let's get it over with."
She didn't walk away. She stayed right there by the dance floor, her white skirt brushing the floor, while Dad bent down a little and said close to my ear, "Stay with me, okay?" I nodded, and he straightened up and nodded to the coordinator to lead the way.
