Chapter 6 - I Walked Back Into the Light With the Mark Showing
I stood in the hallway for a long minute after I put the phone away. The marble was cool under my shoes and the air from the ballroom doors felt warm against my face. My left cheek still burned. I didn't touch it again. I smoothed the front of my burgundy dress, checked that my earrings were straight, and picked up my small clutch from where I had set it on the ledge.
The double doors were open. From where I stood I could see the chandelier and the tops of the tall white arrangements. I could hear the low talk of the guests and the clink of trays being set down too hard. The musicians had stopped playing. That silence made my breathing sound loud to me.
I walked toward the light.
The floor changed from the hallway marble to the ballroom marble and my heels made a sharper sound. A waiter near the entrance looked up first. He didn't move, just held his tray with both hands and watched me pass. Then an older couple at the nearest table turned. The woman's eyes went straight to my left cheek. She leaned to her husband and whispered something behind her hand. He didn't answer.
I kept walking. I had paid for every flower in this room and I knew the exact width of the aisle between the tables. I did not hurry and I did not look down.
Halfway to the center, I felt the room shift. More heads turned. Someone near the dance floor stopped mid-sentence. A young woman lifted her phone and then her friend pushed her arm down. The manager was standing off to the side near the columns with the dark tray held level in front of him. The stack of white contracts caught the chandelier light. He watched me, professional and still, and gave me a small nod. He did not leave his place.
Tiffany was still standing alone in the center where I had last seen her from the doorway. Her white strapless gown looked bright under the lights. Her blonde updo had loosened on one side. Her chest was moving fast. When she saw me, her mouth opened and then closed.
She crossed the last few feet between us quickly, her heels clicking. The skirt of her gown brushed against my dress.
"Mom, what did you do?" she said. Her voice was low at first, tight enough that only the people closest could hear. "Do you see what is happening? The music stopped. No one is serving."
I looked at her directly so the mark on my cheek was fully visible. I didn't cover it.
"I walked back in," I said.
Her eyes flicked to my left cheek and stayed there. For a second her confrontational stare broke. She swallowed. Then she glanced around at the guests watching us and her jaw set again.
"Everyone is staring at us," she said. "You're ruining the atmosphere."
The words landed in the quiet. A guest behind me gave a soft intake of breath. The manager shifted his weight but stayed where he was with the tray.
I felt the heat rise in my face, but I kept my voice even. "The atmosphere changed before I left the hallway."
"You can't do this at my wedding," Tiffany said, louder now. "Tell them to keep serving. Tell them this is still on."
I heard murmurs move through the tables. A man two rows back said, "Where's Daniel?" A woman answered, "He was just here." I looked past Tiffany's shoulder toward the back doors and the bar area. My son was not there. The tuxedoed usher who had stood in the doorway earlier was gone too.
Tiffany followed my glance and then turned back to me. "Don't look for him. Look at me."
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So I did. We stood face to face in the middle of the floor with the chandelier above us and the white flowers tall on either side. The red mark throbbed, but I didn't lift my hand to it. Let them see it, I thought. Let them make of it what they would.
"I'm here," I said.
