Part Four: The Things I Failed to Notice
The months leading to the wedding became crowded with appointments.
There were dresses to alter, flowers to select, invitations to address, menus to approve, and relatives who seemed to have opinions about everything.
Without meaning to, I began allowing wedding plans to consume our weekends.
One Saturday disappeared because of a cake tasting.
Another was lost to a meeting with the photographer.
Then came fittings, venue visits, and long conversations about table arrangements.
Our Mom and Me Days slowly faded.
At first, I promised Emma we would make pancakes the following week.
Then the following week became the week after that.
Eventually, we stopped mentioning them.
One morning, I reached for the small dish beside the kitchen sink where we usually kept our matching bracelets.
Both were gone.
“Emma, have you seen our bracelets?”
She looked up from the picture she was coloring.
For one brief second, hurt passed across her face.
Then she lowered her eyes.
“It’s okay, Mommy. We don’t need them anymore.”
The answer unsettled me.
“Why would you say that?”
She shrugged.
“We just don’t.”
I should have sat beside her.
I should have asked another question.
I should have looked carefully at the picture beneath her hand.
But my phone rang.
The florist needed an immediate decision about centerpieces, and I answered without thinking.
While I discussed peonies and candles, Emma returned to her drawing.
Had I looked more closely, I would have seen that she had drawn two figures—one for herself and one for me.
Only one of them wore a bracelet.
The other wrist was empty.
But I did not notice.
Not then.
