Joyce sighed dramatically.
“Then try showing some. Apologize to Paige.”
Joyce sighed dramatically.
“Fine. I’m sorry. Weddings are stressful, and the wine—”
“The wine didn’t insult my daughter,” I interrupted. “You did.”
Colin nodded toward the doors.
“Apologize to Paige.”
“Mom, I think you should leave.”
“You’re throwing your own mother out?”
“I’m asking someone who hurt my family to leave.”
Joyce grabbed her handbag and marched toward the exit, muttering about ungrateful children.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Joyce grabbed her handbag.
Then Linda raised her battered old handbag.
“Well, at least nobody tried to expose my collection.”
The room erupted in laughter. Even Paige managed a small smile.
Joyce had spent years trying to prove her possessions were worth thousands.
But the most valuable thing at our wedding was something my daughter had made herself. It had never needed a fake label to prove its worth.
