Chapter 4: The Secret Instructions
Marcus read Lauren's message three times.
I don't think you're going to like it.
He looked toward the bedroom. Vanessa was asleep, one hand resting on the expensive silk pillow she had insisted on buying for their future home.
He stepped into the hallway and called Lauren.
She answered almost immediately.
“Marcus?””
“What's going on?””
There was a pause.
“Can you come to the estate tomorrow morning? I'd rather show you something in person.””
“Lauren, just tell me.””
She exhaled.
“Vanessa asked me to arrange something concerning your mother. I wasn't comfortable with it, but I didn't want to interfere without speaking to you first.””
Marcus gripped his phone.
“What did she ask?””
“She wants your mother moved away from the main wedding party.””
“Moved where?””
“There's a separate entrance near the service corridor. Vanessa suggested that Evelyn use it so she wouldn't be photographed arriving with the immediate family.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
“Why?””
“Vanessa said your mother might not feel comfortable around the other guests.””
Marcus gave a humorless laugh.
“My mother has attended more formal events than Vanessa has.””
“I know.””
“And what else?””
Lauren hesitated.
“She also asked me to make sure your mother doesn't participate in the family photographs.””
Marcus felt something cold settle in his stomach.
“Did she explain why?””
“She said she didn't want the photographs to look inconsistent with the wedding's aesthetic.””
Marcus stared at the wall.
His mother had spent years working double shifts, wearing the same winter coat for several seasons, and skipping holidays so he could have the opportunities she never had.
Now the woman he intended to marry considered her appearance an inconvenience.
“Send me everything,” he said.
“Marcus, I don't want to create problems between you two.””
“You aren't creating anything. You're showing me what already exists.””
The following morning, Marcus arrived at the wedding estate before nine.
Lauren was waiting in the reception office with a folder.
She looked uncomfortable.
“Thank you for coming.””
“Show me.””
Lauren opened the folder.
Inside were printed emails, seating arrangements, and several handwritten notes.
One instruction had been highlighted.
Mother of groom to enter through side entrance. Avoid photographs before ceremony.
Another note read:
Please ensure she does not approach bridal preparation area.
Marcus stared at the words.
“Vanessa wrote this?””
Lauren nodded.
“She sent it yesterday afternoon.””
He turned another page.
There was a seating chart showing Evelyn's assigned position.
Not the front row.
Not even the second row.
She had been placed at a table near the ballroom doors, between distant acquaintances of Vanessa's family and two guests who had originally been assigned to the overflow section.
Marcus tapped the paper.
“Who approved this?””
“Vanessa did.””
“Did you tell her this was unacceptable?””
“I suggested changing the arrangement.””
“And?””
Lauren lowered her eyes.
“She said she was paying for the wedding, so the final decisions were hers.””
Marcus rubbed his jaw.
“She's not paying for everything.””
“I know.””
He looked up.
“Has she been telling people that?””
Lauren hesitated.
“I didn't want to repeat gossip.””
“Lauren.””
She reached into the folder and removed another printed email.
It was from Vanessa to the florist.
The message included a request to remove a small arrangement Evelyn had ordered as a tribute to Marcus's late father.
The explanation was brief.
We don't want anything that looks dated or sentimental. Please remove it from the ceremony design.
Marcus slowly lowered the paper.
His father's memory.
His mother's place.
Everything that mattered to him had become something Vanessa wanted to edit out.
“Thank you for showing me this.””
Lauren nodded.
“There's something else.””
He looked at her.
“Vanessa has been asking about the final payment. She wants to know whether the wedding expenses can be charged to your joint account.””
Marcus frowned.
“We don't have a joint account.””
“She gave me account details and asked whether the remaining balance could be transferred from an account in your name.””
His expression hardened.
“Did you process anything?””
“No. I needed your authorization.””
Marcus pulled out his phone.
“Good. Don't process anything.””
He photographed the documents and returned the folder.
Then he drove to Evelyn's house.
She was in the garden, trimming a rosebush near the front porch.
When she saw his car, she put down the scissors.
“Marcus? Is everything all right?””
He hugged her.
She laughed softly.
“What's gotten into you?””
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.””
Evelyn studied his face.
“You look tired.””
“Mom, can I ask you something?””
“Of course.””
“Have you been feeling uncomfortable about the wedding?””
She looked away.
“Why would you ask that?””
“Just answer me.””
Evelyn folded her hands.
“Vanessa has very particular ideas. I don't want to get in her way.””
Marcus swallowed.
“Has she said something to you?””
“Not directly.””
“What does that mean?””
Evelyn picked up the garden scissors.
“Last week, she called to ask whether I had chosen my wedding outfit.””
“And?””
“I told her I had bought a navy dress.””
Marcus remembered the dress.
The same one Evelyn had proudly shown him in a photograph.
“She asked me to choose something less noticeable,” Evelyn continued.
“She said the photographs would look better if everyone coordinated.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Did she tell you not to wear it?””
“No. She said she didn't want me to feel embarrassed.””
“Mom, that dress is beautiful.””
Evelyn smiled faintly.
“I like it too.””
He took her hand.
“You're wearing it.””
She squeezed his fingers.
“Marcus, please don't let this become a fight.””
He looked at the small house, the garden, and the woman who had never asked him for anything.
“I think I need to have a conversation with Vanessa.””
Evelyn nodded.
But before he could leave, his phone vibrated.
A message from Vanessa appeared.
We need to talk about your mother's wedding invitation. I have an idea that will make everything easier.
Marcus opened the message.
May you like
Then another arrived.
I think she should stay home.
