The number hung in the air between us like something tangible and heavy. $127,000. I thought of David, of our simple ceremony at city hall and dinner at his parents’ house. My forty-five-dollar dress. We’d been happy with that. We’d been happy, period. But times were different now, I reminded myself. And this was my granddaughter, my only granddaughter, the girl I’d helped raise when Avery and Taylor were “finding themselves” in their thirties, taking long vacations and pursuing their passions while I babysat and made meals and read bedtime stories.
I looked at the brochure again, at the fairy-tale venue, at the promise of a perfect day. “All right,” I heard myself say. “I’ll help.”
The relief that flooded both their faces was palpable and immediate. “Oh, Mom,” Avery said, standing up to hug me tightly. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Sophie’s going to be thrilled.”
“You’re the best, Mama Amelia,” Taylor said, and for a moment, her smile seemed almost genuine.
“I’ll need to see all the contracts before I sign anything,” I said, the business side of me kicking in despite the emotional weight of the moment. “And I want to meet with the vendors myself.”
“Of course,” Avery agreed quickly, eagerly. “We’ll send you everything. You can review it all.” He paused. “You’re really saving us, Mom. We couldn’t do this without you.”
Over the next six months, my life revolved around Sophie’s wedding, though I saw precious little of Sophie herself. She was always busy with finals, then her summer internship, then thesis preparation. But Avery and Taylor came by my apartment twice a week, regular as clockwork, bringing contracts and vendor information. They’d sit on my velvet couch, drink the coffee I made, eat the cookies I baked, and we’d go over the details.
I signed for the venue: $35,000 from my savings account. I signed for the catering: $28,000. I signed for Sophie’s dress: $12,000. When I asked if I could come with her to the fitting, Taylor explained that Sophie had already been and they’d wanted to keep it as a mother-daughter moment, just the two of them. The words stung, but I smiled and said I understood.