Melissa chose a coffee shop across town.
She wanted somewhere public.
She also asked that Patricia not come.
Kevin agreed.
I almost didn't.
Part of me wanted to let the entire thing disappear.
The wedding was over.
The veil was repaired.
Patricia had changed.
Why reopen something that had already been painful?
Then I remembered the photograph.
I needed to know.
We arrived ten minutes early.
Melissa was already seated near the window.
She looked older than she had in the wedding photographs.
Her burgundy dress was gone.
She wore jeans and a gray sweater.
When she saw us, she stood.
“Nora?”
“Yes.”
She looked nervous.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
She sat down.
“I don't know where to start.”
Kevin pulled out the photograph.
“Start here.”
Melissa looked at it.
Then closed her eyes.
“I knew this day would come.”
“What happened?”
She looked at me.
“I helped Patricia with the veil.”
“I know.”
“But I didn't know why.”
I waited.
“She told me she wanted to decorate it.”
“With wine corks.”
“Yes.”
“Did you think that was strange?”
Melissa gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
“I thought it was inappropriate.”
“Then why help?”
“Because Patricia was upset.”
“About me?”
“About Kevin.”
That answer sounded familiar.
I nodded.
“She said she was afraid she was losing her son.”
“Yes.”
“What did you think she wanted?”
Melissa hesitated.
“She said she wanted to make a point.”
“What point?”
“That you couldn't control everything.”
I frowned.
“My sobriety?”
Melissa nodded.
“She said you were very strict about alcohol.”
I stared at her.
“I was protecting myself.”
“I know that now.”
“What didn't you know then?”
Melissa looked down.
“I didn't know you were sober.”
The room seemed to go quiet.
“But Patricia knew.”
“Yes.”
“So she didn't tell you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I think she didn't want me to feel sorry for you.”
The sentence hurt.
Kevin's hand tightened around mine.
“What did she tell you?” he asked.
Melissa looked at him.
“She said Nora didn't like drinking, but she was trying to make everyone accommodate her.”
I shook my head.
“I never asked everyone to accommodate me.”
“I know.”
Melissa looked ashamed.
“I know that now.”
“What happened after you tied the corks?”
“I left.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
“Did you enter the bridal suite again?”
Melissa shook her head.
“No.”
I looked at the photograph.
“You were here.”
“Yes.”
“That's you holding the bottle.”
She nodded.
“What was it?”
She reached into her purse.
She pulled out a small folded receipt.
“I kept this.”
Kevin took it.
It was from a pharmacy.
The date was the morning of our wedding.
The item listed was an adhesive remover.
I stared.
“What does this have to do with the veil?”
Melissa looked at me.
“Nothing.”
“Then why keep it?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
She swallowed.
“Patricia had another idea.”
My stomach tightened.
“What idea?”
“She wanted to spill wine on the veil.”
Kevin stood so quickly that his chair scraped the floor.
“What?”
Melissa flinched.
“She wanted to stain it.”
I couldn't speak.
“Why?” Kevin demanded.
Melissa looked at me.
“She said you needed to understand that the wedding wasn't only about you.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“Did she actually do it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I stopped her.”
I stared at Melissa.
She reached for the receipt.
“That adhesive remover was for the cork ribbons.”
“You said you stopped her.”
“I did.”
“How?”
“I told her if she stained the veil, it would never come clean.”
Melissa shook her head.
“She said that was the point.”
I felt sick.
“What happened then?”
“She opened a bottle.”
I remembered the smell.
The wine on the veil.
The corks.
Patricia's explanation.
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“She said she was going to make it look like an accident.”
Melissa nodded.
“I told her no.”
“What did she do?”
“She got angry.”
“At you?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Melissa looked at Kevin.
“I don't want to repeat it.”
“Please.”
She took a breath.
“She said if Nora was going to marry her son, she needed to stop acting like everyone else was dangerous.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The belief underneath everything.
Patricia hadn't been joking.
She had wanted to punish me.
Melissa continued.
“I left the room.”
“And the bottle?”
“Still there.”
“Did Patricia spill it?”
“No.”
“Then why was there wine on the veil?”
Melissa looked confused.
“It wasn't there when I left.”
I opened my eyes.
“What?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“When I left, the veil had corks tied to it, but it was dry.”
Kevin stared at her.
“Then someone else spilled the wine.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
The photograph suddenly mattered again.
Someone had taken it.
Someone had been in that room.
Someone knew what happened.
Melissa reached into her purse again.
She pulled out her phone.
“I saved something else.”
She opened an old message.
It was from Patricia.
The message had been sent the morning of the wedding.
“Bring the red bottle upstairs.”
I read it twice.
Kevin read it.
Melissa said, “I thought it meant wine for the reception.”
“Did you bring it?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
Kevin sat down.
His face had gone pale.
“We need to ask Mom.”
We left the coffee shop.
Patricia was waiting at home when we arrived.
She knew immediately.
“You spoke to Melissa.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“What did she tell you?”
“The truth.”
Patricia sat down.
Kevin stood across from her.
“Did you plan to spill wine on Nora's veil?”
Patricia's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me collapse.
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“I wanted to hurt you.”
Kevin stared at her.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't get to say that and think it's enough.”
She started crying.
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you were taking my place.”
I shook my head.
“I wasn't.”
“I know.”
“Then why punish me?”
“I didn't know how to stop being afraid.”
I looked at her.
“That isn't an excuse.”
“I know.”
Kevin's voice was cold.
“Who spilled the wine?”
Patricia looked away.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I swear.”
I watched her.
She looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Terrified.
“What happened after Melissa left?”
Patricia's hands trembled.
“I stayed in the room.”
“Then?”
“I heard someone outside.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did they come inside?”
She nodded.
“Someone did.”
“Who?”
“I couldn't see.”
“Why not?”
“They closed the door behind them.”
I looked at Kevin.
Patricia continued.
“I heard the bottle break.”
My stomach dropped.
“Break?”
“Yes.”
“Was the veil damaged?”
“Not immediately.”
“Then what?”
“I left.”
“You left?”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
She looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Patricia said something that changed everything.
“There was a note.”
“What note?”
“On the dressing table.”
Kevin stepped closer.
“What did it say?”
Patricia shook her head.
“I don't have it.”
“Where is it?”
“I threw it away.”
“When?”
“The day after the wedding.”
“What did it say?”
She looked at me.
“‘You don't know what she's capable of.’”
I felt the room tilt.
“Who wrote that?”
Patricia shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Kevin stared at his mother.
“You should have told us.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You let Nora believe you did all of it.”
“I did do part of it.”
“But not the wine.”
“No.”
I looked at Patricia.
For the first time, I saw something beyond jealousy.
Fear.
Real fear.
“What were you afraid I would do?”
She shook her head.
“Not you.”
“Then who?”
She looked toward the window.
“I don't know.”
Her voice dropped.
“But whoever came into that room wanted me to believe you were dangerous.”
Kevin and I looked at each other.
The wedding suddenly contained a question none of us had expected.
Who had wanted Patricia to fear me?
And why?
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Person Behind the Missing Bottle Left One Final Clue, Forcing Kevin to Reconsider What He Thought He Knew About His Family
The Veil My Mother Gave Me Was Supposed to Carry One Beautiful Memory Into My Wedding, Until Patricia Turned It Into Something Else
Part 7 of 20
