Chapter 12: Sleeping Arrangements
If I thought my mother might want to get to work on my wedding as soon as she was settled in, I have another think coming. The problem with my mom is that she doesn’t settle, just flits around like a hummingbird, going here and there and generally doing whatever she can to make me nervous. Though I cleaned before they arrived, she has to finger every book and knickknack, clucking under her breath at dust I know isn’t there. So I hover behind her, moving things back into place after she’s touched them and asking if she doesn’t want to sit down a minute.
“What for?” she counters, straightening a picture frame I’ve set at a rakish angle to give it a contemporary look. “I just sat for the three hours it took to drive up here. Did I tell you the traffic was m
