A nervous murmur moved through the guests.
Donna gave a little laugh.
“Well,” she said, almost proudly, “that’s the tradition.”
Mia nodded.
“I know.”
She paused.
“But I think you’re confused.”
Several people turned toward one another.
Donna frowned.
“Excuse me?”
Mia swallowed.
“The flowers aren’t what make somebody want to marry you.”
There was a sound from one of the tables.
A muffled snort.
Then another.
Donna’s face tightened.
Mia continued.
“I think being kind matters more.”
A pair of hands began clapping near the back.
Slowly.
Three times.
Then they stopped.
Mia looked toward the sound, surprised.
An elderly man at Claire’s father’s table smiled at her.
So Mia kept going.
“I think how you treat people matters more too.”
More applause.
Not loud yet.
But growing.
Donna shifted her weight.
“Mia,” she said sharply, “that’s enough.”
The DJ moved closer to my daughter.
