Chapter 4
Story: She Walked Into Her Son's Wedding Bald, Then the Bride Pointed at an Empty Chair
The police arrived seventeen minutes after Nathaniel made the call.
Fen saw them come through the double doors, two officers in dark uniforms with a quiet, practiced efficiency that parted the guests like water. The band had stopped playing. The guests had stopped pretending to make conversation. Everyone was watching now, openly, because there was nothing left to pretend about.
The older officer, a woman with gray-streaked hair and a calm face, walked up to Rosalind first. She spoke to her for a minute, low and respectful, and Rosalind showed her the note and gestured at the clutch. The officer nodded and made a note in a small book.
Petra watched this with a face like stone.
"This is ridiculous," she said. Her voice was pitched low, for Nathaniel only, but the room was so quiet that everyone heard it. "You called the police at your own wedding."
"She was robbed," Nathaniel said. "At the family house. On the morning of our wedding."
"It's a personal matter. It's a family matter. We could have dealt with it privately. You didn't need to bring the police into it. You didn't need to ruin—"
"Did you take my mother's jewelry?"
The question landed like a blow.
Petra's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Don't you dare ask me that," she said, and now her voice was rising, filling the room. "Don't you dare stand there at our wedding and ask me if I stole your mother's jewelry. I have been nothing but good to that woman. I have been patient. I have been kind. I have smiled through every dinner, every holiday, every family gathering where she looked at me like I was something she scraped off her shoe."
"Did you take her jewelry?"
"I didn't take anything."
"Where is your key to the house?"
"I told you—"
"Where is it?"
"My jewelry box. I told you. My jewelry box at home."
"Mm." The older officer had walked over to them, her notebook in her hand. She was calm, unhurried, professional. "Ma'am, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Ma'am, a theft was reported this morning. We're talking to everyone who had access to the residence."
"I had access. I had a key. I never used it."
"When was the last time you were in the house?"
Petra hesitated. The hesitation was a physical thing, a beat of silence that hung in the air. Fen saw it. Rosalind saw it. The guests nearest the head table saw it.
"I don't remember," Petra said.
"You don't remember the last time you were in your future mother-in-law's house?"
"It was months ago. I don't keep track."
"Months ago." The officer made a note. "And your key is in your jewelry box at home."
"Yes."
"Would you be willing to let us take a look?"
"No. I mean—that's not necessary. It's a personal item. It's in my private things."
The officer looked at her, and then at Nathaniel, and then at Rosalind, and Fen watched the calculation pass behind her eyes. A theft. A house with a limited number of keys. A bride who can't remember the last time she was there, and a key she won't produce.
"Ma'am," the officer said, "we're going to need to take a statement from you. And we're going to need to take a look at that key."
"I don't have it with me. I told you. It's at home."
"Then we'll need to retrieve it. Tonight."
Petra's chin lifted. Her smile, the one that had been so bright and practiced, had gone hard and flat.
"Fine," she said. "Fine. Take me home. I'll show you the key. And then we're going to come back here and finish our wedding, because this is absurd, and I've spent a year planning it, and I'm not going to let a jealous old woman and an overeager cop ruin it."
The officer didn't react to the insult. She just nodded and gestured toward the doors. "Whenever you're ready, ma'am."
Petra picked up her champagne glass, the one she had spilled from, and drank the rest in a single long swallow. Then she set it down hard on the table, and the sound was like a period at the end of a sentence.
"Come on," she said to Nathaniel. "Let's get this over with."
Nathaniel didn't move.
"Come on," she said again, and there was an edge in her voice now. "The sooner we do this, the sooner we're back."
"Nathaniel." Rosalind's voice was soft from the aisle. "Go with her. See for yourself. This is your wedding day. You should see it through."
"I'm not leaving you standing here," he said.
"I'll be fine." She looked at the empty chair against the far wall, then back at her son. "I'll be right here."
The officer walked Petra toward the double doors. Petra didn't look back. She walked stiffly, her back straight, her champagne glass left on the table behind her, her overturned chair still lying on the floor where it had crashed when she rose.
Nathaniel followed, one step behind, his hands in his pockets.
Cousin Fen watched them go. She had her phone in her hand again, the recording stopped, the video saved. She looked down at the screen, at the tiny thumbnail of Petra's face mid-laugh, and then she looked at the doors they had just walked through.
She did not put the phone away.
Advertisement
You may also like
She Paid for Five Business-Class Seats to Maui. At the Gate, Her Ticket Was Already in Another Woman's Hand.
"Her seat is confirmed. You can head home." That was the sentence Margaret Ellsworth heard at Gate B12 in Chicago O'Hare, six months after…
A Year After the Divorce, He Mocked Her in the Maternity Wing — Then the Elevator Opened
"Best decision I ever made — leaving you," Derek called out across the maternity wing, loud enough for the whole corridor to hear. Mara…
He Threw Coins at Her Shoes in the Showroom She Secretly Owned
"Three million dollars for this car," Derek said, then reached into his blazer and threw crumpled bills and loose change across the marble floor…
On New Year's Eve She Served Dinner to One Person While Fourteen Guests Watched
"My family is starving! Table's not set!" Vanessa screamed across the kitchen, both palms slamming flat on the island — and Ruth kept eating,…
She Told the Soldier to Leave Her Own Lake House — Then the Humvee Rolled Up
"Pack up and leave, today." Carla jabbed her finger at the driveway glass like she was shooing a stray dog off her porch. Dana…
Five Years After the Divorce, He Walked Up to Her at the Wedding — Then a Little Girl Called Her Mom
"Leaving you was the best decision I ever made," Douglas said, and waited for Mara's face to break. Five years of rehearsal, and he…