“Was it something I said?” Chloe said, eyes wide.
He sighed and shook his head. His mother was always making a scene. It was always her with the shrill scream in the fine restaurant; her with the foot stomp in the jewelry store. And just now—her flinging the croquet mallets across the lawn over a little change in dinner plans.
“It’s okay. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said.
“We can do the rehearsal dinner earlier. It’s no big deal.”
“Nonsense, darling. What’s a rehearsal dinner without the bride’s parents?” he wrapped an arm around Chloe’s shoulder and kissed her.
She frowned in the direction of the hotel. “I’m sorry my parents couldn’t come earlier. With Ben in intensive care, they couldn’t—”
“Look at me.”
He brushed her hair back and kissed her brow. “Listen to me. It’s time for my mother to grow up.”