Concierge Marie Quotes

I watch myself in the mirrored walls, veiled, slide down to sit on the floor and dial the reception planner. “Checking to make sure you’ve arranged a place card and seat for Simone.” “Yes,” she says. “I’ve put her with the table you’ve labeled ‘one-offs.’” “Perfect.” I hang up. The doors slide open. The concierge’s voice trails me out of the elevator. “I’ve heard it’s good luck to say a rosary on the morning of your wedding. I have one at my desk if you…” Minutes down the tree-lined road, the groom is being mimosa-toasted in his aunt Henshaw’s home. The cake is in the shape of the lake. In the morning we’ll return to the city. Alone in the room, I switch the channel to a newscast and slide under the folded coverlet. From the shelf of sleep, I hear local news stories. Henrietta has opened a store during an unfriendly economic climate. Despite everyone’s predictions, she is doing well. In global news, in towns around the world, people prepare for different holidays amid varied architecture.

There she is,” my mother says. “What is she doing? Doesn’t she know she’s late? That everyone is already seated and waiting for her to arrive? Is she even dressed? Is this what she’s going to wear? Didn’t we agree on the green?” This is the first time I’ve seen her since I was her. My stepfather dodders behind, posture arranged in its familiar apologies-in-advance. The concierge and I are still blinking in the pleasant afterthought of her daughter, an angel despite it all. I say, “Are we talking to me?