Files of pleasure (an intimate compilation)
"You guys look like you’re at a funeral, not a pre-wedding dinner."
"Just a long night on the beach," Tucker muttered, stabbing a potato. "Too much cigar smoke, I guess."
The conversation drifted into wedding logistics—flowers, the seating chart, the music. Everyone was laughing and pitching in.
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After the main course, my parents stood up.
"I think we’re going to turn in early," Mom said, her voice sounding a bit brittle. "Big day tomorrow."
"Goodnight, kids," Dad added. He didn't look at her as they walked toward the stairs.