Mother opened the notebook on the kitchen table.
Bea sat down, but I stayed at the counter with the jars. Nate put the box of glasses beside the door and came to stand near her chair.
“The caterer needs the balance,” Mother said. “And the rental company is waiting for the rest before Saturday.”
“I know,” Bea said.
Mother tapped the page with her pencil. She had written the amounts in neat columns. I didn't need to read them to know Bea couldn't pay them instead. The wedding had been made bigger and prettier on the strength of what Mother said she'd give.
“I can pay them,” Mother said. “But I won't pay to be insulted in my own house.”
I turned a jar so the ribbon knot faced away from the wall. My hands were wet, and I wiped them on the cloth beside the sink.
“Mum, if you're not paying the balances, tell me,” Bea said. “Please. Don't make me guess until Saturday.”
Mother crossed her arms.
“I haven't said I won't.”
“You've said it twice now.”
“I've said I won't be insulted while paying for everything.”
I watched Bea turn her ring with her thumb. She usually did that when she was trying not to argue. I had seen it at the shop, when a customer wanted flowers that weren't available and was determined to blame her for the season.
“You offered the money,” she said. “We didn't force you.”
Mother's eyebrows lifted.
“Bea.”
“We couldn't have booked this without you saying you'd cover it.”
“So you admit that you need me.”
“For these bills, yes.”
The answer was so plain that Mother paused.
“I can't cover them,” Bea said. “Nate can't cover all of them either. We planned a wedding we could have with the money you promised.”
Nate nodded. “That's true.”
Mother looked pleased to have both of them saying it. I felt something cold move through my stomach.
“Then perhaps you could remember it when your sister makes a scene.”
I took the cloth off the counter. There was no point drying the jars again, but I wanted something in my hands.
Mother shut the notebook so hard the pencil rolled onto the floor. “I am trying to give you a beautiful day. You could let one thing be pleasant.”
Nate bent to pick up the pencil. He set it beside her hand. She didn't acknowledge him.
Bea pushed her chair away from the table.
“I want the day to be pleasant too. But I can't make Lucy smile for a picture because you're paying the caterer.”
Mother stared at her.
I had wanted to hear that. I felt glad, almost before she'd finished saying it.
“Money isn't everything,” Bea added.
Mother gave a short laugh.
Bea looked down at the ring again. This time she didn't turn it.
“You didn't mind my money when you wanted that flat,” Mother said.
The cloth stopped moving in my hands.
“That was different,” Bea said.
“Was it?”
“You helped me get started. I've paid my own rent for ages.”
“I'm glad to hear it. But you were grateful then. You could remember what we agreed.”
Bea stood completely still.
I looked at her, then at Mother.
“What did you agree?” I asked.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“You just brought it up.”
Mother opened the notebook again without reading it. “I was helping Bea. As I helped you get over an unsuitable boy.”
I set the cloth down.
“You helped with Bea's flat the month after Nate left.”
Neither of them answered.
“What has that money got to do with our summer?” I asked.