“Are you going to walk down the aisle alone, or will you drag your mother’s urn along?”
Then came the demands.
She stood in our kitchen one Tuesday morning, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes held that familiar fire.
“You’ll wear my wedding dress,” she announced. No question. No warning. Just an order.
I laughed. “You’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking, girl? I’m your father’s wife now. Wearing my dress honors me.”
My stomach dropped. She was four sizes bigger than me. More importantly, I’d rather wear burlap than her dress.
“I already bought my dress, Sandra.”
Her face darkened. “We’ll see about that.”
Two weeks passed in tense silence. Sandra moved through the house like a storm cloud. Dad tried to play peacemaker, but Sandra’s anger filled every room.
I came home that Thursday afternoon with my arms loaded with wedding flowers and table settings. The front door clicked shut behind me. Something felt wrong immediately.
The dining room door stood open. Sunlight streamed through the windows. But something glittered on the hardwood floor. My heart stopped when I saw it.
Crystal shards covered the ground like fallen stars. My mother’s precious glass set lay in ruins. Each piece told a story of violence, hatred, and deliberate destruction.
Sandra stood there holding a broom. Her face showed no shame or regret. Just satisfaction.
“Oh Jen!” she gasped in a theatrical performance. “I’m so clumsy. I knocked over the whole cabinet while looking for something.”
I just stood there, numb, trying to process the extent of her cruelty.
“Accidents happen,” she continued. “I guess some things aren’t meant to last forever.”
I turned and ran. My shoes crunched over the fragments. Each step broke my heart a little more. I couldn’t let her see me cry. I wouldn’t give her that victory.
That night, I called Aunt Marlene through my tears. She was Mom’s sister. She was the only person who’d truly understand what I’d lost.
“Sandra destroyed Mom’s crystal set,” I cried into the phone.
Silence stretched between us. Then Aunt Marlene’s voice came back different.
“Jennifer, honey, I need to tell you something important.”
“What?”
“Last week I was visiting your house. Sandra was on the phone with her friend Nancy. She thought she was alone.” Aunt Marlene paused. “She was planning to destroy those crystals.”
“Planning it?”
“She said, and I quote, ‘If Jennifer wants to honor someone at that wedding, it should be me. Time to get rid of Alice’s precious memories.’”
Rage flooded my veins. This wasn’t an accident. This was murder. Murder of my mother’s memory.
“But Jenny,” Aunt Marlene’s voice softened. “I did something. I bought a cheap crystal set from the thrift store. I switched them out that same day.”
My breath caught. “My… my mother’s crystal set…”
“Your mother’s real crystals are safe in my attic. And I installed a tiny camera in your dining room. We have everything on video. I knew you’d call. I was planning to surprise you with the crystals at your wedding, honey.”
For the first time in weeks, I smiled.
The next morning, Sandra hummed while making coffee. She looked so pleased with herself. She was so confident in her victory.
“How are you holding up, dear?” she asked. Her voice oozed fake concern.
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