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As if on cue, Eve Greenwald sauntered up to the table as the song wound down. She walked with the confidence of someone who thought that everyone's eyes were on her, and she was usually right. Eve commanded attention everywhere she went. Tall and curvy, she maintained her figure with a rigorous fitness routine, and her elegant wardrobe choices accentuated her hard work without being too showy.

"Did y'all miss me?" she asked as she approached the chair next to her husband.

Adam grinned as he jumped to his feet and pulled out the chair for her. "You know I did," he said, gazing at her.

Martha imagined that he used a similar line on his wife when they first met. It was obvious that Oji owed his suave demeanor to years of studying his father.

Eve blushed as she settled into her chair. "Thank you," she replied in an endearing voice. The floral appliqués on her off-the-shoulder dress glistened under the string lights strewn across the pavilion's ceiling.

"Mr. Greenwald, do you think Oji will still look at me like that when we've been together as long as you and Mrs. Greenwald?" Martha asked.

"If he knows what's good for him," Adam replied.

Eve turned toward her husband. "Hush now, Adam. I think it's much too soon for anyone to be talking about marriage," she said as if Martha and Oji weren't sitting across from them.

"If you say so." Adam shrugged his shoulders.

Martha felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart, but she maintained her composure despite the unexpected verbal blow. "We definitely don't want to get ahead of ourselves, but it's nice to have such good role models," she said without missing a beat. Her voice was as sugary as the remnants of sparkling lemonade in the mason jar that sat between her and Oji.

Eve smiled and tilted her head toward Martha. Her gaze was cool, but at least it acknowledged Martha's presence.

"That's a good point, dear. Very good indeed," she said.

Martha briefly made eye contact and smiled softly. Then she turned her attention to the middle of the lake pavilion, where the newlyweds walked to the dance floor.

"Mom, it's getting dark. Don't y'all want to head home?"

Oji suggested pleasantly. There were no signs of the frustration he'd exhibited only a few minutes earlier. "Dad mentioned that he was ready to go."

Oji gently placed his hand at the center of Martha's back, but she didn't turn around. She was too afraid she would cry. How could he be so aloof? After all our discussions about marriage, why doesn't he know that what his mom said hurt my feelings?

"I said that?" Adam asked. "I guess it 'is getting late."

Just as Adam finished speaking, the DJ made an announcement. "Calling all single ladies to the dance floor. It's time for the bouquet toss."

Martha slowly rose from her chair as she contemplated the direction of her next steps. She wanted some time to herself, but she didn't want to disappoint Mary, who had already made it to the dance floor. And she especially didn't want Eve Greenwald to think she'd gotten the best of her.

"Fine. We'll leave after the bouquet toss," Eve mumbled.

* * *

Martha wasn't the type of woman who cared about the wedding tradition of catching the bouquet. She just couldn't get behind a belief that a bunch of flowers landing in her hands would bring her good luck, much less a groom. Martha didn't believe in luck. She believed in blessings. She believed in hard work. She believed in planning and strategy.

But social pressure was a force she could never resist. So as the sun began to set over the lake of the Gardin family estate, she glided toward the faux parquet squares in the center of the lake pavilion.

As Martha stepped onto the dance floor, her eyes fell upon Naomi, who giggled as Nicholas playfully pantomimed from the periphery how the bouquet should be thrown.

Naomi stood in the middle of the dance floor, beaming in a stunning chiffon Hanifa gown. Its structured shoulders, along with the train formed by its dramatic white cape, made her look like both a bride and a superhero. With her hair pulled into a halo of bouncy gray curls, she radiated joy. It was contagious, and it was just what Martha needed.

Martha laughed along with her aunt and tucked her exchange with Eve into the back of her mind. She would process the uncomfortable conversation as soon as she had a moment alone or, better yet, discuss it with Oji as soon as she had a moment alone with him. It wasn't lost on Martha that sometimes men didn't pick up on the same cues that women detected. But she had seen, or possibly caused—depending on whom you asked—enough family drama to know that these sorts of things needed to be nipped in the bud so they wouldn't snowball into years of strife. Oji had some explaining to do. But now was not the time to sort through it. Much unlike the bouquet toss, figuring out how to handle Eve Greenwald and her son was not for public viewing.