That's where I was standing. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded us. The sun had come out from behind the clouds this morning, cascading warmth through the glass and filling the room with light. “This place is huge,” I said. Next to me, Anton pursed his lips. “I suppose,” he mused. “Perhaps we'll be able to fit everyone in here. I still think Gotham Hall would be better. It has more capacity.” “I agree,” my mother said. “Absolutely all our friends and acquaintances will be invited. We want to make it the social event of the holiday season, and that means we need the most room possible. Right, Jonathan?” She turned to my father expectantly. My father nodded. His face looked a little gray at the thought of spending all the money he probably didn't even have yet on a wedding. The freeing up of his credit would happen at the end of the month, presumably, but until then he was betting on my mother's infamous inability to make a decision and stick with it. It's why she had at least two hundred pairs of shoes with 'back-ups' in a different color.
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