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173

[The next weekend. Canada, Ontario, Pickering.]

It's the second wedding party of my mother and her now-husband, and this party promises to be way bigger and way more stressful than the first. We're standing in a huge garden (It's actually more of a park), and we've decided to keep an eye on the guests who are arriving. The sun is shining, bathing everything in a warm, soft light. The fabric of the cream-colored pavilions stirs gently in the breeze, while the laughter of the first guests drifts over from the afternoon buffet, already bustling with people.
I never knew that my mum had so many friends, but apparently over the last years living in Canada and especially over the last months staying in Pickering, she's become quite popular. Also, many of the guests are related in any kind with Gerald.

"He had to invite his ten cousins because they would never forgive him if he hadn't, "my mum says after greeting a white-haired couple that shook Mums hand twice. "They're kind of resentful when it comes to things like that."

We're checking the guest-list, and apparently I fail to understand the importance of inviting every third and fourth cousin from Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan. "Who is this Mary Lebon? Is she French? I didn't know Gerald had French roots."

"He hasn't," my mum chuckles. "That's actually a friend of mine."

"You've never mentioned her. Where do you know her from?"

"Somewhere from," Mum answers indifferently. Then, she adds: "Yoga-class."

"Since when do you do yoga-class?" I ask curiously.

My mum just shrugs. "Since then."

Ah. Right. Before I can continue asking, she points to the next names on the list. "Have those two already arrived?"

"Where should I know that from?! I have no idea whether anyone of those people is already here."

"But you marked the last three people as arrived!" Mum looks at me resentfully.

"They all smiled at me and told me their name and I decided that no one would actually come to a wedding if they wouldn't be invited. Or so."

For a second, my mum looks at me dismayed, then she shakes her head, and we both giggle.

We continue checking the list until we arrive at the very (long) end of it. "What about the two great-great-grand-nannys? I mean – what is that at least?!" I stare at the list of names, and my mum chuckles. "I have no idea."

"So they could be paparazzi, and nobody would know?"

"Of course not. Darling, Gerald's family has no paparazzi under them. They're all accomplished lawyers or working in economy. In fact, half of his family studied law." My mum looks at the list with interest.

"Are you sure? What about these great-great-grand-nannies?"

"I'll ask him. I just have to text someone, just a moment." Mum leans over her smartphone, looking concentrated.

"What are you going to ask me, darling?" Gerald appears in the room, still looking a bit tired from the first wedding party.

"Oh, hey, honey. How are you?" My mum smiles at her husband, then she frowns. "You'd bow your tie wrong." She stands up and puts it right.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Gerald kisses her cheek. "I wouldn't know what to do without you."

"You'd be fine," Mum teases, but she looks incredibly happy. They both do.

I can't but smile, looking at the both of them. It's so nice to see my mother glowing.

"So ... We've been discussing the nannies on the guest list," Mum says, pointing over her shoulder to the list on the table beside me. "We have absolutely no idea who or what they are."

My mum's new husband takes her hand and a few steps to the table to get a better look at the list. He needs a few seconds, then he laughs. "Ah yeah. These are the nannies my mum had when she was younger. Nice old ladies."

"But why are they on the list?" My mum and I both look at him, questioning.

Gerald sighs. "Do you know about these parties where young people post stuff on Facebook or similar platforms, and it spirals out of control?"

Mum and I both nod.

"Well. My mother had many nannies when she was young, so I thought it would be better to invite just the two of them until every nanny any of my relatives ever had would want to come to our wedding party."

My mum and I stare at him.

He replies our gaze. "What?"

"I don't get it. I don't see any logic," I answer.

Mum frowns too and eyes the list. Then, she laughs. "Well, if the party tonight gets out of control, we'll have at least some nannies to deal with it."

"They're old," Gerald hesitates. "I don't know if they can even still hold a cup of tea."