Pamela twirled around in her gown, letting her mother see the full effect of the swirling skirt, with the veil floating in the air around her head. “Well? What do you think, Mom?”

Maribel sighed. “Honey, even if you weren’t my daughter, I’d think you were the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen! And the fact that you are wearing a dress that I designed just makes it that much more of a special thrill for me. You are so gorgeous!”

Maribel moved closer to hug her daughter, and they both smiled as she aimed a gentle kiss at Pamela’s cheek, but stopped just short of making contact. That way there was no danger of smearing the makeup which had been so painstakingly applied that morning.

Pamela giggled. “Not like you are prejudiced or anything, right Mom?”

Maribel shook her head firmly. “No. You are breath-taking my dear, and the dress is divine.”

Pamela frowned at her mother while she looked into the mirror and met her eye in its reflection. “I still think the dress should have been more of a cream color, though. I mean, it’s too--too white. It’s not like I haven’t been living with my intended for the past two months now. We certainly aren’t angels deserving of pure white.”

Her mother raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Pam, dear. No one is virginal on their wedding day anymore. At least they shouldn’t be. Why even back when I married your father, I wanted to try him out before we got married. And he felt the same way.”

Pamela giggled at her mother’s easy admitting of something she had denied to her daughter for years. “That’s not what you used to say.”

Maribel rolled her eyes. “But that was when you were a teenager, and way too young to be engaging in sexual intercourse with anyone. Now you are an adult, and so is your groom.” She moved closer to smooth out a fold, to pat the skirt back into the perfect arrangement that only she could see. “Besides, a cream color would not have been so spectacular with your skin tone. It's perfectly set off by the stark white of the dress. That’s the effect I was aiming for. Heavens, girl, I could lie in a tanning booth for twelve-hours-a-day for a week, and still not have the lovely color to my skin that you have. And you have beautiful curls, and those gorgeous soft brown eyes. Donald is such a lucky man.”

Pamela made a face at herself in the full-length mirror while she smoothed down imaginary wrinkles in the dress. “I hope he stops texting and taking calls from his office long enough to notice that!”

Maribel raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Pamela shook her head, making her curls bounce. “Mom, you know it’s true. I can’t ever get him to take his damn blue-tooth out of his ear. That phone of his is always taking his attention away from me.”

Maribel shook her head. “Now, honey.” She switched to her mother-lecture voice. “You know how close he is to making full partner in his firm. He’s thirty-five and not getting any younger. But he’s been doing so well, that he’s almost there. Once that gets offered, you two won’t have to ever worry about your finances again.”

Pamela turned to regard her mother soberly. “But will I ever be able to get his undivided attention? Ever? Mom, he even keeps the damned thing on the nightstand next to the bed! If it beeps at him while we are making love, he tries to hide it, but he looks at it, to see how urgent it is. For crying out loud, even while he is supposed to be thinking only of me, he’s worrying about his damn job.”

Maribel shook her head again. “Pamela, that’s what it’s like being married to a driven, career man. Your father was like that in his younger days. Many’s the times he missed dinner--or canceled our dates, because he had to stay in the office to deal with clients. Your father was the first Black lawyer to make full partner in his firm. You’d better believe that if he'd had a portable mini-computer back then, he’d have had it on even while we were in bed. And I would have supported him doing it. It’s a cut-throat world out there. You need to grab every advantage that you can, if you want to succeed and get ahead.”

Pamela sighed heavily. “I guess so. But I just wish that I could feel like I’m as important to him as his job is.”

 Maribel lit a cigarette, looking around for an ashtray. When she didn’t see one, she pulled a tiny gold box out of her purse and opened it up. There was a small holder for her to rest her cigarette on, while she poured herself another glass of champagne out of the open bottle.

“Pamela, you are important to him. Every partner needs to have a wife. You will be expected to help him to entertain his clients, and to go with him to company functions. There’s so much to do once he makes full-partner, that he won’t be able to keep up with everything without your help. So you will know just how important you are to him then. You’ll see.”

Pamela made another face at her mother, before drinking the rest of her glass of champagne in rapid gulps. She belched in a most unladylike manner, shooting a guilty look at her mother as she poured herself another glass also.

Maribel glared at her. “Was that really necessary?”