“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

hum, but the social landscape of our lives had been permanently terraformed.

Three months post-inferno, we found ourselves ascending the marble steps of the Cleveland Museum of Art for the Wilson Family Foundation’s annual philanthropic gala.

Historically, this event was Margaret’s Roman Coliseum. She dictated the seating charts to ensure maximum social continue reading …