The mother-in-law

You snap shut your makeup case and drop it into your bag. A glance in the mirror shows your face is fully repaired and ready to face a busy afternoon, the day before your son's wedding. You look over at the young man on your leather office couch. He's lying back, dazed and spent, from your little noon "snack". You give him a little smile and motion for him to put himself together. He fumbles with his clothes and tries to make himself presentable. A promising young talent, this one. You think you'll be able to get him some good parts.

It might be a little unorthodox for the mother of the groom to be setting up for the wedding, but so be it. The mother of the bride would be hopeless. Hopeless. They'd all be singing naked around a campfire and jumping over a broom. Completely unsuitable for your son, your family, and your good name.

You check your Day-Timer for the agenda. On the list of errands for the day before the wedding are a visit to the florist to check on the arrangements, the caterer for the reception meal, and a final walk-through of the church hall where the wedding would be held.

It still galls you that you couldn't have the wedding in the chapel proper, but Alex's little dove "didn't have time" to enroll in your church and take instruction, and all your connections couldn't convince the dean. You hope she'll be more a little more tractable as part of the family.