Page 61 of Worth the Wait
“Some events feel exactly like that. You’re managing dozens of moving parts, hundreds of people, million-dollar budgets, all while ensuring that the final experience feels effortless and magical.” Lianne’s passion for her work shows in the way her entire demeanor becomes more animated. “The clients should never see the complexity behind what they’re experiencing.”
“Like conducting an orchestra,” my mother says quietly. “All the individual musicians, different instruments, complex music, but the audience only hears the harmony.”
“That’s a perfect analogy,” Lianne says, grinning. “I’m borrowing that for client presentations.”
It’s the first moment of genuine connection between them, and my mother leans forward slightly, her questions becoming more engaged rather than merely polite.
The conversation shifts to family topics—Alessandra’s upcoming preschool graduation, Alessandro’s latest architectural project, Sophia’s work with environmental nonprofits. Lianne listens with the kind of engaged attention that makes people feel valued, asking thoughtful questions that demonstrate genuine interest rather than polite small talk.
As the evening winds down, Sophia pulls me aside while the adults discuss coffee preferences and Alessandro helps Alessandra choose a cookie from the dessert tray.
“I like her,” she says quietly. “She’s different from four years ago—more confident, more established in who she is. But the kindness is the same. The way she pays attention to people.”
“You remember her well from your wedding.”
“I remember thinking she was perfect for you, and being disappointed when things didn’t work out.” Sophia glances toward the living room where Lianne is discussing orchid care with our mother. “I’m glad you found your way back to each other.”
“So am I. Though I nearly screwed it up again.”
“But you didn’t. And this time, you’re both old enough to fight for what matters.”
When we rejoin the others, I find my mother and Lianne in what appears to be a detailed discussion about sustainable event practices and vendor relationships that support local businesses.
“Lianne was telling me about some innovative approaches to reducing waste at large celebrations,” my mother says as we approach. “The environmental impact of events is something I’d never really considered.”
“It’s becoming increasingly important to clients, especially younger ones. They want celebrations that reflect their values, not just their budgets.”
“That’s very thoughtful. And practical from a business perspective.”
The approval in my mother’s voice is subtle but unmistakable. Lianne has passed some internal test, demonstrated that her business philosophy aligns with values my mother respects.
As we prepare to leave, my parents walk us to the door with the kind of gracious warmth that suggests the evening exceeded their expectations.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner,” Lianne says. “I enjoyed meeting your family, and I hope we’ll see each other again soon.”
“I hope so too,” my mother replies, and I can hear genuine sentiment rather than mere politeness. “Cameron, bring Lianne to the museum fundraiser next month. I think she’d enjoy the exhibition, and it would be nice to introduce her to some of the other board members.”
The invitation is casual, almost an afterthought, but it represents everything I’d hoped for—inclusion in family social obligations, introduction to their broader social circle, acceptance as part of my future rather than a temporary complication.
“We’d love to attend,” I say, squeezing Lianne’s hand.
In the car driving back to her townhouse, Lianne is quiet for several minutes, processing what just happened.
“That went better than expected,” she says finally.
“They love you. Especially Alessandra—she’s going to be asking when you’re coming back to visit.”
“Your parents were very gracious. Your father’s easier to talk to than I expected, and your mother... she’s formidable, but I can see why you respect her opinions.”
“She invited you to the museum fundraiser. That’s her way of saying you’re officially part of the family social obligations.”
Lianne turns to look at me, something vulnerable in her expression. “Is that what this was? A test I had to pass?”
“It was me showing my family that you’re part of my life now, permanently and publicly. That they can welcome you gracefully or explain to their friends why their son’s girlfriend isn’t at family events.”
“And if they hadn’t welcomed me gracefully?”
“Then we would have built our own traditions. But I’m glad we don’t have to.”
