My mother, Diane, smiled tightly. She wore a floral dress that I recognized from at least three other family events, her blonde hair styled in the same way she had worn it for the past decade. My father, Gregory, stood beside her in a suit that pulled slightly across his shoulders, nodding along to whatever story my uncle was telling.
“We should take some photos,” my mother suggested, already pulling out her phone. “The light is perfect right now.”
We arranged ourselves in various configurations while other families did the same around us. My grandmother insisted on several shots of just the two of us, her arm around my waist, both of us grinning at the camera.
“Now,” she said once my mother had finally declared herself satisfied with the photography session. “I want to hear all about your plans. Where are you thinking of working? What are you going to do with all that business knowledge?”
I launched into the explanation I had practiced about how I was applying to positions in hospitality management, how I had already secured three interviews for the following week, how I was hoping to work my way up through a hotel chain and eventually into regional management. My grandmother listened intently, asking questions about markets and growth potential, nodding approvingly at my answers. She had always taken my career aspirations seriously, even when I was ten years old and wanted to run a dog grooming business.
“And financially,” she asked, her pale blue eyes studying my face. “How are you managing? I know these first few months after graduation can be tricky. Lots of expenses, waiting for that first real paycheck.”
