Mark's flickered back and forth on the skyline as he looked at the aforementioned Washington Monument, the domed Capitol Building, and Lincoln, perched in his seat across the pool. He could see himself, he supposed, being married in at any of those spots, but even if the wedding weren't to be in January when it would be too cold to do so, he still wouldn't have been stuck on any of them. They were all important to him and his family, but they weren't must haves.
"The ballroom at the Four Seasons was fine," Mark said with a very noncommittal sort of shrug. "I wouldn't mind it, but I'm not completely attached, you know? Also, looking at it, I could tell Secret Service would have a tantrum. Too many ins and outs."
Mark pulled out his wallet before the walked up to the museum doors, flipping around inside quickly for a bill of a large enough sum that he could drop into the donation bin in the front lobby. It was free for everyone to enter what was, essentially, his family photo album, but Mark always liked to honor the suggested donation. "I was here in 1968 when we opened this one. Mom cried on one shoulder, Malcolm spat up on the other. I never wore that jacket again. Have you been in here?"