Chapter 20: The Second Letter

The dealer group's dinner was held every October in the ballroom of the big downtown hotel.

I had gone to it for thirty years in a navy dress, three steps behind Mark.

This time I wore my good linen jacket and my mother's garnet pin.

Sophie walked beside me in a black coat with her chin up.

She had left the baby with Evan and Tom, a bottle and four pages of instructions.

"Ready?" I said at the ballroom doors.

"No."

"Good. Neither am I."

We went in.

Round tables, white cloths, a screen with a logo on it, and two hundred people in dark suits holding drinks.

Mark stood at the head table with a glass of wine.

Around him stood the company's owner, two vice presidents and their wives.

He was talking with his hand on his chest.

I could hear him from the doors.

"...every day is different. Some days she knows me, and some days she doesn't."

One of the wives was dabbing at her eyes.

Sophie made a sound beside me.

"He's doing it right now," she whispered. "To them."

"Yes."

"Mom, he's using you."

"Let's go and say hello."

We crossed the ballroom, and heads turned as we went.

I saw the owner's wife glance up and see me.

I saw her mouth form a small, startled O.

"Helen," Mark said.

He put down his glass.

He had a warm, rueful smile ready, the one he used on clients, and it did not reach his eyes.