Chapter 21: The Foyer

St. Brigid's was full by ten.

The pews on the left held Lorna's side, in black, with the club members in the front rows.

Camille walked in on my arm.

Jasper held her other hand in a black clip-on tie, and Margo walked behind us with the baby's NICU badge still pinned to her coat.

Every head turned.

I felt the whole church take a breath.

Lorna sat in the first pew with a veil pinned to her silver hair.

She saw me and her mouth went thin.

She saw Jasper and she half rose.

"Sit," the uncle said from the aisle, quietly, and took the seat behind her.

She sat.

We took the back pew.

The service lasted forty minutes.

Camille cried through all of it, silently, with her face turned to the window.

Jasper fell asleep against Margo's shoulder.

When the pallbearers carried the coffin out, the crowd moved into the foyer in a slow, murmuring crush.

Two cousins from the Sunday dinner stood by the holy water.

Camille stopped in front of them and tried a smile.

They turned their backs on her, together, and went on talking to each other.

A third woman, older, stopped beside her.

"You let that man pay for your lover's house for five years," she said, loud enough for the line behind her. "Your aunt would have been ashamed."

Camille took it without a word.

Her knuckles were white around the strap of her purse.

She touched my sleeve.

"A minute," she said. "Please. Alone."

I looked at Margo.

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