Found A Homeless Billionaire Husband for Christmas novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Eleven Fifty-Nine

The Rose Club rang in the New Year in the same ballroom, under the same four chandeliers.

They'd taken down the white tulle and hung silver balloons in nets from the ceiling, ready to drop.

My mother came anyway.

I hadn't been sure she would.

She came in a gold dress, on Brady's arm, at nine o'clock sharp, with her chin up and her pearls on and a smile that dared every woman in the room.

Most of them looked away.

The retired judge didn't.

He raised his glass to her from his table by the dance floor, very slightly.

Quinton and I sat with Nana at a table near the back.

Nana had insisted on coming.

She wore her good blue dress and a paper crown from somebody's cracker, and she was on her second sherry.

"I want a front seat to the Lord's work," she said.

"It's not the Lord's work, Nana."

"Everything's the Lord's work if you squint."

Quinton was in his thrift suit.

He'd refused the tuxedo, and he'd sent it back to my mother's porch in its garment bag with a note that said "Thank you. It wasn't my size."

At eleven-forty my mother went up to the stage to give the Rose Club toast.

"Friends," she said into the microphone. "What a year."

A few people laughed, uneasily.

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