Chapter 6: The Brunch

My mother called on Friday and said, "Come to brunch on Sunday. Gwen wants to apologize."

I knew it was a trap.

I went anyway, because the ring had come in a small velvet box with my grandmother's handwriting folded inside, and Gwen had the box.

Alistair wanted to drive me to Oak Park.

I told him this one was mine, and I walked up the front steps alone at eleven.

The house smelled of coffee cake and furniture polish, the way it always had.

Five women from my mother's church sat in the living room with plates on their knees.

They all stopped talking when I came in.

"Octavia," my mother said, bright and tight. "Ladies, my elder daughter. She's been through a hard time."

"I've been through a wedding, Mom."

A small, flinching silence.

"She married a stranger last Sunday, ladies," my mother went on in a stage whisper.

"A rich one. Octavia has never been able to wait for anything."

A woman in a lavender cardigan clucked her tongue at me, and I let it go.

"I came for my box," I said. "Grandma's ring box. The velvet one."

"Gwen has it, darling. She's upstairs."

"Then I'll wait."

I sat down on the arm of the couch.

It was the exact spot where I used to do my homework while Gwen got a story.

Gwen came down in a pale pink dress with one hand on her stomach.

She held a tray with a teapot on it.

"Tavi," she said softly, in front of everyone. "I'm so glad you came. I know I hurt you."

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