Chapter 31: Worn Once, Loved

The spring Harbor Ball was held in the same ballroom, at the same long table, and I wore a dress I had bought myself.

The dress was green, from a consignment shop on Eastern Avenue, with a tag that said pre-owned, worn once.

My mother had kept Cain on the phone for forty minutes that Sunday, and he had answered every question standing at the sink.

She hung up and told June he could come to Florida in June, if he ate what he was given.

The woman at the register had asked if I loved the dress.

"I do," I said, and paid forty-two dollars in cash.

Cain stood at the foot of the stairs in his black tuxedo and watched me come down.

"You look," he said, and then did not finish.

"Take your time."

"Pre-owned," he said at last.

"Worn once. Loved."

"That's the correct description."

He offered his arm, and I took it, and neither of us felt like performing anything.

The table was set for ten.

One chair at the far end was empty, with a card in front of it that read Dolan Stevedoring.

Dolan had not come.

He had sent his regrets and a check, both late.

The first guest to reach us was a harbor commissioner in a satin cummerbund.

He shook my hand with both of his.

"Ms. Bell," he said. "May I say that you are the luckiest girl in the city?"

I opened my mouth, and Cain did not say a word.

He pulled out my chair, and then waited for me to sit before he sat himself.

"Actually," I said, "I'm told it's the other way around."

The commissioner looked at Cain.

"Mr. Rourke. The luckiest man."

"Yes," said Cain.

"I mean it."

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