Chapter 6: The Luncheon

Silvan came upstairs on Friday morning with an invitation in his hand.

It was cream card, embossed in silver: the Lila Sanborn Foundation for Children, Spring Luncheon, one o'clock at the Shoreline Club.

"I'm on the honorary board," he said. "Lila's brother gets a seat whether Adelaide likes it or not. I can bring a guest."

"You want to bring me."

"I want to find out where Poppy is. Adelaide never skips this luncheon, and she never leaves Poppy out of it."

"She'll have me thrown out."

"Not in front of two hundred donors."

I looked at the invitation, and then at the sweatshirt I had worn for five days.

"I have nothing to wear."

"There's a consignment shop on Main Street," Silvan said. "I already paid for a dress. It's in the truck."

"I'll pay you back."

"I know."

The dress was navy, plain and fitted, and it fit.

I looked at myself in his bathroom mirror, and for the first time in a week I looked like somebody who could walk into a room.

The Shoreline Club's ballroom was full of round tables and silver centerpieces, and women in good suits.

Adelaide stood at the head table, in pale blue, greeting people with both hands.

Poppy sat beside her in a green velvet dress, with her hair braided and her hands folded in her lap.

She sat very still.

I stopped just inside the doors.

Silvan put his hand at the small of my back, lightly.

"Wait," he said.

"I can't."

"Wait for her to see you. Don't go to her."

The lunch went on through the soup and the salad.

Then Adelaide rose, tapped her glass, and the room went quiet.

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