Chapter 20: The Gala

The gala was in the same ballroom as my wedding, and the band was playing the same song.

Four hundred guests sat at round tables under the chandeliers.

Ansel sat beside me in his tuxedo with the old bag under his chair and his phone face up on the tablecloth.

I had made him put it there, so everyone could see he wasn't touching it.

Barrett took the stage in a white dinner jacket.

"Friends," he said, and the room settled. "Fifty years of Thackeray and Collier."

"Fifty years of friendship. Of family. Of showing up when called."

At my elbow, my grandmother muttered, "He'll go on a while."

Barrett told a story about his father, and one about a yacht, and one about a toast he had once given.

At the second glass of champagne, Margaret stood and took the microphone from the stand.

"Before I forget," she said. "My granddaughter has a request."

I stood.

The room was very bright, and I could feel every face in it.

"My husband runs a free night clinic on Fourth Street," I said. "It sees two hundred people a week."

"It needs thirty-one thousand dollars a month, and I'm asking for it."

My voice shook, so I used it anyway.

"I'm asking again. Thirty-one thousand a month, for a year. Please."

Margaret lifted her cane.

"Yes," she said, into the microphone.

The ballroom came up out of its chairs.

I sat down hard, and Ansel took my hand under the cloth.

Up on the stage, Barrett watched the applause go to somebody else.

His grin stayed where it was, but his eyes went flat.

He took the microphone back.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Husband Can Hear Every Unspoken Thought Of Mine from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.