Chapter 8: Brunch

The Meadowbrook Club served brunch on Sundays, and my father's old friends ate it in groups of six with their coats on the chairs.

Reese had bought the Delancey rail yard on Tuesday, and I had been smiling about it since Wednesday.

I had kept that ground off my list for a reason, and she had walked straight into it.

So today I would let her enjoy it.

The woman who had run the club's charity board for thirty years invited us to her table.

She wore pearls and a hat.

She saw everything and she repeated all of it.

"Newlyweds," she said, and kissed the air near my cheek. "Both pairs. How lucky you are, Marshall."

My father smiled thinly.

He had not spoken to me since the lawyer's office, and he addressed Giles for the whole meal.

Reese was in cream again, with Wayne at her side and his hair combed flat.

He smiled at every old woman at the table, and every old woman smiled back.

I sat across from them with Giles at my elbow.

His arm lay along the back of my chair.

He hadn't touched me since my elbow outside the lawyer's office, and he hadn't needed to.

I felt him there the whole hour.

"Hallie, dear," the charity chair said, buttering a roll. "I hear you bought the old bait lot by the water."

"I did."

"What do you mean to do with it?"

"I haven't decided."

"A little hotel, perhaps. Your father is so good at hotels."

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