The Choices We Made novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: The Garden Club

"I wanted to," Eliza said, the night before. "That's the reason."

"That's a good one," Weston said, and he fell asleep with his face in her hair for the first time in six years.

In the morning, in the back of the car, he leaned toward her ear.

"Mrs. Schermerhorn. You have your hand on my knee."

"I know."

"Terms are terms. You owe me a reason."

The driver stared straight ahead through the windshield.

"You're taking me to my mother-in-law's luncheon," Eliza said. "I'm going to ruin her day. That's the reason."

"I accept it."

His hand covered hers, and he smiled, small and surprised.

The Shoreline Garden Society met on the first Wednesday of the month in a white clubhouse with a green awning.

Constance had chaired it for eleven years.

There were sixty women at round tables with lilies in the middle of each.

Eliza walked in at ten past noon, in a gray dress, with a shoebox under her arm.

Conversation dropped in a ring around her.

Constance sat at the head table in a lavender suit, with the club's president on her left.

"Eliza," she said, and smiled with all her teeth. "This is a private event."

"I know. I'm not staying long."

"Then I'll have someone show you out."

"You can try. First I'd like to read something to your friends."

Eliza set the shoebox on the head table and lifted the lid.

She took out a handful of slips and fanned them across the white cloth.

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