The Life I Chose novel · Chapter 13 of 24

Chapter 13: The Committee

I read it standing up, in Daniel's T-shirt, by the dying stove.

"She'll do."

Three years ago Marjorie had looked at a report about me and decided I would do.

Like a tablecloth.

Like a caterer who could start on short notice.

The stairs creaked.

Daniel came down with the dark wool blanket around his shoulders and ducked the low beam out of habit.

I held the page out to him.

He read it under the lamp.

His jaw moved once.

"Report attached," he said.

"She had me followed. Before I ever poured her a glass."

"Do you want to burn it or frame it?"

"Neither." I took it back. "I want to read it out loud."

My phone buzzed on the table.

A number I didn't have saved.

"Gala committee lunch tomorrow. Noon. The club on Benefit, the upstairs library. All twelve of them. She chairs it. K."

Daniel read it over my shoulder.

"I'm on a ship at eleven," he said. "Car carrier, out past Brenton Reef."

"I know."

"I can trade the turn."

"Don't you dare," I said. "Bring the ship in. I'll bring Ruthie."

At ten to twelve on Wednesday, Ruthie parked her dented Civic on Benefit Street in a spot that said NO PARKING ANY TIME.

"They'll tow it," I said.

"Let them. It's got eleven bucks of gas in it."

I texted Holt's father from the sidewalk.

"Your wife is at her club. The upstairs library. Come at twelve thirty. Please."

He answered in under a minute.

"I'll be there."

The woman at the front desk knew me.

She'd seen me walk out of this building ten days ago with Marjorie's folder under my arm.

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

We went up the wide staircase past the oil paintings of men who'd owned ships.

The library doors were open.

Twelve women sat around a long table with linen napkins and little cards in front of them.

Seating charts, menus, a fabric swatch in Foundation blue.

Marjorie sat at the head in a grey silk blouse with her reading glasses on.

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