Chapter 17: Row C

Ebba did my hair at five o'clock, standing behind me at the kitchen table with a comb in her teeth.

"Hold still," she said around it. "You have your grandfather's cowlick."

"I don't have a cowlick."

"You have it tonight."

I was wearing the green dress.

Roan had asked whether I was sure, and I had said it was mine, and Kasper did not get to keep a color.

Ebba's hands were fast and certain, and she pinned each strand with a grim little click.

On the table sat the shoebox, the napkin in its frame, Little Women with the receipt inside it, and Siri's flash drives in a sandwich bag.

"Gram. Who are the women in the hall?"

"Bridge club."

I turned around.

Six women in good coats stood in Ebba's front hall holding tote bags, and one of them held a casserole.

"They have tickets," Ebba said. "Row C. I bought twelve."

"Twelve?"

"I told them there was going to be a scene. The loudest one wants to throw something, and I told her to wait for my signal."

"What's the signal?"

"I'll cough."

The door opened and Roan came in from the porch with snow in his hair.

He saw the bridge club and stopped.

"Evening, ladies."

"This is the doctor," Ebba said.

"We've heard," said the loudest one, and looked him up and down with open approval.

I felt my face go warm.

"Third row," Roan told me quietly. "Aisle seat. I'll be where you can see me."

"You'll be where Kasper can see you."

"That's the other reason."

He put a hand against my cheek, quick, in front of everyone, and took it away.

"Eat something," he said, and handed me a granola bar from his pocket.

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