Chapter 7: Forty Guests

"I was looking for stamps," I said.

My voice came out lighter than I felt.

"Simone's shower is on the fourteenth.

"I wanted to mail her a card first."

Colin's eye stayed on my face.

"Stamps are in the kitchen drawer."

"I know. I forgot."

He crossed to the desk, set his gym bag down and touched the lamp base with two fingers.

The tape held.

I watched him check it, and I watched his shoulders come down.

"You got the invitation," he said.

"It was in the mail slot."

"Jean, your dad said to wait for Christmas Eve."

"My dad said?"

He stopped.

I held still and let him hear his own sentence.

"Simone wrote to me herself," I said. "She wants me there. I'm her friend."

"You're not going."

"I am."

He took a step toward me.

I stepped to his left, where he couldn't see, and he turned his whole head to find me.

"Colin," I said. "She's pregnant. She asked me to come. If I stay home, it'll look like I'm hiding."

He thought about that.

I could see him weigh what it would cost him.

"Fine," he said. "Go. I'll be in Portland that day, so I can't drive you."

"That's all right."

"Keep it short."

"I will."

He pulled me in and kissed my forehead.

"Good girl," he said.

I let him.

Then I went up to bed and lay awake, listening to the house.

On the fourteenth I put on a blue dress and a camel coat.

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