Chapter 19: The Gala

Frank had bought a suit for the gala, and the sleeves stopped an inch above his wrists.

"It fit in the store," he said in the hotel lobby.

"Dad, it fit in the mirror."

"The tailor said it would settle."

"Suits don't settle."

Eli straightened his father's tie with both hands and found that his own were steady, which surprised him.

He wore a black jacket borrowed from Tom, who was three inches shorter, and a white shirt open at the throat.

He had not rehearsed anything.

He took his father's arm and they walked into the ballroom together.

Three hundred people stood under the chandeliers with glasses in their hands.

Round tables ran down the room toward a stage with a podium on it, and a banner that read St. Brendan's Foundation Dinner.

Conversation did not stop when Eli came in.

It slowed, and then it dropped.

He felt the looks arrive one after another, on his face, then his mouth, then his father's arm in his.

Some of them knew.

A woman in green silk leaned toward her husband and said something behind her hand.

Then she turned and came straight at Eli with a bright, gracious smile.

"Excuse me," she said. "I don't mean to be rude. Aren't you the young man from that video?"

Frank drew a breath.

Eli squeezed his arm.

"Yes," Eli said pleasantly. "I'm Eli Winslow."

"Oh. I see. And you're here with..."

"My father, Frank. And I'm here with Dr. Kelleher."

He let a beat go by.

"My partner."

The woman's smile hung in the air.

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