Chapter 4: Four Hundred Guests

Annette's green dress hung loose at the waist, so she pinned it with two safety pins from her sewing box.

"Nobody will see them," she said. "They'll be looking at your face."

I looked like I had been crying for two hours, because I had.

I put on lipstick anyway and let her drive me back to the ridge.

The lodge glowed at the top of the road, every window lit gold.

I could hear the band from the parking lot.

At the door, a young man with a clipboard looked at my face and went pale.

"Ms. Penland," he said. "I'm sorry, I don't know if I'm supposed to..."

"I paid for the room," I said. "You can check the contract."

He stepped aside.

The ballroom held four hundred people at round tables with white linen and low candles.

I saw the board members at the front, easy to pick out by their gray suits.

I saw the contractors and the bankers and the church ladies Dalton's mother collected.

Then the conversations around me stopped, one table at a time, as people noticed me.

Dalton sat at the head table with his father on one side of him.

On the other side sat Stephanie, still in the white dress, with her fork halfway to her mouth.

At the end of the table, with a plate of bread in front of her, sat Melanie.

She saw me first.

She put down her bread and sat very straight.

Dalton's father had just stood up at the microphone with a glass in his hand.

"...and so it gives me great pride," he was saying, "to tell you tonight that a man I..."

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