Chapter 12: The Eighteenth

Cillian parked the truck two houses down from Joan's and turned off the engine.

I wore the green dress.

Tilly's arrangement sat in my lap, garden roses and white lilac, with the card still pinned on.

"You have the receipt?" he asked.

"In my bag."

"You have your phone, and you can text me one letter."

"R."

"R," he said. "I'll come."

"You said you'd wait here."

"I will. Unless there's an R."

I looked at him for a moment in the dusk.

"You said you had things to tell me."

"After." His hand was on the wheel and his eyes were on the windshield.

"When you've done this. They'll keep one more hour."

I kissed him once, quickly, for no one.

Then I carried the flowers up Joan's front walk.

She opened the door in a dark red dress with her silver hair pinned back.

"Right on time," she said, and kissed my cheek. "The extra place is set. I put it beside mine."

Trevor's aunt and two of his cousins were already at the table.

I set the arrangement in the middle, where everybody could see the card.

Joan read it. She said nothing.

Trevor arrived at half past five with a woman in a blue dress.

He had a hand at the small of her back.

He saw me and stopped in the doorway.

"Eliza," he said. "You came."

"I wouldn't miss it."

"Eliza!" Tilly said. She looked glad. "I was hoping you'd be here. I wanted you to meet everyone."

Trevor's hand tightened on her back.

"Tilly," Joan said, from the head of the table. "Come sit by me, dear."

Dinner took forty minutes.

I watched Trevor cut his chicken into very small pieces and eat none of it.

I watched Tilly laugh at his aunt's story about the dog.

Twice she looked at me, bright and puzzled, waiting for me to say something.

At the end, Joan's cousin brought out the cake.

Trevor stood and tapped his glass.

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