Chapter 14: The Toast

My father opened the door and left without another word.

The cinnamon rolls stayed on the windowsill until Monday.

On Monday I went into Jude's office and closed the door behind me.

I signed, "Would you come to a party where everyone hates me?"

"What time?" he signed.

On August fifteenth he picked me up at five-thirty in a shirt with a collar.

I had my hair in the braid, the way I always did, so nobody could mistake me for the bride.

There were cars parked all the way down our street in Mt. Lebanon.

A white tent filled the backyard. Round tables. Sixty chairs with bows on them.

The patio lights were on, though it wasn't dark yet.

My mother was at the gate in a blue dress, greeting people by name.

She saw me. Her smile stayed exactly where it was.

Then she saw Jude.

"And who's this?"

"Jude Carrick," he said, and signed it at the same time. "Amy's boss."

"Her boss." She looked him up and down. "How nice of you to take an interest."

My aunts were at a table by the hydrangeas.

They watched me cross the lawn.

Jenna stood under the tent in a short white dress, with her hair curled and her hearing aids showing.

Josh was beside her in a linen shirt, laughing with a group of his fraternity brothers.

He saw me and lifted his glass an inch.

My father was by the grill. He didn't come over.

At seven, my mother tapped a fork on a champagne flute.

"Everyone? Everyone, just for a minute."

The toasts started.

Then my mother took the microphone again.

"And now Amy would like to say something to her sister."

Sixty faces turned to me.

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