Chapter 23: Commencement

The Larkin College quad on commencement morning was white tents, folding chairs and four thousand people in their best clothes.

Clara sat in the tenth row of seniors in a rented black gown that smelled of the dry cleaner.

Beth was on her left, already crying and furious about it.

Miles was six rows ahead of her, because Ferris came before Mercer and nothing could be done about the alphabet.

Once she looked up and found him turned in his seat, looking back at her.

He mouthed, "Breathe."

She mouthed back, "I am."

He pointed at her, and then at his own chest, and shrugged as if to say, we made it.

She laughed so loudly that the girl in front of her looked back.

Hannah sat with the families on the right, in a green dress, waving a program.

Next to her was the sheriff from the Rail Bar, in a sport coat, with his big hands folded.

Clara had seen him when she walked in. He had nodded to her, once.

The man from the lender stood alone at the back of the last tent, in a gray suit this time.

He had a manila folder under his arm.

Nobody sat near him.

The dean read the names.

There were four hundred of them. The president spoke, and a student sang, and the sun came out and then went in.

Clara kept scanning the families.

She did not see her father.

She had begun to believe he had stayed away.

The thought left her light and a little sick.

"Miles Alexander Ferris," said the dean, a while later, and the family section roared, because Hannah had stood on her chair.

He crossed the stage with his ears red and shook the president's hand and did not trip.

He looked for her in the crowd, found her, and grinned so openly that she put her face in her hands.

"Beth Anne Garner."

Beth went up, cried on the president, and was gently removed.

Clara stood.

She was the next row. She counted the steps. She tried to remember how to walk.