Chapter 17: The Toast

Lydia's POV

I wore the green dress again on Friday, because it was the last thing Neil had never seen.

The ring was in the left pocket, with the paper tag still on it.

Hugh walked me to the window table at five to eight, and he did not hold my arm.

He walked a half step behind me, where the room could see I was alone.

The restaurant was full.

Every table I passed held a face I knew.

The six from the charter company sat in a row of two-tops along the glass, in their best clothes, with menus open and not reading them.

The dock manager's wife had a new blue dress on.

At table nine, a gray-haired man in a clean white shirt cut a piece of steak and watched the window table without turning his head.

At table twelve, beside the brushed-steel door, a heavy man in a sport coat sat alone with a glass of water.

He had a badge clipped under his belt, half hidden by the jacket.

He nodded to me, polite and slow.

Gail had already arrived.

She sat at the head in her pearls and a navy dress, with my father-in-law at her right.

Cora sat across from him in black, pale and straight, with both hands in her lap.

She looked at me once and looked away.

Neil came in last.

He wore the same suit he'd had on Monday, and he took the chair beside Cora's without a glance at anyone.

The fifth chair stood at the corner, pulled out, with a full glass of red in front of it.

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