Chapter 24: Her Place at the Table

On Saturday the park was full, and I had brought witnesses.

Philip sat on his bench with the newspaper right side up, which was progress.

Caleb stood behind the hot dog cart in the same cap.

My mother had a folding chair and a thermos.

Beside her, in a camel coat, sat a small woman who had asked me on the phone that morning whether she might come.

Douglas's mother held her handbag in both hands.

She had said exactly one thing to me so far.

"Thank you for letting me stand here."

"Stand anywhere you like," I had said. "Polly will find you."

Polly found her in under a minute, and demanded to know if she was the other grandma.

"I am," said Douglas's mother, and her voice cracked, and Polly took her hand and led her toward the slide.

Douglas was waiting by the swing set in his good coat.

He saw me coming across the grass, and he stood up straight.

"Ivy."

"You came early," I said.

"I've been here since seven. Keeping an eye on the witnesses."

"How many?"

"Six."

"Seven," I said. "The man with the hot dog has been crying since nine."

Douglas laughed, short and helpless.

His hands were shaking.

He pushed them into his pockets.

"I told you I'd decide," I said. "I have."

"Okay."

"Before I say it, I want to say the terms."

"You've always had terms."

"I'm keeping my apartment on Fourth Street for a year. Polly stays at her school. I keep the bakery."

"Yes."

"We eat dinner at the big house once a week, when I say."

"Yes."

"You don't take sides against me in front of my mother."

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