And she hugs me back, just as the elevator doors open and we step out into the biggest event I’ve attended in a long while. There are ice sculptures and mountains of food, the glint of jewels. A small orchestra pumps out classy, classical music and two waiters with full drinks trays descend upon us. Dee takes sparkling water and I take champagne. I need it. Socializing scares me. It was never easy for me, even with Millie right beside me, even with Dee here now – I was always better at one on one, and even then, the patients did most of the talking – but I know how to be polite. I scan the room for Bettina and other friends and acquaintances I haven’t seen in years.
Is that a flash of emerald green? For a moment I think I recognise my neighbor, Lucy, in Jill’s gown, the one I spilled coffee on, but the room is surging with gowns of every color, human flowers in a forest of black suits. There’s a lot of small talk. Old friends exclaim over how beautiful Dee is as a grown up. They ask her about her husband and children and career. There are lots of “I remember when” and “looking after your father” comments, and nods of approval, as if I’m a wayward toddler.
Bettina appears at my other side, regal in a silver gown. This is her night.
“Now, how are you, Dirk?” she asks, and leans in close in a whoosh of expensive perfume, her fingers intimate on the inside of my wrist. Did she and Dee set us up? She’s never been my type – admirable, of course, but I was never attracted to her.
“Very well, thank you, Bettina. Magnificent crowd you have here. Excellent initiative. You look ...” – what was the right word? She is a widow. This is all about Raymond, too. “What a wonderful initiative. Stunning.”
“Thank you, Dirk. There’ll be positions on the Board, if you’re interested.”
“Kind of you to think of me. Feel free to send me details.”
And she’s gone, greeting others. I breathe more easily.
“Dad! This is brilliant,” says Dee. “It’s the ‘who’s who’ of the healthcare and fitness industry. There’s Grant, from Built, and Muraya. Awesome! I heard her speak at the CrossFit conference. I’ll introduce you.”
“I’m fine, thanks, Dee. You go mingle. Don’t worry about me.”
I grab another champagne flute and wander towards the food table. I’m halfway there when everything changes.
Chapter 24
Lucy
I’m so glad to be here, at the ball, after all. For a while, after that awful interview, I wanted to throw the invitation in the trash, worried people would recognize me and judge me. But why should I hide out? It’s Violetta who should be ashamed of herself. Not me.
My new gown needs an outing. It’s a year to the day since I found Bart in our bed with his secretary – such a cliche – and high time for our divorce settlement to be finalized. A cheery prospect. Do I want to remember this anniversary? No. But it’s there, seared into my psyche – the ugliest of scars.
I hate feeling sorry for myself, and this glittering ball is the perfect place to forget my troubles.
There are couples everywhere, dressed in their best – friends greeting each other, introductions left, right and centre. A few lovely people admire my gown, some with smiles, a couple with scowls, their noses in the air, and several with actual compliments. I tell them I found it at Jill’s Frocks and Fancies where I picked up the flyer about this ball, and I point at the matching earrings, swinging and shining just at the edge of my vision. I’ll admit it. I feel beautiful. Knowing my daughter wants to see me again has me floating five inches off the floor. Life has never been more beautiful; whatever it is she wants of me.
I circulate, wondering if I’ll recognise anyone, wondering if people will stare at me. This time I’ve done my hair and face with total care. I love this venue, the old Town Hall – so full of memories.
As the elevator doors open and another elegant couple emerges, I’m startled to recognize Dirk, his arm around a truly beautiful young woman, luminous in a blue sheath dress. Of course. Who was I to imagine Dirk would have any interest in me, someone closer to his own age? Older men have it so easy; distinguished until they die, especially if someone faithfully cares for them and they have a small fortune. Older women? We’re obsolete. Dirk the Doc could have any woman in this room. And me? I can admit it. I’m only interested in Dirk. We haven’t had a chance to speak since that horrendous interview. Dirk, shyer than he realizes. There’s something so appealing about him, a generosity he doesn’t even notice, and an honesty. Lovely manners. No wonder his children want to spend time with him. They share a genuine bereavement. That Millie must have been a saint. Even I miss her, and I never even met her.
