Great. Exactly what I need.
"They taking bets on how badly Blair's gonna try to bury you?"
"Aunt Rene."
"What? I put five dollars on you making her cry. Seemed optimistic." She pats the chair beside her. "Come sit. Your friend can spare you five minutes."
Tess waves me off. "I'll organize this mess."
I join Rene by the window. Outside, the street's starting to fill with morning traffic. Normal people doing normal things, nobody testifying about their love life to hostile politicians.
"You doing okay, honey?"
The question cracks something. I've been so busy preparing, strategizing, building walls against what's coming. Nobody's asked if I'm actually okay.
"I don't know."
Rene nods like that's the right answer. "Your mama was like this too. Got all twisted up when something mattered, trying to logic her way through feelings."
"What did she do?"
"Usually? Made herself sick." Rene pats my hand. "But sometimes she'd stop fighting so hard and just let herself want something. Those were the good times."
I think about Stone's hands on me last night. The way he looked at me like I was precious and fierce and exactly right. No calculation, no strategy. Just wanting.
"I'm scared I'm going to ruin this."
"The business or the boy?"
"Both. Either." I lean my head on her shoulder. "Everything feels so big right now."
"That's love, baby. Always does." Rene reaches into her paper bag, pulls out something small wrapped in tissue. "Your granddad gave me this before we got married. Said it was for courage."
She unwraps it carefully. A little metal compass, tarnished but still functional. The kind you'd carry hiking.
"We were supposed to elope. Go out west where nobody cared that I was marrying below my station." Rene's voice goes soft with memory. "My parents threatened to disown me. His family said I'd ruin him with my fancy ideas. Whole town had opinions."
"What happened?"
"We went anyway. Took this compass and forty dollars and a truck that barely ran." She turns it over in her palm. "Got lost twice, broke down in Nevada, ate nothing but truck stop coffee for three days. Worst and best decision I ever made."
"But you came back."
"Eventually. After we'd proven we weren't asking permission anymore." She presses the compass into my hand. "Point is, sometimes the risky thing is the right thing. And people who love you will come around or they won't, but that's on them."
The metal is warm from her pocket. The needle spins, settles, points steady north.
"I want you to have it. For Wednesday."
"Aunt Rene, I can't?—"
"You can and you will." She closes my fingers around it. "You're gonna stand up there and tell them true things, and some folks'll hate it. But you'll know which direction you're facing. That matters."
My throat goes tight. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You still gotta actually do it." She hauls herself up with a grunt. "Now I'm going to Gladys's for bridge. You keep feeding yourself and don't let that girl talk you into being boring."
Tess looks up, innocent. "I would never."
