Trace spewed his beer. Lucius shifted in his seat.
“Wait! You gotta open the third bag,” Salcedo said.
I was afraid of where the night might go from the vibrator. “I’m feeling pretty gifted out. I mean, I’m grateful, but—”
She smiled. “Good things come in threes.”
“That’s why I named this place Finnegan’s,” Havisham said.
Finnegan’s reminded me of Malone, too. He was the one who’d explained a mulligan for a mulligan to me. So cruel to give me condoms and to remind me of him.
Of course, everything reminded me of Malone.
“Fine,” I said tentatively. “Lord, preserve me from anything else embarrassing.”
I fished through tissue paper in the third bag and pulled out a coin purse in a fuchsia paisley print. The pattern was definitely not my style, but I settled for a different observation instead. “What the heck is small enough to fit in here?”
“That’s where you can store your fucks since you will no longer have that many to give,” Havisham said. “That’s one bonus of turning forty.”
Nana cracked first, her laughter inspiring everyone else’s. “That’s a good one, Aurelia.”
“Please, call me Havisham.”
“And you can call me Jefferson.”
Oh no. Since meeting Havisham, I’d feared what would happen if these two got together, and now it had. The world would never be the same.
Salcedo cleared her throat. “But that coin purse was also made by Vera Bradley. The founder of that company was over forty when she started the business.”
“Uh-oh. There’s going to be a message to all of this, isn’t there?”
“Very good, Stark! Look at you figuring out that happiness is being a lifelong learner.” Havisham held up the chocolates. “Let these remind you of the famous episode ofI Love Lucywhere Lucy and Ethel eat all the chocolates from the assembly line. Because Lucille Ball didn’t achieve fame until that sitcom.”
“Let me guess ... she was forty?”
“She can be taught!” Havisham then picked up the bottle of champagne from earlier. “The Widow Clicquot may have started her champagne house before she was forty, but she didn’t come up with her revolutionary riddling method, nor the delightful idea of rosé, until she was forty. Or very close to it. Now back to the third bag with you.”
I reached into the bag and came out with a copy ofBeloved.
Salcedo spoke this time. “Toni Morrison was thirty-nine when she published her first book. She was over forty when she won the Pulitzer Prize for this one.”
Next, I pulled out a paintbrush. “I think y’all know I’m not much of an artist.”
“That you know of,” said Nana. “Alma Thomas was sixty-nine when she started painting, and Grandma Moses was seventy-seven.”
“Is this like Mary Poppins’s bag?” I asked as I drew out a pair of black leggings.
“No,” said Havisham. “Stop trying to ruin this poignant moment. Not only are leggings comfortable, but these were designed by Vera Wang. She was over forty when she started her fashion empire.”
Now having to stand again to reach the bottom of the bag, I picked upMastering the Art of French Cooking.
Nana, who could cook well if she wanted to, said, “Julia Child graduated from culinary school when she was thirty-nine and didn’t get her own television show for another ten years. AndMastering the Art of French Cookinglater served as an inspiration for Ina Garten, who didn’t publish her first cookbook until she was fifty.”
I wanted to say something like “The Art of Microwave Cookingwould be more my speed,” but I didn’t. The thoughtfulness behind these gifts touched me in spite of myself.
“Come on, you’re almost finished,” Salcedo said softly.
I looked at these familiar faces. Even Trace leaned forward as if he wanted to know what would come next.
