"Then that's what we'll do."
"You'll get bored by the second house."
"Probably," he said with a laugh. "But maybe not. When you get going, talking about his designs and what they mean to you, it turns it all around. I love hearing you talk about the things that excite you.” He reached over and took my hand, and held it for the rest of the drive.
The limo slowed and turned onto Wall Street. Cipriani glowed ahead of us, the hidden lights sweeping up the Corinthian columns, and it was as beautiful as it was every year.
* * *
The car stopped at the curb. Oscar got out his side, and I reached for my purse, and then his hand was there, holding my door, holding his hand out to help me from the car. Not the driver. Him.
"Thank you, Alan," Oscar said over the roof of the car, and then to me, "Come on. Let's go show you off."
He kept my hand as we went in. He did not disappear into a flurry of handshakes and leave me on the curb. He walked in beside me, and when people came up to him, and they did, right away, he kept me next to him and said, every time, some versionof the same thing: "You know my wife, Ruby. She designed the Ocean City project."
* * *
I found Olivia by the bar within the first twenty minutes, the way I always did.
"There she is." She hugged me, then held me back at arm's length and studied my face. "Okay. Tell me. How are things with you and Oscar? And don't give me the party answer."
"I finally understand what you were talking about last year," I said. "At this exact party. You told me things with you and Adam hit play again after the kids left, and I couldn't imagine it. I thought you were the lucky one and I was just stuck." I shook my head. "I get it now. I'm happy, Liv. Really happy. The kind I didn't think I got to have anymore."
Her eyes softened. "I hoped. I saw him holding your hand walking in." She squeezed my arm. "You know Adam and I had our own rough patch, years back. It got bad for a while." She waved it off before I could ask. "Story for another day. The point is people can come back from a long way off. I'm glad you two did."
"Have you seen Nicole?" I asked. "Or Dustin?"
Olivia glanced around the room. "Not yet. Neither of them." She frowned, then let it go. "It's early. They'll turn up."
We both looked toward the door for a second. Then the crowd shifted and someone called Olivia's name and the moment passed.
* * *
People kept finding me that night. That was the strangest part, the part I was still getting used to.
A woman on the board of an arts foundation took my elbow and told me they were planning a community center, and that they wanted Harding Home on it, but only if I would be the one to design it. She'd seen what I did with the Ocean City carousel. She wanted that, she said, the thing that made a place feel like it belonged to the people in it. I told her to have her people call the office Monday. It still surprised me a little, being asked for by name. For twenty years I had been the owner's wife at these parties. This year I was the architect.
Adam found me near the windows with two glasses of champagne and gave me one.
"They broke ground Tuesday," he said. "Ocean City. Foundations are going in on the first row of houses." He clinked his glass against mine. "The carousel's staying right where it is through the whole build. The town made us promise. Your green goes in around it next spring."
"They started building," I said. It came out quieter than I meant it to.
"You started building." He smiled. "I just carried the folder."
* * *
Later, the band moved into something slow, and Oscar appeared at my side and held out his hand.
"Dance with me."
I let him lead me out. He was a good dancer, always had been, one of the first things I noticed about him twenty-three years ago in a bar that smelled like spilled beer. He put his hand at the small of my back and I felt about twenty-three again myself.
"Have you picked your next project?" Oscar asked.
"I've narrowed it down, but I'm not really sure yet."
"Well, I have no doubt that whichever one you pick, they'll be lucky to have you."
