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"Mother."

"You look like — Ines, he looks like water."

"He has the shoulders for it," said Ines, through a mouthful of pins.

My mother came and stood in front of me and put both hands on my forearms and looked up at my face for a long moment, and it felt — I'll admit it — nice.

"Your grandmother would have loved you in this."

"She'd have said it needed a tie."

"She would have said it wanted a tie." My mother laughed, squeezed my arms, and let go. She wandered over to the window that looks out at the meadow, and sighed. "It's a shame about Esteban and Simona."

"Esteban's all right. He's been discharged. Dad's given him the—"

"No, I know, darling, your father told me. I mean it's a shame they won't be here." She was still looking out the window. "They came to your first wedding. Simona cried during the vows and Esteban wore that awful suit." She laughed. "That terrible brown suit."

"I remember."

"And now they'll miss this one." She turned around. "I'll send something over. Flowers. Or — no, not flowers. Food. Something from the caterer. What do you think?"

"Food," I said. "Food would be right."

"Food," she agreed, satisfied, and went off down the hall calling for my father.

"Turn," said Ines.

I turned.

And I stood on a low round box in several thousand dollars of Japanese hemp silk with my arms out and did the thing I have spent an entire professional life training myself to do, which is notice the item that is not in the file.

Gregory went into the water before he took his jacket off.

My father gave Esteban the week off.

My mother, who has never in her life had a practical thought, was sending food.

And Steven — who had asked me about the fitting, and the seating chart, and whether I thought Zephyr would sign anything before Friday — had not once asked how Esteban was.

Not is he all right or did they keep him. Not what did the doctors say.

He turned off my alarm so that I could sleep, because I'd had a long night.

He never once asked why the night was long.

"Mr. Cauthorne," said Ines. "Hold still, please. You're shaking."

Chapter Fourteen

Gregory

I didn't sleep.

I want to be accurate about that, because I've said it before in this account and I meant it loosely. This time it's a fact. I lay on my back in the guest house of a family that has never once suspected me of anything, replaying the same four seconds of kissing over and over.

Blaine crossed to me.

That's the part I kept coming back to. Not the kiss. The two steps before the kiss. I have thought about that man's mouth a great deal in two years and I’ve never once been surprised by that. What I couldn't get past was that Blaine, who has not in his entire life moved toward anything he hadn't already decided about, took two steps across his parents' gravel and kissed me.