11. Zelda
ZELDA
The dress still fits.
I turn sideways in the mirror to make sure. Dark red, a soft waist, enough room under it for the curve that wasn’t there the last time I wore it. I smooth the fabric and turn the other way. There he is again.
“Your first anniversary dinner,” I tell my stomach.
I find the bracelet Jeremiah gave me last year. The clasp take three tries, and by the time I fasten it I am laughing at myself, tongue sticking out, as if that will help.
Downstairs someone laughs too. Candace.
I lower my arm.
I asked whether she was still helping after the card. Jeremiah said there was nothing to worry about. I had wanted to put my head against him and let that be enough.
Instead I asked again. He said she only needed a few practical answers.
The cake is hidden in the pantry. Hedy’s gift is on the hall table, wrapped in paper Jeremiah held while I cut the tape. We did that together. We have done enough small things together this week that I can get dressed for tonight and almost forget what he still hasn’t said.
I pick up the little blue house for the tree.
Halfway downstairs, I hear Candace in the sitting room.
“You’re going to insist? Even after she made such a fuss about the card?”
“If she wants this marriage, she can apologize.”
I stop with one foot on the next stair.
It is Jeremiah’s voice. I know it when he is tired, when he is answering a call he doesn’t want, when he holds me close and says my name. There is nothing strange about it now. He might be telling her what time the guests arrive.
If she wants.
My fingers tighten around the ornament until the edge of its roof hurts.
I wanted the dress to fit. I wanted him to see our son in it. An hour ago I put three candles beside his cake.
Below me, Candace says something too quietly for me to hear.
I bring my feet together on the stair. Then I go down.
“Apologize for what?”
Jeremiah stands beside the mantel with an untouched drink. Candace has another copy of the cream card.
“A clean start,” he says.
“I asked you to stop this.”
“You asked me to deal with it. I’m dealing with it.”
I hold out my hand. Candace gives me the card, careful not to touch my fingers.
The little gold tree is the same. So are the words. I cannot get past the first line. My own name is waiting for me at the bottom.
“I didn’t slap you.”
“We all want to get through tonight,” she says.
“Then go home.”
She looks at Jeremiah.
I wait. He could set down his glass, take her coat from the hook. I would open the door myself. I would thank him when it closed.
“She’s a guest,” he says. “She’s also been helping us.”
“I’m your wife. I’ve asked her to leave.”
“We’re not throwing somebody out before dinner because you don’t like a suggestion.”
I look toward the hall, where her coat hangs beside his. Mine is upstairs. This morning I put it away to make room for our guests.
“It’s a lie and you know it. I’m not reading that.” I fold the card and put it on the mantel.
“You don’t have to decide this second.”
“I have decided.”
I walk into the kitchen. The caterer asks where to put the bread, and I point to the counter. She waits.
“Beside the other basket?”
There is already bread where I’m pointing. I stare at it before I understand.
“The table. Sorry. I meant the table.”
I open the fridge to check the tart, although she has just told me it’s ready. Cold air reaches my face. I stay there until the fridge begins to beep.
The little house is still in my hand.
I put it down and take out my phone.
Can you come early? I may need to leave with you. Please bring your car.
Hedy answers while I’m tying the ornament’s ribbon back into a loop.
Leaving now. Do you want me to come in or wait outside?
Come in. I still want you at dinner.
I read what I wrote. I do want her at dinner. I want to give her the present we chose, and I want Suri to taste the tart I kept telling her about. I made this evening. I cannot bear to go upstairs and hear them enjoy it without me.
At the tree I choose a low branch for the house. Its tiny blue door opens if I lift the latch with a fingernail. Jeremiah and I spent too long in the shop deciding between this one and a church. He said the house looked more like somewhere we would live.
“You found it.”
I let go of the door. He is in the hall.
“I put it out last week.”
“I know.” He comes nearer. “I haven’t forgotten what this night means.”
I want to show him the dress. Just turn a little and wait for him to notice.
“Then let it be ours,” I say. “Call Candace a car. Tell her the speech is canceled.”
He looks toward the sitting room.
“We can discuss it after the guests leave.”
I move the ornament farther back on the branch. It was safe where it was. I need him not to be looking at my face.
The bell rings before I find anything else to say.
Hedy stands on the step holding a bottle of wine. Her eyes go to mine before she says hello.
“You can leave whenever you need,” she tells me as I take her coat.
I nod. She catches my hand and squeezes it, then asks where I want the bottle.
“Kitchen.”
She goes there as if this is an ordinary evening and she knows her way around my house. I follow her for a minute. I want to be near someone who believes me.
Suri arrives with Dax a few minutes later. She smells the food and asks about Jeremiah’s chocolate cake, and I find I can answer her. I can tell her how the bakery nearly gave it to someone else. She laughs and says she would have helped me steal it back.
At the table, Jeremiah draws out my chair.
I sit. He moves the candle nearest me because its flame is blowing toward my sleeve. His knuckles brush my arm, and I have to stop myself catching his hand.
“Better,” he says.
“Thank you.”
Candace offers to explain the evening to one of the guests.
“After dinner, we have cake,” I say, before she can go on. “Then you have to choose an ornament. Hedy gets last choice because she’ll take the best one.”
“I’ll steal it from whoever gets it,” Hedy says.
The guest laughs. Jeremiah smiles at me, and I smile back. For one foolish second I have my anniversary dinner.
Then Candace bends to check her bag.
I look at my husband across the table. He knows I’ve said no. Perhaps when the moment comes, he will remember that. Perhaps he will stand up for the toast and talk about us.
Hedy catches my eye. I take a sip of water.
I stay.