Part 5
I crossed the room and sat beside Beatriz.
“Did he hurt her?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t cry out. But she wanted him to let go.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her answer came slowly.
“Because I wanted it to be an argument I didn’t understand. Because she was getting married, and I was afraid of being the person who brought trouble into it.”
I took her hand.
“You didn’t bring it.”
She began to cry, with her face turned away from the others.
For twenty years, Beatriz had known where our dishes belonged, when Natalie needed food before she knew she was hungry, and which anniversaries I would claim to have forgotten. She had made room for our grief without asking us to name it.
I had mistaken that quiet knowledge for an absence of worry.
“Tell Miriam everything you remember,” I said. “The day, the words, where they were standing.”
Miriam wrote down the account. Frank did not add it to the reception slides. It was evidence for the investigators, and something I needed to keep in mind when I spoke to Natalie.
At one forty-seven, Miriam closed her file.
“The final review is at noon. You need to lie down before then.”
“I doubt I’ll sleep.”
“Lie down anyway.”
Leonard touched my shoulder on his way out. Beatriz stayed to clear the cups. Frank checked the projector once more, then packed the controls he would need.
Miriam was last.
At the door, she turned.
“By tonight, Natalie will know what Grant was planning. She’ll also know you were willing to put it in front of everyone.”
“I understand.”
“Those are two different things for her to live with.”
After she left, I remained in Arthur’s study.
His photograph stood where I could see it from the chair. We had taken it on the day we moved into the house. He was wearing a shirt with the sleeves pushed up, and there was a dirty mark on his cheek from helping the movers.
I had laughed at him just before the picture was taken.
“I wish I could ask you,” I said.
Upstairs, the dress hung from the closet door. Louise had slipped a little envelope into the garment bag with spare thread and a hook. I took it out and placed it in the drawer beside my bed.
At six, I showered.
I stayed beneath the water until I stopped feeling cold. Then I sat at the vanity and put on the makeup I knew how to apply without thinking. The original speech lay beside the mirror, three pages in my own handwriting.
I left the pages untouched. The other speech was already in my head.
Beatriz brought coffee at seven. She put the cup within reach and touched my shoulder before going downstairs.
At nine, the stylist arrived.
She talked about the weather and said the light on the lawn would be lovely. I answered when she expected me to answer. When she asked whether I was nervous, I told her that mothers always were.
She laughed.
At eleven, Natalie knocked.
She was already in her gown, though her veil had not yet been pinned in place. The skirt made a soft sound as she came into the room. Her eyes were swollen at the edges.
“Could we have a minute?”
I asked the stylist to give us some privacy.
When the door closed, Natalie stood beside it with both hands clasped at her waist.
“Mom, before everything starts, I need you to hear something.”
I waited.
“I love you. Whatever happens today, please remember that.”
She looked directly at me when she said it.
“I love you too,” I said. “That’s why we need to talk before you go downstairs.”
Her fingers tightened.
“About what?”
“The papers Grant wants me to sign.”
She glanced toward the door.
“He said we could discuss them afterward.”
“I heard the three of you at Bellamy’s.”
For several seconds she did not move.
“You were there?”
“Yes. Miriam has reviewed the documents. What he’s prepared goes well beyond the transfer he described to you.”
“You only heard part of it.”
“I’ve seen the papers.”
I reached for the folder beside the vanity. Miriam had given me copies of the consent and the email to Carrick.
“Natalie, sit down. Read these.”
She looked at the top page, then pushed the folder back toward me.
“You’ve been talking to Leonard.”
“This came from Grant’s company email.”
“Leonard has been against him for months.”
“Read it before you decide what it means.”
Her eyes filled.
“Today? With everyone coming here?”
“Today, before you make your vows.”
She stepped away from the vanity. I could see the little buttons Louise had sewn down the back of her dress.
“You don’t have to go through with the ceremony,” I said. “We can ask for time. I’ll speak to the guests.”
“No.”
“There’s no shame in waiting.”
“I’m marrying him, Mom.”
“Even if he’s been lying to you?”
“He promised the papers could wait. He said once we were married, we could stop fighting over all of this.”
“Natalie.”
“I want one decision to belong to me.”
The words came out louder than she intended. She covered her mouth, then lowered her hand.
“Please,” she said. “Let me have that.”
I placed the folder on the vanity.
“If you change your mind, come back here. You don’t have to explain it to anybody first.”
She nodded without looking at the papers.
Then she came across the room and put her arms around me. Her dress pressed against my knees, and the little buttons felt cool beneath my fingertips.
I held her.
When she stepped away, she looked as though she might speak again. Instead, she opened the door.
I could not make her read what she refused to read. I could refuse to sign, and I could make sure the people who had heard Grant question my judgment saw the evidence for themselves.
When the stylist returned, I asked her to touch up my lipstick.
At noon, Frank confirmed the officers’ attendance and Irene’s connection. We reviewed the slides one final time. Miriam checked each document against the copy supplied to investigators.
By one, the emergency order had been entered under seal.
The banks were placing holds. The closing agent had received notice but was still reviewing the authority behind the documents Grant had submitted.
“They haven’t canceled the release yet,” Miriam told me. “I’m staying on it.”
At three, the guests began arriving.
There were nearly two hundred of them: old family friends, clients, senior staff, board members, and people who had known Arthur before he ever owned a company. From my bedroom window, I watched the valets direct cars down the drive.
I dressed.
Louise had been right about the sleeves. They allowed me to move without pulling across the shoulders. I fastened my earrings, checked the hook at the back of the gown, and went downstairs.
Beatriz met me in the hall.
“You look beautiful.”
I thanked her.
At four-thirty, I saw Morozov standing near the back of the lawn.
He was watching Grant.
Grant kept moving among the guests, shaking hands, accepting congratulations, glancing toward him whenever he thought nobody would notice.
I found Frank near the reception tent.
“He’s here.”
“I saw him.”
“Will he cause trouble?”
“We’re watching.”
At five, the quartet began.
Guests turned toward the house. Natalie stood at the top of the steps with her veil in place, one hand lifting the front of her skirt.
I went to her.
There had been a time when I imagined Arthur waiting there, offering his arm, pretending not to cry. For years, I had kept that imagined moment even though I knew it could never happen.
Natalie reached for me.
“Thank you for doing this.”
I placed her hand on my arm.
We walked onto the grass.
The aisle seemed longer with everyone standing beside it. Leonard gave me a small nod. Miriam’s phone was faceup in her lap. Frank remained near the rear, looking beyond us rather than at us.
Natalie’s fingers tightened just before we reached the oak.
Grant waited under its branches. He smiled at her, his collar darkened slightly at the neck.
The officiant asked who accompanied the bride with the family’s blessing.
“Her father is with us,” I said. “And I’m here for her.”
Natalie turned and embraced me. I held her long enough to feel her breathing against my shoulder. Then she stepped away and took Grant’s hand.
I sat in the front row.
They spoke their vows. Grant lost his place once and recovered with a little laugh. Natalie’s voice shook when she answered him. He put the ring on her finger, and she stared at it for a second before lifting her eyes.
When the officiant pronounced them married, the guests began to clap. My hands stayed in my lap…
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