The damp table.

The service area.

Then she looked at me.

“Sarah.”

“Yes?”

“Who is your husband?”

I almost smiled.

“Daniel Brooks.”

She stared at me.

“Daniel Brooks?”

“Yes.”

“The Daniel Brooks?”

“I’m not sure how many there are.”

Her expression tightened.

“You’ve been married to Daniel Brooks for three years and never told us?”

“I told you exactly who I married. His name is Daniel Brooks. He works with his hands. He keeps bees. He owns property in Vermont. Everything I told you was true.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you tell us the rest?”

I looked at her.

“Because if I had told you he was a successful investor, you would have treated him like an opportunity.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

She started to answer.

“We would have welcomed him properly.”

I looked at the table beside us.

“No. You would have welcomed what he could do for you.”

She said nothing.

“That is not the same thing as welcoming him.”

Mom looked away.

I continued.

“You put us beside the trash bins in the rain and told us we could eat leftovers because you looked at Daniel and decided he wasn’t worth giving a seat.”

“I didn’t know.”

“That’s exactly the point.”

She looked at me.

“The man standing inside with James Hartley is the same man who was sitting here ten minutes ago.”

I gestured toward the glass.

“He hasn’t changed.”

“The only thing that changed is what you now know about his bank account.”

Mom stared into the ballroom.

Then she said,

“Madison didn’t know either.”

“Madison poured wine on me.”

Mom went silent.

“In front of her friends.”

Nothing.

“And you smiled.”

She looked at the stain.

I wasn’t shouting.

Strangely, I wasn’t even angry anymore.

“I’m not telling you this because I want to embarrass you.”

She looked back at me.

“I’m telling you because you finally have all the information.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go inside and stand beside my husband.”

I paused.

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