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She s in her lined face “I’ll get to it,” she says ga four platters of la at how quickly she works I hope I’m that dexterous when I’m ninety

I walk back into the dining rooe is escorting hi for him Rachel, Maura, and Blair—all clad in Sunday best and lacy aprons—wave their arest chair at an e with the ribbons tied to the end of her blonde braids She’s wearing her favorite candy-apple-red dress and red lipstick, and I’d wager she’s got those inserts in her bra Holly’s flat as a boy, but she’s got so froives le, and she loves celebrities At least she thinks she does No one here would really know

As I wave back, our friend Dot co a white dress that makes her lovely skin look deeper olive Her dark hair is piled atop her head—perhaps a bit extravagant for the occasion, but she looks none the worse for it

“Finley!” She gestures up and down her body as her eyes bulge, and I gather she’s not pleased with my wardrobe choice I step closer to her “I’ht after this” Which reen blouse perfectly appropriate

“Your hair!”

I run my hand over my ponytail as ear Babies wear hand-painted onesies, kids homemade sport jerseys Old Mr Button has his face painted—God spare him

I try to spy the guest of honor as ers crowd ’round the café’s eight tables and then line the walls, their bodies heating up the air and scenting it with ghastly quantities of perfume

I spy Anna, my dearest friend, on the other side of the rooea print, and wee Kayti is draped over her shoulder in a pale pink onesie Anna slides into a spot behind the coat rack to the right of the door, and I start toward her, swih the sea of elbows and shoulders

I s as I squeeze past Mrs Dillon, who is over, to see if she’d likethrough the crohen Anna shifts Kayti in her ar, blue eyes, and I grin, pausing hter

I’ hard and warie

That first glance drives the breath out of s I know it’s hi as a stranger on Tristan At the same ti, surely I’d have heard

His hair is chestnut brown: rich and dark, with streaks of burnished gold Stubble lines his hard jaw, drawing ht—and at last to his eyes It takes me a moment to note their color—sea blue—because the set of the, thick brows, is so disar

He looks like a warrior Like a king He’s tall and large, with hulking shoulders, smooth, tanned skin, an air of confidence and ease

Privilege, I almost murmur

Then I feel his hand ondi white teeth