Page 106 of Meet Me in the Garden

She scoffs. “I had no trouble with the agent today. You should have seen him, showing me the houses just as eager as could be.” Adele strides back down the sidewalk toward us, miniskirt bright as the sun. “Wait,” Claire says, a dawning coming over her, speaking louder now. “You’re saying I’m likeDelphine?”

“Well,aren’tyou?” Adele says, looming over the table, face flushed. “Have you thought it all through? Are you going to have us over to show us the place or will you wait until the loan’s final? Wouldn’t want to be found out until the house is really yours, now, would you? And how about after that? I suppose we’ll be hosting every time—again—so you won’t have to explain us to the neighbors.”

“Stop it!That’s not the way it is at all. There are people from all over buying houses there. There’s a Chinese family right across the street from the house I looked at.” She’s crying now, and I wonder if it’s possible that she hadn’t thought it through.

“Sure,” Adele says, quieter. “But are there any colored families?”

Claire opens her mouth, closes it. “We’reCreole,” she says.

“We’re colored,” Adele says.

Claire looks to me.

“We’re both,” I say.

“If you do this,” Adele says. “If you move to a place where your own sister’s family isn’t welcome—where your nephews and your niece are not welcome—then don’t expect to be welcome in our home either.”

On Monday at work everything outside my booth feels too loud. I go through the lunch line, accept a sandwich from Gladys, take it out to the bench alongside the parking lot. I try not to think about my sisters. Try not to think about what I’ll do for work. Try to ease the tightness in my chest. And then, from the building, someone heads toward me. Ginny.

“I saw you from the window,” she says. “Came to tell you two things. Oh. You’re sad?”

“I miss Lionel,” I say.

“Me too.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. Shorter again now.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“First, I just gave the plant my notice. I’m starting a new job in two weeks. Second, I’m hosting a little party tonight at my place.”

“Another going away party?”

“No, I just have some friends in town. Will you come?”

“Yes.” She smiles. And then I remember I made plans with Elise.

“Bring her along,” Ginny says. “Seven o’clock.”

The next hours fly by—finishing my shift and punching my time card, driving home to freshen up and change, hopping into Elise’s car for the short drive to Ginny and Pamela’s place.

“It’s a good step, right?” I say. “To stop avoiding each other when there’s no need to. But what if Pamela shoots daggers at me all night?”

“I’ll position my body to shield you.”

“What if they kiss, and I burst into tears?”

“We’ll pretend you’re choking on your drink.”

We get to the front door and I can’t bring myself to knock. Elise does it for me, and a woman I don’t recognize answers. She’s petite and pretty with a faint scar along her bottom lip. Elise makes our introductions but I don’t hear her. I’m taking in what’s around me. No Elizabeth Taylor poster. No shells on the coffee table. No coffee table at all anymore, just an upturned crate. When Ginny walks in from the kitchen, my whole body hums.

She looks straight at me, she smiles, she comes toward me without hesitation and gives me a hug, her hands grazing my waist as she lets go.

“You and Pamela?” I ask.

“A few months ago.” She leads me over to the woman who answered the door and a man standing with his arm around her. “You remember Odette,” Ginny says to the man.

“Sure,” he says. “But it’s been averylong time.”

I’m confused, embarrassed, can’t place him. There’s a patience about him as he waits. He has close-cropped strawberry blond hair, an elegant nose, a narrow equine face. A flicker of memory catches. Another party,so many years ago. Answering the door for Lionel and me. Sharing a chair with Ginny. Quoting Emily Dickinson, flirting with me. I draw in a breath, realizing. “Oh,” I say. “It’syou.”