Tracy was beside me, her hand around my elbow, and The quartet stumbled over a bar of music and recovered.
Heads began to turn.
Jeanette saw me first.
Her face did something very quick and very cold, and then it smoothed over into a smile that I had seen at forty Overton family dinners.
“Hilary,” she said.
She crossed the floor in her black heels, click, click, click, and she stopped three feet in front of me, and she did not hug me.
“I distinctly said family only.”
“I’m Neal’s wife,” I said.
“I’m his widow.”
“Of course, dear.”
“And we’re all so sorry.”
“But this is a day for the family.”
Becky stepped up on her left with the Birkin on her arm and a face like a polite door.
“We just didn’t want to put you through it,” she said.
Ted lowered his champagne.
