Fourteen months I had worn it around my neck, against my heart, with my thumb running over the worn spot on its band.
“Give it back,” I said.
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Jeanette.
“Family only.”
Ted reached into his jacket and drew out a long white envelope.
“While we’re here,” he said.
“It’ll save the postage.”
“This is a thirty-day notice to vacate the house on Meadow Lane.”
“The company owns it, Hil.”
“Neal put it in the company’s name for liability, years ago.”
“It’s all legal.”
“And this is a little something to help you move.”
He tucked a check into the envelope for show.
Five thousand dollars.
I saw the number.
Jeanette smiled and folded my fingers around it.
“Charity is a kindness, dear,” she said.
“Take it.”
The whole room had stopped.
A hundred and fifty people sat on folding chairs, with their programs in their laps, and no one said a word.
