Chapter 10 - The Projection Screen
Dad didn't look at me when he went back to the microphone. He straightened his bow tie and smiled out at the tables like the last thirty seconds hadn't happened.
He put a hand lightly on Vanessa's back. She was still standing just behind the podium, the pearls catching the stage light.
"As I was saying," Dad said, and his voice was smooth again, that practiced thank-you voice. "Tonight I want to thank someone who changed my future. Vanessa has stood by me through the hardest year of my life. She deserves to be celebrated. She deserves those pearls and so much more."
The ballroom gave a polite, uncertain applause. Glasses clinked. Someone coughed. I could feel Mom behind me to my left, not touching me, just there.
I had the little silver USB in my palm. It was warm now from being clenched so tight. Grandma's handwriting on the masking tape around it said FOR ELLIE - PLAY IF NEEDED in faded blue ink.
I didn't go back to the microphone. I stepped sideways off the small stage and toward the AV table where the tech guy was crouched by his laptop, his headset around his neck. He looked up at me, surprised.
"Can you play this?" I whispered. I held out the USB.
He glanced at Dad at the podium, then back at me, then at Mom. Mom gave him a tiny nod. Her breathing was steady. I could hear it.
"Please," I said.
He took it. His fingers moved fast. He pulled the house laptop toward him and slid the USB in. A window popped up on his screen. He clicked twice and then looked toward the big projection screen behind Dad and nodded at me.
I walked back up the two steps to the stage. I didn't say anything into the mic. Dad was still talking about Vanessa, about partnership and support, and he didn't see the screen behind him light up.
Then Grandma's face filled the projection screen.
It was a close, simple video. She was in her living room, in her blue cardigan, sitting in her recliner. The pearls were around her own neck, the same three strands Vanessa was wearing now. In the corner of the video a white date stamp said 02-14-2024. Four months before she died.
The ballroom went completely silent. Dad stopped mid-sentence.
Grandma smiled a little and then breathed in.
"Hello, sweet pea," she said. Her voice was calm and a little thin, just like I remembered. Not dramatic at all. "If you're seeing this, it's because your dad had his big dinner and I wasn't there to keep things honest. So I'm going to do it now."
On screen she touched the pearls with her fingers, the same way Vanessa was touching them now without realizing it.
"These pearls were given to me by my mother in 1978. I have worn them to every important day in our family since then. I want there to be no confusion. I left these to your mom and to you, Ellie. Not to anyone else. I put it in writing and my lawyer has a copy. I love your dad, but he sometimes rewrites things to make himself more comfortable. I didn't want him to rewrite this."
She paused and looked straight into the camera. It felt like she was looking right at me.
"Ellie, you don't have to yell to be heard. You just have to tell the truth once, clearly. That's enough."
The video kept playing for a few more seconds. She just sat there, hands folded, pearls resting against her sweater, breathing quietly. Then the screen went black and then back to the hotel's crest logo.
No one clapped. No one moved for a second.
Vanessa's hand had come up to the pearls again. Her fingers were curled around them, but not like she was holding them tight. More like she suddenly felt how heavy they were. Her mouth was a little open. She looked at Dad, then at the screen, then down at the necklace.
Dad was frozen with one hand still on the podium. His knuckles had gone white. He stared out at the tables, but I don't think he was seeing anyone. The microphone picked up his breathing.
May you like
Mom stepped up beside me then. She didn't put her arm around me. She just stood shoulder to shoulder with me, close enough that our sleeves touched. I could feel her chest rise and fall, slow and steady. She didn't look at Dad or Vanessa. She looked out at the room with me.
The chandeliers hummed faintly overhead. A candle flickered on the closest table. Two hundred people had just seen where the pearls really came from, and there was no way to pretend they hadn't.
