Chapter 11: Walking Back Through The Gold Doors
We stayed like that for a second after he said we were going back out together. His hand was still holding mine and I could hear the ballroom on the other side of the closed doors.
It wasn't loud. It was that low, pretty chatter people do when they've had wine, with the clink of glasses and soft music underneath. I squeezed the cloth tighter and felt the little hard circle of the ring inside it.
Richard stood up first. He didn't let go. He had to bend his knees to keep his hand at my level and I stood up with him. My shawl slipped off one shoulder and he waited while I pulled it back up. Vivian was a step behind us, her hands clasped in front of her burgundy dress. The sapphires at her throat caught the light even in the dim hallway.
"You ready?" he asked me, quiet.
I nodded. My mouth was dry and I didn't trust my voice yet.
He reached for the big gold handles. The doors were heavier than they looked. He pushed with his shoulder and they swung open and the warm air and the light and the noise all came out at once.
The chandelier was still on, just like before, throwing that yellow-white light over everything. The tables were all still set with the little name cards and the flower things. For a half second nobody noticed us because the band was playing and a waiter was pouring something.
Then someone at the nearest table turned and saw us.
Richard didn't stop at the edge or try to find a back table. He walked right onto the main floor, in the middle of the rug, with me at his side. My gray shawl felt scratchy and wrong next to all the tuxedos and the long dresses. My shoes made a soft scuffing sound and his dress shoes didn't make any sound at all. He kept his pace slow so I didn't have to hurry.
The music kept going for a few more notes and then it kind of faded out. I saw the band leader look over and lift his hand to tell them to stop.
People started to stare. Not in a mean way at first, just that quick turn of the head everyone does when a door opens and they want to see who came in. Then they kept staring because it was him, and because I was with him, and because we weren't supposed to be together.
A woman in a black dress put her hand on her husband's arm. A man holding a drink lowered it without taking a sip. The small talk just thinned out until I could hear the chandelier humming a little.
The gala coordinator, the man with the headset and the clipboard who had been near the stage earlier, froze halfway between two tables. He looked at Richard, then at me, then back at Richard, like he wasn't sure if he should come over or get out of the way. He took a half step and then stopped.
Richard didn't say anything yet. He just kept his hand around mine, not tight, just steady. I could feel him breathing next to me. He didn't pull me behind him and he didn't push me in front. We walked side by side past the first row of tables toward the open space where the dance floor was.
Behind us I heard Vivian's heels. She came through the doors after us and didn't try to stop us. She smoothed her dress with one hand and kept her chin up. The sapphire necklace and the matching earrings were bright under the chandelier. She smiled a small, practiced smile at a couple as she passed them, even though her eyes didn't smile. She stayed a few steps back, close enough that it looked like she was with us, far enough that she wasn't touching us.
We got to the middle of the floor and Richard slowed to a stop. I could see our reflection in the polished wood. I looked small.
He let go just enough to slide an empty chair out from the nearest table with his foot. It wasn't at the back by the kitchen doors where the extra chairs were. It was right at the front table, the one with the little gold sign that said Foundation on it. He didn't ask the people sitting there if it was okay. He just placed his hand lightly on the back of the chair and looked at me.
"You can sit here with me," he said, not loud. Just for me.
I sat down. The chair was big and my feet didn't quite touch the floor. I set the cloth in my lap and kept both hands over it. The ring made a little bump under the fabric.
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He sat in the chair next to me and turned it a little so his knee was close to mine. He didn't go up to the stage and he didn't reach for the microphone that was sitting there waiting. He just stayed there, his arm resting on the table near me, so everyone who was looking had to see that I wasn't going to be moved or hidden.
The room stayed quiet. Vivian reached our table last. She pulled out the chair on his other side and sat down, her back straight, her hands folding neatly in front of her. The light hit her necklace again. I kept looking at Richard's hand next to my cloth and I didn't let go.
