He smiled and said, “Come to the study in an hour. You can meet my cousin Sam again, and then you’ll be interviewed by the Council director. He’s brought his longtime girlfriend, who’ll visit with my grandmother. They’ll stay for dinner and once they leave, we can relax.”

“I’m looking forward to that, the relaxing part,” I said. “Maybe we can have some serious and sincere naked relaxation time.”

“We will when you’re well.” He reached into his pocket again and took out something silver. “This was yours.”

He’d given me such wonderful things that I didn’t know why I hesitated before taking the object. It was a small sterling penknife engraved with “To MDLS with Love. OKG.”

Suddenly I saw a hotel room, all creams and browns, and the windows outside showed the city skyline. I felt my love for Oswald, and I saw my hand holding the knife that I now held. And now I knew that I had truly loved him, but I hadn’t liked the knife.

“Milagro?”

“What? Thank you.” I didn’t want this gift. “It’s lovely.”

“I hope you’ll want to use it … eventually.”

I smiled, which seemed enough for him, and he said, “You’re going to do great.”

When Oswald left, I put the knife in the desk drawer. Then I took a look in the bathroom mirror. My chi-chis were tragically flattened in the yoga bra, so I changed into a red lace number that had amazing perking properties.

The ostentatious engagement ring needed to be dressed down. I looped a length of green gardening twine through it and wore it around my neck.

Still, I felt plain. I remembered the disco ball earrings. No one could object to such inexpensive trinkets. I put them on and when I moved my head, they swung amusingly.

I used such infinitesimal smidges of makeup that they were practically theoretical.

I knew the guests had arrived when I heard cars, dogs barking, and then faint voices.

I walked to the study, where Oswald was waiting with another man, who was wearing a brown suit and a pink shirt. He resembled Oswald, but with lighter brown hair and gentler features, like a kind accountant who calculates your taxes from a collection of crumpled receipts.

“Young Lady.” He held out his hands and took mine. He glanced down at my gloves and then back at my face. He smiled so warmly that I grinned, too, and said, “Hi.”

Oswald said, “Milagro, this is Sam Grant, our cousin and our legal counsel.”

“We’re old friends,” Sam said in a slow, moderated voice. “I wish I could have come earlier, but Dr. Harrison thought that too much activity would interfere with your recovery. You really don’t remember me?”

“If I’d remember anyone, it would be you, Sam,” I said, and winked.

Oswald said, “Milagro, the Council director is with Gabriel and Lily now.”