I notice a few people are watching us, our escalating fight. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable for them to witness such a display of rage at what should be a happy celebration. In polite society, domestic disturbances are kept behind closed doors for everyone’s benefit. But David can’t hold it in any longer. I can see it in his eyes, dark and shiny. He has come undone.

Don’t you dare feel sorry for him.

My arm is throbbing under his grip. I’ll have a bruise. I say far too loudly, “Let go. You’re hurting me!” I knew that would turn some heads. I’m a damsel in distress, in a vibrant blue dress. Ha.

A man I don’t know, but one of the gentlemen who overtly appreciated my outfit earlier, stops walking and asks, “Is everything all right here?”

David drops my arm and I smile at the man, flash my best flirtatious smile.

“Yes, I’m fine now. Thank you.”

“Good. Such a happy day, isn’t it?” the stranger asks. He’s looking at David.

David shakes his head. “Oh, yes, it’s a terrific day.”

It’s time to get to Betsy. “Let’s go find our daughter, shall we?”

“After you,” the man says, walking between David and me.

I add an extra swing in my step, just for fun. I know the stranger is appreciative. I wish I could explain the happiness I feel in my heart right now. I’m coming back to life. And it’s fantastic.

41

7:00 p.m.

I feel the stranger’s eyes on me as he follows me out of the auditorium. I recount all his assets as I sway my hips. He has silver hair, I love that, an in-shape body almost as nice as David’s, and he’s wearing a well-cut, expensive designer suit. A glimpse at his left hand and the bare ring finger is encouraging for the future. Perhaps he is a widower, or a never-married, wealthy tycoon just looking for his perfect match: me. Of course, he must be here because a kid of his just graduated, so there is some sort of family around, I realize. But a girl can dream.

“Have a good evening,” he whispers once we’re outside in the quad. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.” He slips his card between my fingers and my knees almost buckle. I need this. You have to understand, it’s been a long year of grieving in my house.

“Please do,” I say, tilting my head to my best camera-ready side as he disappears into the crowd.

David tries to grab my arm again, he wants to interrogate me about Kylie/Nancy, but I see Betsy. It’s almost as if the crowds have parted for us and I run to her, giving her a big, final graduation hug. No one comes between me and my daughters.