I look good. My new dress is elegant, suitable for the mother of the deceased, I guess. My makeup is perfect, and waterproof. I slip on a pair of sand-friendly flats. I’m ready but David is late. We haven’t spoken, not since the little scene in the courtyard. He’s enveloped himself in a cloak of rage over palm tree removal and sends my calls straight to voice mail. Maybe he won’t pick me up at all?

I believe I have a more valid reason to be furious than he does. I pace up and down the entry hall, wondering if Betsy will come home before the ceremony, or simply appear at the beach, like a stranger, one of the invitees as opposed to one of the family.

No matter how we all arrive at the memorial service, David and I will be a united front starting tonight. Betsy will join us. We will all three sit together, up front, grieving but harmonious, loving. This is my plan. For now, for tonight, I will keep quiet about the new information that Elizabeth James revealed. As hard as it is to bite my tongue, I will. Revenge is best served cold, as you know.

As for the actual ceremony, I don’t really care what goes on, I just want it to be over. Only David and Kylie seem to look forward to it. All week she has copied us both on email updates filled with perky hashtags and exclamation points. David effuses back with thanks. I delete them all.

This evening will be perfect!! #sunset #meaningful, Kylie wrote in her latest missive this afternoon. Please find me when you arrive and I’ll show you to your seat. #frontrow. There will be a brief presentation by the pastor and a song, and then just mingling and remembering. See you in three hours!

David answers, Thank you for all of your hard work!!!

What should I say? She doesn’t work for me!!! We barely know each other beyond a hello at company functions!!!! Get away from my husband!!!!!!!! When is the last time I have been invited to a company function? Not since Mary left for college, I realize with a start. I’ll need to ask David about this. There are so many things I should be asking David about. And I will.

I hear a honk. That couldn’t possibly be for me?

I check my phone. I’ve missed a text from David. Out front.

Another honk. Seriously?

You are honking at your wife!! #rude

I hurry out the door, through the courtyard and out the front gate as David honks again.

I yank open the door to his silver Tesla and lean in. “Really? Honking?”