At the south end of the beach a sign informs us the area is reserved for a private event. I almost wonder who is getting married, and then I realize, it’s our event. Dr. Rosenthal agreed to this idea, David’s idea, because the funeral had been small. I’d told him I couldn’t handle a big service, not after the days of hope, not after all I’d been through. So this is our gift to the community, to help with the healing, David explained as Dr. Rosenthal nodded. Closure. It was the last time he came to a session. I guess he got what he wanted. Permission to throw a party with Kylie.

David parks the car in the only “reserved” spot. I turn and look at him, chiseled chin, thick dark hair. He looks about the same, but he’s not the man I married twenty-two years ago. Nor, of course, am I the same woman. Well, actually, that’s not true. I am exactly the same. I’ve just been hiding until now. I guess I really should have tried harder to make it in Hollywood. I’m a natural, they all told me that back in Arkansas. Next week, head shots. I repeat that in my mind like a mantra, calming myself.

David’s jaw clenches and he turns toward me, noticing my stare and my awkward breathing. I look at my lap. I’m imagining what I will do if Elizabeth dares to show up. She had better not appear. She’s not welcome here.

She never was.

I take a deep breath. I must be calm, in control. Later, I will confront my husband, the man sitting next to me, the father of our adopted daughter.

“Hello, Jane? Have you settled down?” David stares at me like I’m a toddler who’s having a fit over nothing.

I swallow. “I’m fine, dear.”

“Good. Let’s just get through this ceremony together, as Mary’s parents. Don’t embarrass yourself this evening. Or Betsy. It’s important for people to see you are fine, sort of returning to normal. My parents will be here, too, of course. Please, let’s just all get along. For Mary’s sake, please.” David opens his door and gets out of the car without hearing my answer.

That’s probably for the best. I won’t repeat it here.