The pathway leading to City Hall was lit with hurricane lanterns with tall white candles burning. At the stairway, the Rivoli jugglers were tossing fire and a small group stood to watch them. As they ascended the steps, Lara saw a sea of black and white formal wear in front of her. The lobby of the two-story building with its curving staircase had been converted for the gala. Other than the Victorian Christmas celebration when the twenty-five-foot tree stood here, this was the biggest event in the town. The Rivoli Circus had loaned out their orchestra for the occasion, and the sound of stringed instruments tuning themselves could be heard around the block.
While most towns wouldn’t have focused as much on their historical societies, Kerrigan Falls played it up. With Monticello and Montpelier nearby, the town was nestled among some of the most historic locations in America. Over the years, the carnival gala had grown, thanks largely to the fundraising efforts of Marla Archer. Before her, Marla’s mother, Vivian, had been the executive director of the Kerrigan Falls Historical Society. Under Marla’s leadership, the once tired dinner had become the social event of the season. It was a lovely tradition, and the fete only grew more crowded with each passing year. Along with the homes tour, it was also one of the biggest fundraisers.
The color scheme used the Rivoli colors of blue and green. In the grand foyer, chartreuse and indigo fabric panels streamed down in a dramatic maypole sweep over the two stories to mimic the circus’s big top. At center, a giant chandelier, surrounded by cascading green garland vines, dangled. Pots of green, blue, and white hydrangeas were interspersed with hurricane lamps. The room shimmered.
Audrey was immediately drawn into a conversation with a clump of masked revelers whom Lara recognized as some of the local vintners and stable owners. Passing her, waiters carried silver trays of smoked salmon and goat cheese puffs. Far off, Lara heard the sound of glassware clinking and the smell of meat on a grill.
Even with a mask, Marla Archer was easy to spot. She was wearing a peacock-blue mermaid gown with long sleeves and a plunging neckline with a matching green-and-blue choker necklace. As Marla turned, Lara noticed the gown was backless to her hips. Surrounded by board members and the mayor, who was drinking up the attention, Marla held court, placing her hand on the mayor’s forearm for emphasis in their conversation. Off to the side, drinking a glass of champagne, was a maskless Ben Archer. If there was any awkwardness between Marla and Ben, they put on a very good public display. He exchanged a quick hug with his ex-wife before the rest of their group began to squeeze together for a party picture. While Ben stood outside the frame of the camera, Lara watched as Marla coaxed Ben into the shot, pulling him in to replace her at the last minute. Ben looked sour before switching to a wide smile for the impromptu pose.
Lara was about to head over to him when she glanced up at the stairs that led to the second floor. Lara froze. Waiting for her on the landing at the top of the stairs was Todd Sutton.
She blinked, making sure that she was seeing clearly, then closed her eyes firmly and opened them again. He was still there, a crooked smile on his face, like he knew what she was doing. The room spun and she planted herself, looking down at her feet before looking up at him again. Her heart began to pound, and then, like the morning realization that a restless night had been nothing but a bad dream, a sense of relief washed over her. She had been too afraid to hope he would ever come back. Whatever reason he had for not showing that day, she was sure it was a good one. He was here now.
Like a popped cork, feelings that she had been too afraid to tap came flowing out of her—the despair at the loss of him, the anger, and finally the fear she couldn’t even admit to herself, yet she knew lurked underneath, that bitterness would eventually seep in until it gripped her fully. Lara had been so afraid of who she would become after the grief and the loss had permanently altered her and bitterness set in. Yet none of that mattered now.
Gathering the full skirt of the navy dress up in her hands, the tulle like foam under her fingertips, she climbed the stairs toward him, slowly at first, savoring each moment of eye contact with him again. With every step, she realized how much of a lie it had been—that she’d moved on—that she was strong—that she could go on without him. She’d told everyone what they’d wanted to hear. There was a crackle in the air. The truth was, she’d longed for him—his body—his voice—the firm feel of his hand in hers. In those hands were two glasses of champagne. Before climbing the final two stairs, she was about to take off into a run when she spied it.
The wedding ring on his finger.
She stopped on the step and looked down, holding on to the rail for a moment. That ring was still in Audrey’s jewelry box where she’d placed it that day. That day.
Gazing up at him, Lara realized after a moment that the tuxedo he was wearing was the one he would have worn to their wedding, the one that had been left on his bed. She placed her hand on her stomach and tried to compose herself.
This
