All We Ever Wanted(3)
“You look amazing, too. Are those new?” I reached up to her face, my fingertips grazing the most gorgeous chandelier diamond earrings.
“Newly acquired but vintage,” she said. “Latest apology from you know who.”
I smiled and glanced around for her husband. “Where is Todd, anyway?”
“Scotland. Boys’ golf trip. Remember?” she said, rolling her eyes.
“That’s right,” I said, thinking that it was hard to keep up with Todd’s boondoggles. He was worse than Kirk.
“Will you share this fella with me tonight?” Melanie asked with a shimmy of her shoulders as Kirk rounded the car and joined us.
“I’m sure he has no objections,” I said, smiling.
An accomplished flirt, Kirk nodded, giving Melanie a double-cheek kiss. “You look stunning,” he told her.
She smiled and thanked him, then shouted, “Omigod! I heard the fabulous news! Princeton! You must be so over-the-moon proud!”
“We are. Thanks, Mel….Has Beau made a final decision?” Kirk asked, shifting the attention to Melanie’s son. His friendship with Finch, going all the way back to the first grade, was really the reason Mel and I had become so close.
“It’s looking like Kentucky,” Melanie said.
“Full ride?” Kirk asked.
“Half,” Melanie said, beaming. Beau was an average student but an amazing baseball player, and had similar offers from a handful of schools.
“That’s still really impressive. Good for him,” Kirk said.
For years I’d had the uncomfortable feeling that Kirk had been jealous of Beau’s baseball career. He often accused Melanie and Todd of being obnoxious, bragging too much about all-star this and that. But now it was easy for Kirk to be gracious; Finch had won, after all. Princeton trumped baseball. At least that’s how I knew my husband saw it.
As Melanie flitted off to greet another friend, Kirk announced that he was going to find the bar. “Do you want a drink?” he asked, usually quite chivalrous at the start of the evening. It was the end of the night that sometimes got iffy.
“Yes. But I’ll go with you,” I said, determined to spend quality time together, even in a crowd. “Can we please not make it a late night?”
“Sure. That’s fine,” Kirk said, slipping his arm around my waist as we walked into the glittering hotel lobby.
* * *
—
THE REST OF the night followed the usual gala script, beginning with cocktails and a silent auction. There was nothing I really wanted, but reminding myself that all the money was going to a good cause, I bid on a sapphire cocktail ring. Meanwhile, I nursed a glass of sauvignon blanc, made small talk, and reminded Kirk not to drink too much.
At some point, the dinner chimes sounded, the lobby bar stopped serving, and we were herded into an expansive ballroom to find our assigned tables. Kirk and I were at a ten-top, front and center, seated with three other couples we knew reasonably well, plus Melanie, who kept me more than entertained with a running critique of the décor (the floral arrangements were too high), the cuisine (chicken, again?), and the egregiously clashing red and maroon attire of the gala co-chairs (how could they not have thought to coordinate?).
Then, as an army of waiters trotted out our standard chocolate mousse desserts, the gala chairs introduced Kirk and me, heaping praise on us for our commitment to this charity and so many others. I sat up as straight as I could, feeling a bit nervous as I heard So, without further ado…Nina and Kirk Browning.
As the crowd applauded, Kirk and I rose and made our way to the short staircase leading up to the stage. With my hand in his, we ascended the steps, my heart pounding with a rush of adrenaline that came from being in the spotlight. When we reached the podium, Kirk stepped forward to take the microphone while I stood at his side, pressing my shoulder blades together, a smile plastered across my face. When the applause died down, Kirk began to speak, first thanking the co-chairs, their various committees, our fellow patrons, and all the donors. He then got to the reason we were here tonight, his voice growing somber. I stared at his strong profile, thinking how handsome he was.
“My wife, Nina, and I have a son named Finch,” he said. “Finch, like some of your children, will be graduating from high school in just a couple of months. In the fall, he will be headed off to college.”
I looked past the bright lights into a sea of faces as Kirk continued. “For the last eighteen years, our life has revolved around him. He is the most precious thing in the world to us,” he said, then halted, looked down, and took a few seconds to continue. “And I just can’t imagine the horror of losing him.”
I lowered my gaze, nodding in agreement, feeling a stab of overwhelming grief and compassion for every family devastated by suicide. But as Kirk went on to talk about the organization, my mind guiltily wandered back to our life, our son. All the opportunity that stretched ahead for him.
I tuned back in to hear my husband say, “So, in closing, Nina and I are so honored to join with you in this important cause….This is a fight for all of our children. Thank you so much. And good night.”
As the crowd applauded once again, and a few of our closest friends actually stood for an ovation, Kirk turned and gave me a wink. He knew he’d nailed it.