Firm both hands this time like his wife had done a mirroring. That was probably unconscious and probably said something about 36 years of marriage. You take care of her, James said. It was the simplest thing he'd said all night. It was also the truest.
I intend to, Andre said, and let himself mean it just for a moment, just enough to get through the door. Lucille pressed a folded paper into his hand when she hugged him. He didn't look at it until they were outside. It had her phone number on it. Below the number in handwriting that was still precise and elegant even at 81.
She'd written for when she needs talking sense into she doesn't listen to her mother but she listens to you. I can tell. He put it in his blazer pocket. Dedra hugged Clare for a long time then pulled back and looked at her with the clear eyes of a cousin who had known her since they were both small and had no use for comfortable untruths. "He's real," Dedree said.
Not to Andre, to Clare. I mean, he's actually real. You know what I mean? Go home, Derer. Clare said.
I'm just saying. I know what you're saying. Go home, Dedray grinned. Looked at Anorray. You're good for her, she said with the simple certainty of someone who had decided and saw no reason to soften the decision.
Don't mess it up, Dedra. I'm walking. She squeezed Clare's arm and walked away. And Andre watched Clare watch her go, and he caught the expression on Clare's face in the second before she arranged it back into composure. Something raw and uncertain and entirely unperformed.
Then Ryan was there. He had waited, not obviously, he'd said goodbye to James and hugged Patricia and had a brief, quiet exchange with Lucille that looked like something routine, something practiced from years of being part of this family's orbit, even after he'd officially left it. But he had positioned himself so that he would be the last goodbye. And both Andre and Clare understood that without discussing it. It was good to see you, Ryan said to Clare quietly, without the careful pleasantness he'd worn all evening.
This was something under that something that had been there all night and had decided it had been patient long enough. "You, too," Clare said. "You a pause. You look well, Ryan said. You look actually well. " "Not performing well, actual. " Clare held his gaze.
I am. Ryan nodded. His eyes moved to Andre for a moment. Not challenging, just acknowledging. She's particular, he said.