Chapter 26
A year after the gala, Second Table returned to the same ballroom.
I almost refused.
Then Maria called me a coward.
So we booked it.
This time, the event honored service workers.
Not donors.
Hotel staff sat at the front tables.
Executives served the first course.
Robert carried a tray badly.
I told him not to quit his day job.
Victoria attended quietly.
She paid for her own ticket.
No special table.
No name on the program.
That mattered.
Before the event began, I stood in the service hallway holding one of the uniforms.
Claire found me there.
“You wearing it?”
“I thought about it.”
She touched the sleeve.
“You don’t need to prove anything anymore.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you holding it?”
“Mom.”
Claire understood.
We had placed one of my mother’s old name tags inside a small display honoring workers whose labor supported families across the city.
Her name was Evelyn Carter.
BANQUET SERVER.
I ran my finger over it.
“She would think this whole thing was ridiculous.”
Claire smiled.
“Why?”
“She hated attention.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She kissed me.
We walked into the ballroom.
The program went well.
No scandals.
No confrontations.
Until dessert.
I heard a man raise his voice near the back.
A young server stood beside a table.
A guest was angry because coffee had spilled near his sleeve.
Not even on him.
Near him.
“You people never pay attention.”
The room around him became uncomfortable.
I started walking over.
Someone reached him first.
Victoria.
My stomach tightened.
She approached calmly.
“Sir.”
He looked at her.
“Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Then mind your business.”
Victoria looked at the server.
“Are you okay?”
The young woman nodded nervously.
The man scoffed.
“She made a mess.”
Victoria glanced at the table.
Then at him.
“It appears the coffee spilled when you moved your chair.”
His face reddened.
“Excuse me?”
Victoria remained calm.
“And even if she spilled it, you don’t speak to her like that.”
He laughed.
“Who are you?”
Victoria paused.
Then said, “Someone who learned that question too late.”
I stopped several feet away.
Claire stood beside me.
The man muttered something and sat down.
Victoria helped the server wipe the table.
No applause.
No dramatic reveal.
Most guests never noticed.
That made it more meaningful.
Later, Victoria approached me.
“I didn’t know you were watching.”
“I know.”
She looked relieved.
“Good.”
I smiled.
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to stop doing decent things for witnesses.”
That was the best thing she had ever said to me.
I nodded.
“You’re getting there.”
Her eyes filled slightly.
“Thank you.”
At the end of the gala, I gave my speech.
Shorter this time.
I told the story everyone already knew.
Not about the slap.
About my mother.
About uniforms.
About dignity.
Then I asked every service employee in the room to remain seated.
The donors stood.
We applauded them.
Maria hated it.
She cried anyway.
Afterward, Claire and I walked onto the hotel roof.
The skyline spread around us.
“One year.”
She leaned against me.
“Feels like ten.”
“Good ten or bad ten?”
“Both.”
She held my hand.
Then placed it against her stomach.
I looked at her.
She smiled.
For a second, my brain stopped working.
“Claire.”
“I found out yesterday.”
“Are you—”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“Pregnant?”
She laughed.
“That is generally what this means.”
I picked her up.
She screamed.
“James!”
I put her down immediately.
“Sorry. Is that safe?”
She laughed harder.
“Yes.”
Then she cried.
So did I.
“How far?”
“Six weeks.”
I pressed my forehead to hers.
“Are you okay?”
“Terrified.”
“Me too.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because if you said you weren’t, I’d worry.”
We stood under the city lights.
A year earlier, I had stood downstairs with a red handprint on my face.
Now my wife was telling me we were going to have a child.
Life did not erase what happened.
It built around it.
Sometimes beautifully.
Then Claire whispered, “There’s one problem.”
I panicked.
“What?”
“We have to tell my mother.”
I stared at her.
She smiled mischievously.
“Your face.”
“That was cruel.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No.”
We laughed until she leaned against me for support.
Then I put my hand over hers again.
“Our baby.”
May you like
“Our baby.”
I had never felt richer.
