Mara answered the door with a piece of bread in her hand.
“That's lunch?” Tess asked.
“There's cheese.”
“Where?”
“I ate it.”
Tess came in and found the cheese still wrapped on the counter. Mara smiled sheepishly. Sunday midday light filled the kitchen, making every little patch of flour and pencil dust visible.
“Sit,” Tess said. “I'll make you something.”
“You don't need to feed me.”
“I need a sandwich myself.”
That was true. She had slept late after the evening at Cal's and woken still cross, with nothing to eat except cereal she didn't want. She put her coat over the chair and made two sandwiches badly. Mara stood beside her, adding slices of cheese whenever Tess left a gap.
“More there.”
“Then there's less on yours.”
“We'll cut them in half.”
They did. Mara took one half from each plate and exchanged them. Tess hadn't realised how much she had been waiting for something this ordinary.
They ate by the window. Ben was out, and for once there were no place cards between their plates.
“He reserved the ring,” Tess said.
Mara looked down. “I know.”
“Cal talked to him.”
“Ben said.”
Tess put her bread down. “I didn't ask him to. Cal, I mean.”
“All right.”
Mara didn't look angry with her for that. Tess had been so ready to defend herself that the absence of an accusation left her with nowhere to go.
“Do you want Ben?” she asked.
Mara looked up at once. “Yes.”
“I mean the marriage. Not just—”
“Yes, Tess. I want him. I want to marry him.”
“And the two days. Is that just because of what I did? The ring?”
“Yes.”
Tess watched her face. Mara looked tired, not frightened. She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed it, then set it down.
“I was happy,” she said. “I was making plans. Then you came back and told me you'd taken it.”
“I know.”
“I don't want to feel bad when I look at you on the day.”
Tess lowered her eyes.
Mara touched the back of her hand. “I don't mean you shouldn't be there.”
“It sounded a bit like that.”
“I know. Sorry.”
She squeezed Tess's fingers. Tess let her. It was the first time since Thursday she had felt able to hold on without asking Mara for something.
“I was thinking of asking Cal to come,” Tess said.
“You can.”
“There isn't a place now.”
“There will be if we have lunch instead. Ben showed me the little room.”
“Do you like it?”
“I like the window.”
Tess smiled. “That's what I said.”
Mara leaned back. “It might be nice. Less running around.”
She looked toward the hall, where the garment bag containing her dress hung against the door. Tess followed her gaze.
“Do you want to try it again?”
Mara hesitated. “Now?”
“I'm here. If the back sticks I can rescue you.”
“You always say that before you get something stuck.”
“Once,” Tess said.
Mara laughed. Tess remembered the ring and looked down at her plate. Mara stopped laughing.
Tess got up and took their plates to the sink. When she turned back, Mara was standing in the hall with the dress over her arm.
“Help me, then.”
They went into the bedroom. Tess unzipped the dress bag and held the fabric away from the floor while Mara stepped into it. The back fastened with a row of tiny buttons. Tess had done them before, but today her fingers were clumsy.
“Am I pulling?”
“No. You're pinching.”
“Sorry.”
“It's fine. The fabric, not me.”
Tess slowed down. Mara stood in front of the mirror, looking over her shoulder. By the time the last button was through, Tess's fingertips hurt.
“There.”
Mara turned.
Tess had seen the dress twice before. It still surprised her: simple across the shoulders, soft through the skirt, a bit of light on the small buttons. Mara seemed taller in it, and younger, and very much herself.
“You look lovely,” Tess said.
Mara smiled. She took a careful step, then another, and caught the skirt with one hand.
“It's too long without the shoes.”
Tess fetched them. One was caught behind a box. She got it free, then put both on the floor with their heels together, as if they were waiting for inspection.
Mara stepped into them and stood straight.
Tess picked up a folded scarf and draped it over her own head. She made the rigid wedding face, slower this time, with a solemn turn toward the mirror.
Mara snorted.
“Stop. I'll split something.”
Tess turned the other way, holding her chin stiff. Mara caught her elbow, and for a moment they leaned against each other laughing.
The scarf slipped over Tess's eyes. She tried to keep smiling through it and walked into the edge of the bed. Mara pulled it off her head.
“You idiot,” she said fondly.
Tess rubbed her shin. She was happy for a few seconds without knowing what to do with that happiness.
Later they sat at the kitchen table cutting the ribbon lengths Tess had begun on Thursday. They put aside the extras for whoever might need them and made six neat bundles instead of twelve. Mara held one end while Tess tied; their hands knew how to work together.
When Tess reached for the next piece, Mara put a half sandwich beside her.
“You left this.”
“So did you.”
“We can finish it.”
They ate a quarter each and went back to the ribbon.