Theo found his mother already in the blue dress, sitting on the edge of the bed while Bill tried to fasten her necklace.
“It's very small,” Bill said.
“It's a clasp.”
“I know what it is. I'm objecting to the scale.”
Sue looked up when Theo came in. She smiled, and he wanted to turn around before he had to change her face.
“You're not dressed.”
“There's time.”
“Your father said that forty minutes ago.”
Bill stood behind her with the necklace hanging between his fingers. He'd put on trousers and the shirt he wore when people might take photographs, but his feet remained bare. Theo came across and held out his hand.
“Let me.”
His father gave him the two ends with relief. Theo stood behind Sue, seeing the fine hair at the back of her neck, the little red mark where her jacket had pressed earlier. He worked the clasp until it caught. She touched the necklace and thanked him.
In the mirror their eyes met. His mother looked pleased, hopeful, still expecting the rest of the day to justify the care she'd taken.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
She turned, one hand at her throat.
“What's wrong?”
He sat on the chair opposite. Bill looked at him, then at Sue, and remained standing by the bed.
“Mara and I aren't getting back together.”
Sue blinked. “I know the wedding's off.”
“I know you do. I mean the relationship. We talked this afternoon. We're not resuming it.”
She lowered her hand from the necklace. The dress made a small sound as she shifted on the bed.
“Right.”
Bill sat beside her. It was a considerate move, or an attempt to recover access to his socks. Theo couldn't tell, and for once didn't have room to laugh about it.
“I made it easier for you to think we might,” he said. “Yesterday. About the room and the music.”
Sue looked at him steadily.
“You did.”
He nodded.
“I wanted it to be possible. I let you hear that without telling you what we hadn't agreed.”
“You told me to see how today felt.”
“Yes.”
“It sounded hopeful.”
“It was. I was.”
The room was hot despite the curtains being partly closed. His mother had the small fan on the dressing table; it stood switched off beside a folded speech. Theo saw the paper and then looked away.
“And now you're not,” Sue said.
He rubbed his thumb against his palm, searching for the part of the answer he could make sound kind without changing it.
“I'm sad,” he said. “I still love her. But we've decided.”
“Together?”
“Together.”
His mother drew a breath. He knew the thought approaching, the one which made together an answer she might regard as only half reliable.
“Are you sure that's what you want?” she asked.
“It's what we've chosen.”
“That wasn't quite my question.”
“I know.”
She looked down at her hands. Bill reached for a sock on the bed and then left it where it was.
“You've looked so happy,” Sue said.
“We have been.”
“I've watched you all week. I'm not inventing it.”
“No.”
“She's been happy too.”
Theo nodded. He could still feel Mara's face against his chest, wet through the shirt in one small place. He wanted his mother to believe the week had been good. He did not want to spend the next hour supplying enough pain to convince her that leaving it was real.
“We're having the party,” he said. “We want that.”
Sue glanced toward the folded paper.
“And I'm supposed to know what sort of party that is.”
“Food. Music. People we like.”
“I know the menu, Theo.”
He fell quiet. She had every right to be cross with him. He'd given her the easy thing yesterday because he wanted to go back to the possibility of Mara rather than remain in a room where his mother expected something he could not promise. Now he was here anyway, with fewer ways to make her feel better.
Bill said, “We can still have a good evening.”
Sue turned to him. “I haven't said we can't.”
“No.”
“And don't say it in that voice. As if I've decided to ruin the whole thing because I bought a dress.”
“I wasn't—”
“I know.”
Bill looked at his son, then picked up the sock and began putting it on. The conversation continued without his supervision.
“What did you want me to do yesterday?” Sue asked.
Theo looked at her.
“When you told me. Did you want me to be pleased?”
He thought about the lobby, his phone lit with the confirmation, the smile he'd watched arrive.
“Yes,” he said.
“Well, I was.”
“I'm sorry.”
She looked at him for another moment, then turned toward the mirror. The back of her dress had creased where she'd sat. She stood to smooth it and remained facing the dressing table.
Theo stayed in the chair. A faster apology would not give her back yesterday. He waited while she adjusted the necklace he'd just fastened.
“Does Janette know?” she asked.
“Not from me.”
His mother shut her eyes briefly.
“I didn't tell her there was a wedding,” she said.
“I know.”
“I did say things seemed better.”
“They did.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He accepted the edge. Bill stood and put on his shoes, making more noise than laces required.
“I'll tell people before the music,” Theo said. “Just a short thing. So nobody's waiting for something else.”
Sue turned back.
“You don't need to make a speech about it.”
“No. A few words.”
“People have come a long way.”
“They know we weren't marrying.”
“I know that.”
Her voice rose slightly, then she pressed her lips together. Theo waited. She was not arguing about the canceled ceremony. She was trying to keep the day she'd imagined from shrinking while she stood in the dress she still wanted to wear.
“I had things to say,” she told him.
He looked toward the paper.
“I know.”
“Not all of them were about grandchildren.”
“I know that too.”
“You were a nice little boy. You still are, most of the time.”
He laughed, though his throat made the sound uneven. His mother's eyes were wet now, and she looked annoyed by the fact.
“I wanted to say that properly.”
“You can tell me.”
“I have. You haven't always listened.”
He nodded. She picked up a tissue from the box beside the mirror and pressed it carefully at the corner of one eye, trying not to remove whatever she'd spent the afternoon putting there.
“I like Mara,” she said.
“She likes you.”
His mother gave him a doubtful look.
“Quite often,” he added.
Sue laughed despite herself. It lasted a moment, then she folded the tissue.
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say to her.”
“You could tell her she looks lovely.”
“She will.”
“Yes.”
“I saw the dress.”
He smiled. His mother looked again at the speech on the table, then put her tissue beside it. She did not tear the paper up or hand it to him for disposal. It remained hers.
“Are you still going tomorrow?” she asked.
“Both of us. On the original flight.”
“What about the night you've paid for?”
“We won't use it.”
She drew a breath to object to the waste. He could see her stop because the room had already held enough things she wanted to object to.
“All right,” she said.
Theo stood. His mother looked at him, and he wasn't sure whether going nearer would be welcome. Then she held out a hand, the same practical gesture she'd used yesterday while changing shoes.
He took it. She pulled him toward her and put her arms around him, careful of the necklace, less careful of his shirt.
“I wanted it for you,” she said.
“I know.”
“That's all.”
It wasn't all. He did not need to correct her. He held her while Bill found the room key and waited by the door.
When Sue let go, she touched the place on Theo's chest where she'd creased the fabric.
“Go and get changed.”
“Yes.”
“And don't leave it till the last minute.”
“There's time.”
She looked at him, then at Bill.
“Apparently inherited.”
Bill opened the door for Theo, smiling with enough uncertainty to show he wasn't claiming the conversation had gone well. In the corridor he touched his son's arm.
“I'm going to find a drink,” he said.
“A sensible plan.”
“I'll get your mother one too.”
Theo nodded. They parted at the stairs.
Outside, the evening was beginning to change the light. Somebody had turned on the huge letters for a test; even in daylight they glowed with unreasonable confidence. He stood looking at them for a moment. His father could still try the O. His mother could still wear gold shoes. Mara could still laugh at something nobody else understood.
He wanted the party now with an urgency which had nothing to do with getting the difficult conversations finished. He wanted to get dressed and find her before their guests did.
At the villa, the shower had stopped. Mara called from the bedroom when she heard the gate.
“Can you help with the button?”
“Yes,” he said.
He went inside.