I wore one of the dresses he’d bought me in Vancouver, sleeveless black one with a skirt that fell half an inch from the floor. The neckline so low it required a special bra that had been hanging with it. He requested I wear it, and it was magnificent.
I covered the yellowing bruises with a little makeup, draping hair, and whatever accessories I could gather. I wouldn’t stand up to a forensics team, but at night, in a dark party, maybe I wouldn’t have to crack a joke or tell a lie.
I’d wanted to take my own car, but Jonathan insisted on letting Lil drive, so I waited on my porch for the Bentley. It was exactly on time. Lil let Jonathan out the back. He wore a navy suit and a tie of darkest pink. His shirt was white and pressed, and he was perfect. I started down the porch steps, and he held up his hand.
“Come on, Monica. Give a guy a chance to get you at the door.”
I stopped and waited. He opened the chain-link fence that seemed cheap and worn next to his cleanly pressed self. He walked up the short, cracked concrete that led to my broken wooden steps.
“Are you ready?” he asked, taking my hand.
“It’s just a party.”
“No, it’s going to be ugly.”
I kissed him once on the lips. “I’ve been to high school.”
“The stakes are higher.”
“I’m not staying home. I got all dressed up.”
“Ah, speaking of...” He removed a long, thin box from his pocket. I recognized the Harry Winston dark blue.
“Jesus, Jonathan, you’re going overboard.”
“Yes. I am. I don’t have a viola.” I took the box. Cursing him out while I was smiling would be hard. I undid the ribbon. He took it and rolled it around his fingers. When I looked at him quizzically, he said, “Might need this later.”
“If the ribbon is the real gift, you could save a ton of money by just getting me empty boxes.”
I lifted the top. Inside the box, a flat platinum chain curled around itself. I pulled it out. It wasn’t a loop connected at the end but a long strand. It had to be five feet long, with jewel-encrusted drops the size of blackberries. One sparkled with sapphires, the other, emeralds.
“A lariat,” I said. “My God, it’s beautiful. Can you put it on me?”
He looped the strand around my neck once, draping it so the jeweled drops fell just below my breasts. “Green emeralds for sea. Blue sapphires for sky.”
“Thank you.” I kissed him. “It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“You’re going to make it tough for me at Christmas.”
“We’ll figure out some kind of trade.”
“And don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.” I pulled the strand on one side, looped it around my neck a second time, and pulled tight. The smooth, flat links clicked against one another, easily tightening around my throat. “Makes a lovely collar.”
He laughed. Taking the blue drop, he unlooped it and rearranged the necklace until it was loose. “Let’s not rush.” He took my hand, and we went to the car.