“You weren’t invited.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s sort of the point.”
Irvin looked at me for a long moment. He’s known me for seventeen years. He knows when I’ve made up my mind.
“What are you going to do?” he asked carefully.
“I’m going to bring the hostess a gift,” I said.
“What kind of gift?”
I told him.
He was quiet for a long time. Then he took off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes.
“That’s either the meanest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, “or the kindest. I genuinely can’t tell which.”
“Me neither,” I said. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I spent the next week getting ready.
I went to the craft store and bought a big white gift box. The kind with a lid that comes all the way off. And a roll of wide blue ribbon. The same blue as the flowers on her invitation.
