He found Mirella’s hand and squeezed it. She wanted to wrench her hand away from his, but she let him hold her hand, swallowing her fingers into his palm. He wanted to share the moment with her, she knew, wanted to say with his hand over her hand, This is our life. Mirella waited for the applause to die down, for their guests to turn back to each other and their drinks and the music, the Mingus still playing, too many horns bleating and competing. When they did, she squeezed Ralph’s hand so he would release her.
