Jesse waves to me from one of the emerald couches. My mom already removes her tissues from her Louis Vuitton purse. The Oliveira family turns more to view us in the middle. Farrow, Maximoff, Ripley, and Jane and Thatcher have stopped talking, programs in their hands as they face us. Even the Calloway sisters and their husbands watch. Oscar’s brows furrow. He notices. He’s too observant for this charade to last long.
