Final Option

off in search of Stephen.
    I found him standing in front of the diorama of penguins, dead and long-stuffed, that had decorated the same frozen, arctic scene since before I was born. He looked sleek and in his element. The front of his shirt and the flash of his smile were the whitest things in the room. He slipped his arm around my waist briefly in greeting.
    “You made it, Kate,” he said. “You know Ed and Happy Lassar.”
    I extended my hand to the real-estate developer and expressed myself pleased to see the most recent Mrs. Lassar. A waiter passed with a tray filled with champagne glasses, and Stephen procured one for me.
    “I was just telling Stephen that we’re all a little surprised to see Krissy Chilcote here tonight,” Happy whispered confidingly. I looked over the socialite’s shoulder and, sure enough, there was Barton Jr.’s sister, looking palely pretty in a gown of black point d’esprit lace surrounded by a gaggle of sympathetic friends. “I know she’s one of the co-chairmen, but still, I don’t even think they’ve had the funeral yet.”
    “My impression is that Krissy has always done exactly what she’s wanted from the time she was a little girl,” remarked her husband kindly. “I don’t think her father would expect her to do any differently now.”
    “I don’t know,” replied his wife. “From what I hear about her, it seems more likely that she couldn’t stand the thought of the party going on without her.”
    “You know, I haven’t had a chance to look at the silent auction items,” I interjected, feeling awkward gossiping about the Hexters. Stephen made a graceful excuse, and we proceeded to the geology wing, where long tables covered with donated items were arranged. Beside each item was a sheet of paper for bidders to write the dollar amount of their offer.
    “You look very pretty in that dress,” remarked Stephen as we browsed through the various displays— tickets to the symphony, dinners at restaurants, trips, jewelry, and art objects—all donated to raise money for arthritis research. “Is it new?”
    “Very,” I replied. “I'm sorry I was late. This Hexter business is taking all of my time.”
    “At least you seem to have freed Krissy up.”
    “You really are offended that she’s here,” I commented.
    “It certainly doesn’t look very good. Her father was just murdered, and she’s out at a party. Do they know who shot him yet?”
    “No. I’ve tried to reach the detective in charge of the case a couple of times today, but he’s always out, so he still must be investigating something.” It didn’t seem right somehow, standing in my evening gown, to tell him that that something was probably me.
    “I really feel for the family,” said Stephen. Stephen’s niece had died recently—under the worst of circumstances—and his face was momentarily clouded over in remembrance. Then something caught his eye, and he bent over the auction table. “This bracelet is very nice,” he said, picking it up. “Here, give me your hand.” I extended it as instructed and Stephen fastened the bracelet around my wrist. It was a series of oval sapphires in a platinum setting. In between each stone was an x of smaller diamonds. “I like the design,” continued Stephen admiringly.
    “It’s called hugs and kisses,” I replied, feeling strangely self-conscious. “You see, x’s and o’s. My mother has one like it.”
    “What do you think of it?” he asked.
    “It’s very pretty.”
    “Then let me buy it for you.”
    “No, Stephen. That’s very sweet of you. But the only jewelry I ever wear is my wedding ring.”
    “But this suits you. Let me at least put a bid on it. After all,” he added apologetically, “it’s for a good cause.”
    Unable to give words to my internal discomfort— first Mother’s revelation about Chicago Magazine, now this—I said nothing. Stephen wrote down his bid, and we moved on.
    We spent the rest of the cocktail hour making the rounds of the arthritis specialists who’d turned out for the fund-raiser. Stephen’s company, Azor Pharmaceuticals, had just released a new anti-inflammatory drug called Fizac, which had shown itself to be dramatically effective in cases of juvenile arthritis. Stephen’s attendance at the Arthritis Foundation Gala fit into his company’s public relations agenda. I followed along from rheumatologist to rheumatologist, hopefully looking decorative, listening to Stephen charm the doctors.
    At a