The room started to feel too warm.
“Comfort, honesty, or five quiet minutes?” he asked.
“Five quiet minutes.”
“I’ll be near the desserts.”
I headed for the restroom.
That was where I found Betty.
She stood at the mirror, adjusting an earring.
“Five quiet minutes.”
Ten years had changed her, but not enough to make her difficult to recognize.
Her hair was shorter, and there were fine lines beside her eyes. However, she still carried herself as though the room would move around her.
She glanced at my reflection.
“That color looks beautiful on you.”
“Thank you.”
Ten years had changed her.
“I’m Betty.”
“I know.”
She smiled and returned to her lipstick.
“Everyone knows everyone tonight, I suppose.”
“Something like that.”
She capped the lipstick.
“I’m Betty.”
“It’s strange, though. People walk in with new hair or clothes and expect us to forget who they were.”
“People change.”
“Not that much.”
I met her eyes in the mirror.
Maybe they want a fresh start.”
Betty laughed softly.
“People change.”
