Alex spent the day preparing herself at home. In spite of everything the town had been through, she wanted to have a party to celebrate her success and healing.

Lillian Stockton was thrilled to hear it and wanted to turn the whole affair into some kind of debutante affair. She sent out black tie invitations and hired a woman to come do Alex's hair and makeup. The artist appeared gaudy with her eyelashes as thick as a muppet's and her lips shiny like wax. She put Alex's hair in large, loose curls, pinned up like a lady of Verona. As the woman finished doing Alex's base and reached for a pink powder puff, Alex made it a point to tell her, "No blush, thank you."

The woman shook her head. "Sweetheart, we don't want you to look like a ghost."

"I want to look like myself."

The makeup artist finished quickly after that. She left and Alex waited in silence, staring at herself in the mirror. Her mother brought in her Vera Wang dress with a silk slip.

Alex asked for privacy. She waited doe her mother to be gone. After she zipped herself up, she reached into her pillowcase and found some oxy. One little pill and she would banish the dark shadow looming over the evening.

The scraps of rabbit food left her brain running in circles, going back to Liam. One little pill and she could stop caring.

But she couldn't break her sobriety. She stuffed the pill back inside her pillow. Treatment was behind her. She wanted to move forward not backward.

There was a knock and then her mother entered.

"Oh, Alexandria! You look like a doll!" said Lillian, pinching Alex's cheeks into a natural blush.

Alex looked at herself in the mirror, checking if she still had henna on her back. The faint lines of the stain remained, tracing out the dangerous symbol. The capped sleeves made her feel covered, but she fingered the delicate sheer ruffle on the plunging neckline.

"Mom," she said, face turned red.

"Oh, honey. What's wrong?"

Alex hugged her mother and hid her face in her shoulder. She shook as she tried not to ruin her makeup.

"Shh." Her mother rubbed her hand gently against Alex's back. "It's just a party. Just say hello, eat a piece of cake and have a glass of champagne at midnight."

"I can't drink," Alex said, blinking back tears. "Rules of treatment." She sniffled until her sinuses were clear. She checked her makeup in the mirror, took a tissue, and dabbed the corners of her eyes.

Mrs. Stockton picked up a jewelry box that was on the bed and handed it to her. Inside was a thin antique gold chain with a pearl clasp in the back. Instead of a pendant, there was a cameo, an oval portrait of Edmund Leighton's painting The Accolade.

"I thought about getting you diamonds or Japanese pearls, but when I saw this, I realized it would mean more to you."

"It's exactly what I like." Alex said. "Thank you, Mom."

Lillian squeezed Alex tight. She clasped the necklace around her neck.

The doorbell rang. Alex took her mother's hands in hers. "Oh God! It's got to be Tom. I'm nervous."

"Ha!" her mother cried. "Nervous over a silly boy? That's where the champagne helps."

Lillian went ahead out of Alex's room, opening the door downstairs.

Alex peeked from the top of the stairs. Standing in the entryway, lit up by the brilliance of the chandelier, was Tom in his best suit, which was rather shabby and tailored to a different body shape.

Alex descended the staircase, her chiffon floating up around her ankles. She landed clumsily on the bottom step as she nearly tripped over her hem. Her heart dropped like a gumball in her chest. "This is so weird," she said.

"You look beautiful." He fumbled with a corsage of poppies and black roses. He slipped it on her wrist and her heart trilled in her chest.

Lillian interrupted them with her throat clearing. "Let's go. We don't want to be late to your own party."

"Okay," Alex said, taking Tom's hand.

He drove her to the clubhouse in his white ford while Lillian and Max followed behind in a Mercedes.

The entrance to the clubhouse had been rerouted through the garden. Her mother wanted everyone to appreciate the Tiffany roses.

Alex pointed them out to Tom along with the Japanese moon bridge her father had paid to have built as well as the coy pond that didn't have any coy. Tom let Alex know those things meant nothing to him. He was just happy to be there with her. They found the party on the patio behind the clubhouse.

A semi-circle of round tables dotted the edge of the stone pavers. Beneath an ocean of Christmas lights, every decoration was pristinely white. The table cloths, silk ribbons, chair covers, and flowers. There was no pigment in anything, save a faint peach hue peeking up from a few of the roses.

On a platform a foot off the ground, a live quartet played a Simon & Garfunkel composition, violins and viola singing out as the cellist plucked his strings in an eclectic arrangement of "Flowers Never Bend in the Rainfall."

Alex greeted couple after couple of her parents' friends. She saw Tom's father Carl Scarboro standing next to the Mayor. His face was as serious as ever as the two exchanged words. In one hand he held an amber cocktail.

Alex went to speak with him. When he saw her, he bowed his head.

"Miss Stockton."

"Detective Scarboro," she replied, curtseying swiftly. "It's good to see you. A girl always feels safer with a detective closeby."

"Alex. Have you seen Nathan lately?"

"No. We don't talk so much anymore."

Carl smiled, but his words contradicted the sentiment. "I want you to be careful. Just keep your distance for a while."

"Why?" Alex demanded.

"People are missing. Jacob's mother. I can't imagine any leverage that would give Liam at this point. And she was afraid of Nathan. Just be wary. If you see anything odd, call me." He handed her his business card, which she tucked into her dress pocket. "Enjoy your evening." He nodded curtly, meandering in another direction.

Alex tried to follow the detective, but her cousin Pearl intercepted her. She wore a bold red dress and her yellow hair was tightly wound into ringlets.

"Pearly!" Alex cheered. The cousins embraced.

"Darling!" Pearl cried back at her, her voice so heavy with vowels that it made Alex cringe. Pearl touched the beaded appliqué on Alex's skirt. "Your dress reminds me of pageantry."

"And yours, quite a statement."

Now that the backhanded compliments were exchanged, they could be on their way. However Pearl slipped in a second little dig. "I'm surprised your boyfriend isn't here," she whispered.

"He's here," Alex said, pointing to Tom who was leaning quite frumpily against the patio fence.

Pearl tittered. "You never could keep your hands off those fencing instructors."

Alex smiled and walked away without another breath wasted.

Just as she thought she would surely die if she had to be polite to another person, the Christmas lights sputtered out. A gasp swept through the crowd and Alex felt an old panic burst in her chest. Was it Liam? Had he come to claim her for Baphomet? He had put the eye of Solomon on her back. He would come to claim her for the fire. She had escaped his wrath.

To her great relief, the orbs flickered back on. Everyone seemed to exhale as the tension released. A simple brown out had put all of them on edge. Alex crossed the tiled lotus on the patio floor toward Tom. He took her into a dance embrace and they swayed gently. Just as she was losing herself in the beautiful Simon & Garfunkel cover, the band started to play a Virginia reel.

"Oh no," Alex gasped, laughing. "We should get off the dance floor right now."

"What's happening?"

"It's about to get very strange."

Alex's family and family friends swarmed the dance floor, lining up in a long chain.

The couples stepped forward, bobbed and diverged and each couple took a turn in a locked embrace as they came skipping down the middle of the line. Alex took Tom's  hand and pulled him away with her, through the low iron gate and into the garden.

"This way!" she whispered, laughing with him.

Once they were away from the party lights, she gave chase, running up the red path of the tall moon bridge. The full moon illuminated the surface of the lawn, the edge of the forest and the glossy surface of the pond beneath her. Everything was a luminescent blue, all except the brightly painted bridge. The garden glowed with an opalescent light. They could hear the low volume of Lillian delivering a speech from a microphone.

Tom caught Alex around the waist and pulled her in against him. She wanted this moment to last forever. She leaned away only so she could brush back his yellow hair.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said. "I've been going through some stuff lately."

"I'm sure... I wish I knew what to say. I'm so glad you're okay after what happened."

"Yeah."

They smiled. But deep down Alex felt a secret sadness that he would not kiss her. Did he still look at her and see victim?

"Tom..." she said. "I like you. A lot. God, that sounds so juvenile. I just want you to know that I'm ready. I'm doing a lot better."

"Yeah," he said. "I like you too, Alex. I think we give this a shot, see where it goes."

She touched his jawline, closed her eyes and brought her lips against his. Tom pressed against her, his arms encompassing her waist. As she pulled away to see his blue eyes staring back at her, she discovered how easy it was to love him, how happily her heart knelt to his.

_____________
Music: "Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall" Simon & Garfunkel