It was the money she had been setting aside for a coat.
Linda appeared for breakfast in a silk robe. When she saw her daughter-in-law dressed up, her mouth tightened.
“Why are you all dolled up?” she asked sharply. “You’ll be standing at the stove all day. Go change.”
“I have plans,” Anna said, holding out the envelope. “This is for you. An anniversary gift.”
Linda tore it open. Her eyes widened.
“A spa day? Anna, how sweet! But I can’t possibly go today. I have to keep an eye on the table, the guests…”
“Linda,” Anna said, sitting across from her and meeting her gaze without looking away, “don’t you want Susan to see you looking radiant? Just imagine how jealous she’ll be. Everyone will ask what you did to look so transformed. I’ll take care of the table myself. Don’t worry.”
Silence settled between them. Linda hesitated, her fingertips stroking the envelope. In the end, vanity won.
“Well… perhaps. Susan is always bragging about her cosmetologist anyway. Will Michael drive me?”
“Of course,” Anna replied, and called her husband.
Michael came out still half-asleep and clearly irritated. He listened, muttered his agreement, and thirty minutes later they were gone. The apartment fell quiet.
Anna went into the bedroom. From the closet she took a black dress she had bought the day before at a thrift store, along with a pair of heels. Then she called one of Megan’s acquaintances, a woman who sometimes worked as a makeup artist. By five in the evening, everything was ready: hair, makeup, dress. Anna looked at her reflection and barely recognized herself.
She looked alive.
She never once entered the kitchen.
The guests began arriving at half past six. Carol, a heavyset woman with a booming voice, was the first to step into the living room. She stopped short.
The table had been arranged flawlessly. A white tablecloth lay smooth, without a single crease. Candles stood in place. Crystal glasses sparkled. Silverware had been set for eight. Everything was exactly where it belonged.
There was no food.
“Anna, where are the… appetizers?” Carol asked, turning toward her.
“It’s a surprise,” Anna said with a smile. “We’re waiting for the guests of honor.”
The others arrived soon after: Linda’s friends, Michael’s coworkers. They came dressed up, carrying flowers and gifts. One by one, they took their seats, exchanged puzzled looks, and stared at the empty table. Someone made a joke about a trendy diet. A few people laughed, but the sound came out strained.
Anna poured mineral water into glasses. She smiled. And waited.
At seven, Michael returned with his mother. Linda swept into the entryway glowing: her skin fresh after the facial, her hair styled in soft waves, her manicure perfect. She slipped off her coat and moved into the living room.
Then she froze.
An empty table. Eight guests sitting there with confusion written across their faces. Anna in a black dress, holding a glass of water.
“What… what is this?!” Linda’s voice cracked, rising toward a shriek.