Page 92 of Hushed

“Hi,” a woman with strawberry blonde hair says, shaking my hand. “I’m Cara Finch. This is my photographer, Justin Davenport. I’m here for the Fairhaven Buzz. Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

I recognize Justin from the library, and smile at him. He has a camera bag over one shoulder and the look of a man who would like the floor to open. He mouths hey at me over her head.

“What is this Buzz?” my mother-in-law asks, looking over the rim of her glasses.

“It’s the student newspaper,” I supply. They give it away for free outside the dining hall. “Delphine, can I speak to you alone? Cara, Justin, can you head out to the living room for a second?”

“Hello?” Momma says behind me. “Do you take gay weddings? You do? When are you available?”

Cara presses on, tenaciously resisting my attempt to corral her into the living room. “Dr. Mercier reached out to me about your story and I wanted to get it from your perspective.”

“I would be happy to speak to you. In a moment. Please make yourself comfortable in the living room.” There, at least, the only two people to talk to are one who doesn’t speak English and the other one who doesn’t know what day it is. “Delphine!” I call.

She sighs and accompanies me out the front door, where we both stand in our stockinged feet on the front stoop. “Why did you invite the press?” I ask.

She frowns at me. “Stop thinking like a groom and start thinking like a soldier. I know you want to protect your beloved, but if you do not seize control of this story, it will seize control of you and it will make you its bitch.”

I open the front door again, because someone is calling for me. “Give me a minute.”

“And what good is it to bring the student news crew here? Nobody reads that, not even the students!”

She smiles at me. “Because these students are the allies you need. Not in the town. On the campus. Word is spreading already about what has been done to you.”

“How?” I cross my arms. “We don’t even know what’s just been done to us.”

“Certain people at certain places drop a few lines here and there.” She shrugs. “Word spreads.”

“When it’s planted.”

“I’m a useful friend, chéri. Do not underestimate me.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried. What do I even tell these people that won’t bite us both on the ass?”

“The truth in the most abstract way possible.” She opens the door. “We have concluded this conversation, correct?” she asks with a smile.

“Apparently, we have.”

“Everything okay?” Bastien asks when I come back in the door. He’s standing on the stairs. “Delphine, bienvenue! Ma famille est ici.”

“Honey, some interviewers from the Buzz are here,” I say. I gesture toward the living room.

“Hi,” the strawberry blonde says. “Cara Finch with the Buzz. Just a few questions.”

Bastien looks at me questioningly, and then at Delphine.

“Delphine thought it might be a good idea for us to get ahead of this story before it gets a life of its own.”

“And what do you think?” Bastien asks me.

“I think it’s your call.”

He looks at Cara. “I will speak to you, but I’m afraid that you caught us at a very difficult time. If you stay, I’m afraid you’ll be conscripted into putting this wedding together.”

Cara narrows her eyes and makes a mental calculation that plays across her face. “Tell you what. I will be off the record until our interview. But when you give it, you give me the exclusive.”

“Anything not covered by an NDA.”

“Deal.”