Page 2 of Buttons

“Oh, no, I work.” I laugh. “Managing Julian’s calendar, our household, and our children is more than a full-time position. He might be the CEO, but I’m the COO of everything else.”

Williams laughs, but Julian’s hand stills against my back.

I’ve said something wrong.

“Speaking of which,” I say, seizing the pause, “I should check on Leo and Meredith.”

Julian’s relief is palpable as he releases me. At these functions, I’m expected to circulate independently long enough to demonstrate independence, but short enough that I don’t develop separate allegiances.

I head to the side room. The children’s room is significantly warmer. Leo sits cross-legged on the carpet, building a castle from blocks. He’s wearing the tiny navy blazer Julian selected, but he’s already removed the tie and folded it beside him.

“Mama!” Meredith launches herself at my legs. “The boy with the red hair said my dress was ugly, but I told him it was just his opinion.”

“Good for you,” I say, crouching. Meredith has my button nose and my stubbornness, though hers comes without the filtering system I’ve developed.

“I didn’t tell him, but his opinion is wrong.”

She squeezes my hand before scampering off to charm the bartender for more juice. I approach Leo slowly. Up close, I see he’s building a structure with multiple levels and a moat of blue blocks.

“That’s quite a castle,” I say, sitting on the expensive carpet as gracefully as I can in a dress.

“It’s not a castle,” he corrects without looking up. “It’s a home. For the blocks who don’t fit anywhere else.”

The simple logic of his words pricks at a place I’ve tried to keep numb.

“What makes them not fit?”

Leo stares at me, serious. “They’re different shapes. See?” He points to a triangular block nestled between two square ones. “The triangle doesn’t match, but it still needs somewhere to go.”

I reach over and straighten his collar to hide the emotion trying to escape me. He’s nine years old, but somehow already understands something about belonging that I’m still trying to grasp.

“Your nose is like mine,” Leo says suddenly. “We match.”

My hand flies to my face. The button nose. The feature I spent years contouring before giving up.

“When did you notice that?”

He shrugs. “Always. Meredith has it, too. It’s our family nose.”

Our family nose. This feature I’ve spent decades disliking connects us. Glancing at Leo’s profile, I suddenly see it as precious.

“It is our family nose,” I agree quietly.

Leo places a final red square at the top. “There. Now everyone has somewhere to go.”

“Perfect.”

Julian arrives. He nods at our children, but before he even speaks, he reaches down and nudges a single blue block a fraction of an inch to the left, aligning its edge perfectly. Once he’s done, I grab a napkin from my clutch and give it to him so he can wipe his hands. “Mm-hmm. It’s perfect,” I repeat.

“David Morrison just arrived,” Julian murmurs as he leads us back toward the business party. I smooth my hair and prepare to be helpful.

We find Morrison near the bar. “David, wonderful to see you,” Julian says. “You remember Elowen.”

“Ah, yes,” Morrison says to me after the introductions. “I spoke to you last week over the phone. I think I’d spoken to Veronica first, but then you quickly took over after she accidentally hung up when trying to transfer the phone.”

“Her name is Virginia, and I do apologize about that. We hired her to handle secretary work for Julian, but she hasn’t caught on quite yet.”

“Take it you fired her, then?”