Nobody asked what I wanted.

Nobody offered me a glass of the two-hundred-dollar wine they were pouring freely for everyone else.

When the server brought a third bottle, my sister-in-law caught my eye across the table, gave me a small complicit wink, and told him, warmly, to put it on the master tab, and a soft ripple of laughter went around the alcove, and I smiled back at her, and I wrote the moment down in the part of my mind that was already keeping the only record that was going to matter.

I was not writing anything down.