"It was always going to be Rosalie's," Graham said quietly. "From the minute she climbed on my lap. I just wanted it to be from you. I wanted you to get to ring the doorbell." He pushed his glasses up his nose, and this time Gina knew, she knew, exactly what it meant. "I'm sorry I lied. I should have just told you. I should have said, 'Gina, I have a surprise, and I'm not going to tell you what it is, and you'll have to trust me.' That's what I should have said. That was the truth. I just didn't know if you would."
"I wouldn't have," said Gina. "I'd have torn your closet apart."
"I know. That's why I hid it."
"You hid it in the coat closet."
"I didn't think it through."
"You hid it in the first place any Italian woman would look!"
"I'm Episcopalian," said Graham helplessly. "We don't hang up our coats. We just put them on a chair and feel bad about it."
Behind the dining room door, someone — it sounded like Aunt Philomena — let out a snort and was shushed.