"Hello?" I say as I wipe my feet on their sisal mat. My heart is pounding at the thought of Ben being on the other side.

"Come in! Come in!" I hear Annie trill.

I push open the door and put my gift-an engraved silver cup-on a table in the front hall. I look in the living room, and see that we are among the first guests to arrive. I feel an odd mix of disappointment and relief when I see no sign of Ben. For the first time it occurs to me that perhaps he's not coming. Maybe he's avoiding me. Maybe he's out of town. Maybe he's vacationing with Tucker. Maybe I should have just asked Annie.

"Claudia, honey!" Annie squeals. She is holding Raymond Jr. at her hip, but hugs me with her free hand. I can't believe how much he's changed in just a few months. He has moved beyond the tiny, chicken-legged newborn stage and is now in the alert, chunky, Gerber-baby stage. Babies are such a tangible reminder of the quick passage of time, but I resist the urge to comment on how much he's grown. I don't want to highlight what a neglectful friend I've been.

"Hey, Annie!" I say, kissing my friend's cheek before I turn my attention back to her son. He is wearing a cream linen jumper with a Peter Pan collar that is probably more expensive than most of my outfits. Annie is like a European when it comes to clothing-she has very few items in her closet, but all of them are extremely high quality.

I raise my voice a few octaves and say, "Hi, there, Raymond!"

I always feel self-conscious, almost foolish, when I talk to babies or very young children to whom I'm not related. Raymond scowls and looks away, burying his face in his mother's shoulder with an accompanying death grip to her elbow. It's as if he knows the truth about me-that I ended my marriage to avoid one of him. Don't they say babies and dogs can sense things about people?

Annie glances eagerly in Richard's direction just as I say, "Annie, I'd like you to meet my friend Richard. Richard-this is Annie and Raymond."

Richard says, "It's so good to meet you, Annie." Then he pats Raymond on his bottom, making that rustling Pampers sound. "Hey, buddy! How you doin'?"

Raymond Jr. holds firm. He will not be tricked.

"Nice to meet you, Richard," Annie says, her eyes flickering with curiosity. I offered her no details over the phone, nor did she ask me any questions. I could tell it took all of her willpower to not delve beyond, "So? Things are good?" I told her that they were. Now I have my proof: a distinguished, older man.

Richard and Annie make small talk, which consists mostly of Annie asking Richard a series of questions. What do you do? Oh, so you work together? How long have you been there? Where are you from? He answers pleasantly, though minimally, and asks a few questions of his own as Ray joins us with a "Well, well, what have we here?" look on his face.

I can tell right away that Ray does not approve of my guest. Which could mean a variety of things. It could mean that he is sad that his dear friends are no longer together. It could mean that he is feeling protective of Ben. Or it could mean that he thinks I'm sort of a jerk for introducing any hint of controversy into his son's special day. I am starting to feel as if the latter is most likely.

I wonder if Annie gave Ray any advance warning. Surely she did. Then again, I'm sure she's had other things on her mind, like the all-encompassing care of a new baby. Perhaps she is so consumed with her son that she and her husband rarely find time to talk anymore.

I watch Ray introduce himself to Richard with what appears to be an aggressive handshake. Then he turns to me and says, "Good to see you, Claudia." There is something aloof in his expression, and I find myself thinking that our friends could be taking sides. Ben's side.

"Nice to see you, too," I say. "Congratulations on Raymond's big day."

Annie fills the ensuing lull with a beverage offer. Richard glances over at the makeshift bar set up on the other side of the room and tells Annie thanks, but he'll just help himself. "Does anyone want anything?"

I spot a half-dozen bottles of champagne set up like trusty soldiers and nod. It is only eleven, but I am definitely ready for a drink. "Whatever you're having is fine," I tell Richard, knowing how couple-y my words are.

Ray's face suddenly lights up as he belts out an "Uncle Ben's in the house!"

I inhale sharply but keep my eyes straight ahead, fixed on Raymond Jr. I know it's not possible for a six-month-old to know what's going on, but I swear that baby of Annie's turns, sneers at me, and then smiles at Ben who I can feel standing directly beside me. Close enough for him to smell my perfume-because I am breathing in his natural scent-one that I didn't quite realize Ben had. Sort of like coming home after a long vacation and realizing that your apartment really does have a unique smell.

Ben leans in to kiss the top of Raymond's head. He makes no comments about how much the baby has grown. Clearly he's come around a time or two.

Then he turns to me and says, "Hi, Claudia."

I exhale and allow myself to make one second of eye contact. He looks exactly the same. He looks like Ben. My Ben.

"Hi," I say. My voice sounds funny, and I feel a sudden shot of weakness. Physical weakness where my knees feel as if they might give. I try to smile, but can't. I'm not sure what to do with my hands. I wish I already had my drink. Annie and Ray exchange a glance and then slip away to greet other guests.

"How are you?" I manage to say as my eyes fall on Ben's bare left ring finger.

"I'm fine. You?" he says.

I tell Ben I'm fine, too, as I watch Richard out of the corner of my eye. He turns, observes me with Ben, and then turns back toward the window, a flute of champagne in each hand. He sips from one. He must know that I'm talking to my ex-husband.

"It's good to see you," Ben says sincerely.

"You, too," I say. It is.

"I'm glad you came," he says. "I wasn't sure if you would."

I glance at Richard again who is still staring out the window.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," I say.

"Oh, well, I'm actually Raymond's… uh, godfather," he says earnestly.

"Oh. I didn't know," I say. "What an honor."

"Yeah," Ben says. "It is pretty cool."

I smile as I feel an insane rush of what feels pretty close to high school jealousy. Like the feeling I had when my best friend Pam was elected to the homecoming court. We were so connected at the hip-we even looked alike. People always asked if we were sisters, even twins. So why was she chosen over me? I feel the same way now as I wonder why Annie and Ray gave Ben the nod-and not me? Is it because I don't want children? Is it because they're taking Ben's side? Is it because I've been a bad friend? Or maybe they were just more hard up for a godfather than a godmother. After all, neither Ray nor Annie has a brother.

At this point, Richard moves away from the window to make small talk with a man I don't recognize. I think, Good, I have another minute. Even though I'm not sure what to say next.

And then it comes out. My stellar question: "So you didn't bring Tucker?"

I instantly regret my choice. First of all, he obviously didn't bring her because she's not here. Second, I look nosy and petty and jealous.

"No," Ben says, a half-smile on his face. "I did not."

It occurs to me that the only possible advantage to my question would be if it actually cleared up the status of Ben's affairs, but his answer gives me nothing. So I am merely left with that foot-in-the-mouth feeling.

At this point, I see that Richard has finished up with his new friend. He looks over at me again, brows raised, as if to say, No pressure, but should I join you? I nod. Any other response would be rude, even to go-with-the-flow Richard. Then, just as Richard is walking across the room to join us, Ben says, "I see that you came alone, too."

One beat later Richard is next to me, handing me my champagne. It is an unmistakable gesture, but Ben looks confused, as if he's trying to place Richard. Which he can't do because they've never met.

I have no real choice but to say, "Ben, this is Richard Margo. Richard, Ben Davenport."

"Hi, Ben. Nice to meet you," Richard says.

I watch a cloud pass over Ben's face as he processes the name. I know that he does not forget my "Top Five Office List." He knows exactly who Richard is, and he's not happy about it. Sure enough, Ben does not extend his hand. Instead he flinches, his expression becoming very blank. Several seconds pass before he offers a very chilly, "How do you do." He cuts his eyes back at me. He knows that I know the significance of his how do you do.

It is what Ben's mother, Lucinda, said to her ex-husband's second wife, a woman who had everything to do with the breakup of her marriage. For years, Lucinda had agonized over what she would say to wife number two when she finally had the misfortune of meeting her. She refused to be rude. Yet she refused to tell a lie with a standard salutation like, it's a pleasure to meet you. Ben remembers his mother being downright triumphant when she realized that a curt how do you do fit the bill. Ben told me the story right before I met her. Told me that I should worry if I got a how do you do. But otherwise, I could assume she liked me.

Of course Richard is oblivious to this tale as he says, "Not too bad. You?"

Ben answers Richard with what my niece Zoe could interpret as sarcasm. "Super," he says, flashing a fake smile. Then he excuses himself and makes a beeline for his godson. As he scoops up the baby from Annie's arms, he turns and glares at me. The significance of that is not lost on me, either.