No one was busy until December. Things that were more likely: she was in mourning and couldn't get to events until December, and had too firm a hold on propriety to suggest a more private venue. She was pregnant and planned to have finished the pregnancy by December. Possibly she was out of the country, possibly fleeing scandal — maybe fleeing the scandal of being pregnant. He did the math; November delivery less nine months was February. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing in February with any degree of specificity. Anything was possible, he supposed. Gross.

But the persistence of the letters had intrigued him. His past experiences — and to some extent his present ones, with Valencia — taught him it was better to be apprised of what others wanted from you than to be blissfully ignorant. So he ought to go, even if all December brought was an attempt to trap him.

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MJ made this <3