Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in essentially the same outfit, but cleaner, Laura made her way to the kitchen. It was immediately obvious something special was underway. A beautiful arrangement of roses and peonies took center stage on the butcher block counter, and the room was filled with the smell of roasting tomatoes. Maggie was pottering around putting things in little dishes and talking to Anna and Libby about the year 1000, for some reason. As Laura walked in, she was saying, “Really? King Steve?”

“Yup,” said Libby. “I mean, it’s not strictly speaking my period, but I’m pretty sure he was the first king of Hungary and crowned on Christmas Day.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “You deliver that level of granularity on things you don’t specialize in?” She turned and saw Laura coming in. Maggie smiled and reached out to give her a welcoming hug. “Hey there, Asher’s going to be here for dinner.” She was clearly very jazzed. “We’re making pizzas.” She paused. “I told you that already, sorry.”

“Not the pizza part, that was new,” replied Laura, smiling at Libby. He offered her a glass of wine, and poured it for her when she said a rare yes.

He looked at her as he handed it over, and asked, “Who’s your favorite character of ancient history?”

“Uh . . .”

“Betty Rubble,” said Polly, bouncing in through the French doors, wearing pajamas and carrying an empty glass. “That chick was underappreciated in her own time.” She opened the fridge and grabbed some cranberry juice, which she mixed with soda. Then she added an umbrella, two straws, and a maraschino cherry. She makes everything a party, thought Laura. I wish I was like that.

Polly’s arrival had made it five in the kitchen, and Maggie shooed them all out.

“I don’t like people underfoot when I’m cooking,” she said, slightly huffily. She looked at the wall clock, wondering if she needed to change the batteries.

One by one, Laura, Polly, Libby, and Anna stepped over Daisy, who’d planted herself in the middle of the doorway to the garden.

“The question is,” said Anna, last in line, “whether Daisy is attempting to stop people from getting into the kitchen or out of it.”

“I don’t think,” replied Polly, “she’s thinking about anyone else at all. I think Daisy pleases Daisy.” They’d all settled around the table outside, and she looked around at them. “Did I mention Ollie left part of a dead mouse in my room? It was waiting for me when I got home.”

Anna made a face. “I think that means you two are dating.”

Polly looked concerned. “Damn, I didn’t get him anything.”

“Which part of the mouse was it,” asked Libby, “and how did you know it was a mouse rather than, say, a vole?”