“It is cute, isn’t it?” said Frankie, giving her a big smile as she extracted a pile of letters and a Delia’s catalog. “But I don’t know where it came from. It was a housewarming gift from an old friend. I can ask her where she got it, if you want.”

“Would you? That would be great,” said Lucy enthusiastically. “I wouldn’t want to copy you but maybe they have other styles. Like whales. Or maybe I could get one like my dog. Labs are pretty popular and they put them on a lot of stuff.”

“You know, ever since Mimi was, well, you know, I’ve been thinking of getting a dog.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. For security. But I never had a dog,” said Frankie. “Say, have you had lunch?”

“Uh, no,” said Lucy.

“Well, I was just going to make myself a salad. Why don’t you join me and tell me all about Labs.”

“Okay,” said Lucy. “I’d love lunch, but I don’t think you want a Lab for protection. They love everybody.”

“That’s the trick, isn’t it,” said Frankie, as they walked up the drive. “I want a dog that’s a good pet, but one that will let me know if an intruder’s coming. One that barks at the right time, if you know what I mean.”

“We all want that dog,” said Lucy, following her through the door and into her kitchen. “Tell me if you find it.”

Lucy hadn’t really given the matter much thought, but she hadn’t expected Frankie’s house to look the way it did. Since Frankie was a single mom with a teenage daughter, she was prepared for a somewhat casual, messy approach to home décor, probably featuring cheerleading pom-poms and a generous scattering of shoes and other teen detritus. Something like her own house, where antiques and flea market finds were haphazardly mixed with family hand-me-downs and a few upholstered pieces purchased from a discount furniture store.

Frankie’s kitchen couldn’t be more different from Lucy’s if it were on the moon. Pristine white enamel cabinets gleamed beneath an uncluttered granite countertop which featured a colorful porcelain rooster. A round white table stood on the terra cotta tile floor and, instead of a week’s worth of mail and newspapers, the only thing it held was a Quimper tureen. The matching chairs were also bare of anything except charming yellow and blue Provençal print cushions.

“This is really nice,” said Lucy. “It looks like a house in a magazine.”

“Thanks,” said Frankie. “I guess because I’m in real estate I know the importance of interior decoration.”