Annie’s voice was still cheerful when she said, “I’m just saying, Myra. I always like to go on the record with things like this.”

Myra fingered her pearls. “Yes, I know, dear. Annie, about that…uh…lighted dancing pole. Why do you want it to be lighted?”

“Myra, don’t you read? It’s not just a light. Well, it is, but it changes colors. You know, like in one of those disco dance halls. It just makes it more…official somehow. I’m all atwitter just thinking about it. You should be all atwitter, too, Myra, but I understand you’re busy thinking about your wedding and all. We have time, so don’t fret about it.”

Myra blinked. “I’m not fretting. Time for what?” she asked nervously as she plucked at her pearls.

“To get into the swing of things. This is your chance to show off your tat.”

“Tat?”

“That’s the lingo for tattoo. You are so not with it, Myra.” Annie patted Myra’s arm the way she would if she were consoling a child. “We’re partnering up, Myra. That’s because the girls think we’re old, and we are, but I so hate to be reminded of my age. Each of them is going off on her own while we partner. If you don’t feel comfortable with me, you can go with one of the others, and I’ll go alone.”

“Don’t be silly, Annie. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to your own devices. Besides, I feel very comfortable with each of us watching the other’s back. We work well together. Sometimes you are just so outside of the box, I don’t know what to think.”

“Your answer is don’t think. Just go with the flow and the moment. Everything is instinctive, you know.” Annie dropped her voice to a whisper. “Myra, we can do anything the girls can do. We really can.”

“No, we can’t, Annie.”

“Okay, we can’t. But we’re wizards at improvising. Can you accept that?”

“Yes, dear, I can accept that. Now, put on your boots. We get dropped off first. I wish Charles had called.”

“Yes, Mama,” Annie said, tongue in cheek. “I imagine he has his hands full at the moment, Myra. We know what to do, and, like you said, we can think on our own if things go awry.”

“First stop, ladies. Dupont Circle,” the driver said thirty minutes later. “Careful now. That step has ice on it.”

Annie shot the driver a withering look as she jumped down into almost a foot of snow piled on the side of the road. She reached for Myra’s hand, but Myra shook it off as she, too, landed in the snow in an upright position. They waved airily to those left behind in the van. They managed to cross the road, holding on to each other for safety’s sake.