Jennifer rose and stuck out her hand. “Mrs. Benfatti,” she said. “So nice to meet you, though I’m sorry about the circumstances. Thank you for being willing to join me for lunch.”

Mrs. Benfatti didn’t speak right away. She let the maître d’ pull out her chair and then push it in once she was seated.

“Sorry,” she said when the maître d’ had left the table. “I’m afraid I have to struggle to keep myself under control. It’s all been so sudden. Yesterday when he came out of the anesthesia so easily and then had such a good day, I thought for sure we were out of the woods, and then this had to happen.”

“I understand, Mrs. Benfatti,” Jennifer started to say.

“Please. It’s Lucinda.” The woman dabbed at the corner of her eyes before sitting up straighter, visibly trying to regain and maintain control.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Lucinda!” Jennifer said. Taking relative command of the lunch, Jennifer suggested they order their food to get it out of the way. Once they had that accomplished, Jennifer began talking about herself, how she was about to graduate from medical school, about losing her mother, and having been raised by her grandmother. When Jennifer paused as the food came, she was pleased that Lucinda asked a question. She asked about what had happened to Jennifer’s father, since Jennifer had not mentioned him.

“I didn’t?” Jennifer said with a humorously exaggerated questioning expression. “I’m shocked. Well, maybe I’m not shocked. That’s too strong. Probably the reason I didn’t mention him is because we never do, neither my two older brothers nor I. He doesn’t deserve it.”

In spite of herself, Lucinda chuckled, gently covering the lower part of her face with her hand. “I know the type. We have one of those in our family, too.”

To Jennifer’s delight, Lucinda picked up from there, and as they ate their respective lunches, Lucinda talked first about the disowned uncle who’d been sent to prison for a time. Next she talked about her two sons. One was an oceanographer at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, with one child, and the other a herpetologist at the Museum of Natural History in New York City, with three children.

“And your late husband?” Jennifer questioned with some hesitancy. She didn’t know what Lucinda’s reaction would be, but Jennifer was interested in eventually talking about the deaths of their relatives. She wanted to find out how far the similarities went.

“He had a pet store for many years.”

“Then I can see where the biologists came from.”

“It’s true. The boys loved the store and loved working with the animals, fish and all.”