He sits next to Chip, and when Basil comes over, DeWitt orders a Glenlivet. I am about to ask him what was going on at the door, but then I see Murray and Ethel coming in, followed by Fitz Walters and a beautiful black woman who must be his new wife. Marvelous is there, too, dressed in a white suit and a hat with a feather. They are all beaming, and as they make their way to the table, every person in the restaurant is looking at them. What an assemblage they make: Murray in his lime green summer suit and floral tie, Ethel in a pink chiffon dress, the bodice covered in sequins, a matching scarf draped around her neck, and strappy silver sandals. Fitz is wearing a black turtleneck and trousers, and his wife a simple black sleeveless linen dress. And then I see Grace coming through the door, wearing her blue pantsuit and a white carnation corsage, holding the arm of Rose Banovitz, who is dressed in an ancient trench coat and what I hope is not but certainly appears to be a black slip. And I do not want to do this, I so much do not want to do this, but I burst into tears. After everyone is seated and the introductions are made, I wipe my face with my napkin and start laughing. “I’m sorry,” I say. And then, looking around the table, “It’s just … thank you for coming.” Under the table, Chip takes my hand. I don’t know the place to put this kind of happiness.

“So what kind of grub they got here?” DeWitt asks, opening the menu.

“Well, I think the tasting menu is always a good idea,” Mrs. Peters says. “The variety is marvelous.”

“Oh, yes, I always like a tasting menu, too,” Ethel says.

Murray frowns. “When did—”

Ethel turns quickly to him, smiles a tight pink smile. “It wasn’t with you, darling. It was with my mah-jongg group.”

“I ain’t tasting nothing; I intend to eat.” DeWitt says.

“Yeah, me too,” Murray says. “I’m going to live it up and have steak.”

“Or fish,” Ethel says. “You could have fish.”

“The ahi is very nice,” Mrs. Peters says, and Ethel says, “Oh, I have always loved ahi!”

Murray turns to Fitz. “Who’s she kidding, the fanciest fish she eats comes frozen in a Gorton’s box,” he says quietly. And then, “Want I should read the menu to you?”

“Oh, I’ll read the menu,” Rose says. “I will!” And, standing, she proceeds to do so. With perfect elocution, if not pronunciation.

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