Diesel remained with Laura while I went upstairs to shower and change clothes. I checked my face in the mirror and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to shave again. My five o’clock shadow looked more like seven thirty.

The cat wandered into my bedroom as I finished tying my shoes. “Are you ready to go, boy? We’re going to have dinner with Helen Louise.”

His ears perked up at the mention of Helen Louise, and he meowed. It was very sweet, the way those two adored each other. And a good thing as well, since I could never care for anyone who didn’t love my cat as much as I did.

Helen Louise lived only a few blocks away, so Diesel and I walked over. It was a fine, clear night, though chilly, but not too cold to be uncomfortable for a cat walking on the pavement. I rang the doorbell right on the dot of six thirty. Helen Louise knew I always turned up on time, so she would be ready for us.

The door swung open, and she greeted me with a kiss and Diesel with head rubs. We followed her to the kitchen, led as much by the enticing aromas as by our hostess.

Helen Louise had inherited the house from her parents, and Bradys had lived in it since the early twentieth century. Though not as large as Aunt Dottie’s place, it nevertheless had the same sense of warmth and welcome, the aura created by a loving family.

The one room Helen Louise had changed was the kitchen, remodeling it to serve her needs as a baker and chef with more up-to-date ovens and refrigerator. I had no idea what the appliances cost, but her fridge alone was twice the size of mine. She was proud of her kitchen, and with her culinary skills, she deserved a first-class one.

“Do I smell coq au vin?” I sniffed appreciatively.

“Mais oui, mon petit chou. I know how much you love it. We also have haricots verts Lyonnaise and gratin Dauphinoise.” Helen Louise grinned wickedly as she continued, “And there just might be a special gâteau au chocolat for dessert.”

I still wasn’t quite used to being referred to as a little cabbage, but I knew it was a classic French term of endearment.

I pulled her into my arms, and we spent several satisfying minutes before I released her. “What happened to that early night you planned on? You must be exhausted, and here you are cooking dinner for us.”

“I’ve caught my second wind,” she said with an impish smile. “You just recharged my batteries.”

I laughed and pulled her close again.

Diesel warbled indignantly at being ignored so long, and we were both grinning as we separated and reached at the same time to stroke his head.

“This is what I needed,” Helen Louise said softly.

“Me, too.”

She tapped me playfully on the chest as I attempted to kiss her again. “Time for more of that later. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Sit yourself down and prepare to feast.” She pointed to my chair.