All at once the physical differences between Archie and Ted were crystal clear. Ted was a younger man, muscular and fit. His hair was close cropped and he was tanned. Ted was a well-made specimen. Archie’s posture wasn’t as sturdy as Ted’s and he looked pale and unkempt instead of like the Sexy Professor. And he had a little belly I’d never noticed before. The truth was that Archie was a lot less appealing, to me, anyway. Leslie seemed to be less picky.

Archie, who had brought his corkscrew, shook hands with Suzanne and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

Suzanne said, “I’m just the proverbial boy named Sue. Me and Johnny Cash.”

“That’s funny,” Archie said. “Miss Katherine? I heard you were under the weather? I hope you’re feeling better now.”

“I’ve never felt better,” Momma said. “Thank you.”

Suzanne turned to Ted and said, “And you’ve got to be Ted.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ted said and extended his hand for a shake.

“Thanks, son,” Suzanne said and shook his hand soundly without batting an eye.

Leslie began filling glasses halfway with wine and handing them around. Ted, who in my experience was a beer drinker, took a glass and thanked her. I put the music on and soon Ella’s rendition of “All Through the Night” filled the room.

“That’s our song,” I said to Ted.

“So, young man,” Suzanne said to Ted, “do you know your way around a grill?”

“I think I might,” Ted said. “Can I give you a hand?”

“You sure can. Grab that tray of meat and follow me outside.” Suzanne passed me and whispered. “Love this guy. He’s a dream.”

Momma picked up a shrimp on a toothpick and said to Archie, “I pickled these today. May I offer you one?”

Memories of Momma’s gastronomic prowess must’ve crept into his tiny mind because he said, “I’m going to wait for dinner, but thank you. Big lunch.”

“So, did you find a home for Sharon’s cats?” I asked.

“Yes, I gave them to one of my students,” he said. “I’m really more of a dog person.”

“That’s nice,” I said.

“Oh? Do you have a dog?” Ted said, as he came back into the kitchen for the peppermill. “I’ve got a golden named Stubble.”

“Stubble?” I said. “That’s a funny name!”

“Well, his snout always looks like it needs a shave. That’s why.” He went back to the porch.

“I love goldens,” I said to the room.

Ted stuck his head back in and gave me a wink. He had a golden, we had a song, and it was all good.