“You’re a genius.”

“Be thankful that brains are inherited.”

They had decided on an afternoon tea because tea was more casual than dinner.

This was the menu.

Tray one: assorted finger sandwiches—egg salad, lox, tuna, cucumber with tomatoes, and cheese.

Tray two: finger food, including dainty bite-size potato knishes, miniature spinach quiches, vegetarian egg rolls, and fried pot stickers. Accompanying these edibles would be a soy sauce, a sweet-and-sour sauce, and ketchup.

Trays three and four: assorted breads, including but not limited to croissants, brioches, seed rolls, minibagels, olive and basil bread, and a caraway-seed rye. There was also butter, margarine, clotted cream, and strawberry jam for sides.

Trays five and six: the baked goods. Mini pecan pies, assorted mini fruit tarts, éclairs, petits fours, napoleons, cookies, muffins, scones, and cupcakes.

Tray seven: fresh fruit dipped in white and dark chocolate.

Tray eight was just plain fresh fruit.

Somewhere in Magda’s dining room, there was also tea, coffee, and mineral water.

Rina’s father was taking a nap, and the women were puttering around trying not to get on each other’s nerves. Decker had made himself comfortable in an armchair in the living room. He had dressed in a blue button-down shirt and tan slacks—no jacket— and loafers without socks. It was hot even in the city. He said, “I thought this was supposed to be informal.”

“Just a little something.” Magda paced. “I don’t know why you do this to me, Ginny.”

“Do what?” Rina asked.

“Dig up bones.”

“I got inspired after hearing you talk about your childhood.”

“You talk about your childhood. I don’t invite your old friends to your house.”

“Mama, I asked you first. You could have said no.”

“Then I look bad.” Magda stopped pacing and focused her flaming blue eyes on her daughter. “It’s my life, Ginny! Before you talked to Marta, you should have come to me first!”

“I should have, but I didn’t,” Rina answered calmly. “Again I apologize.”

“It is too late for that, nu? Now I am stuck! All week I bake and bake and bake—”

“I said I would do it for you, Mama.”

“And let them think I can’t take care of a simple afternoon tea?” Magda glared at Rina. “I’m old, but I have pride.”

“I know, Mama. And it’s good you baked. You’re a much better baker than I am.”

“Ach … nonsense!” She waved her hand in the air. “You are an excellent baker!”

“Yes, I am, but I’m still not as good as you.”

Decker smiled inwardly. His wife was saying all the right things. He decided to help her out. “I really like what you’re wearing, Magda.”

She looked at Decker and brushed her hand over a St. John Knits blue suit with white trim. “This old thing?”

“It’s very complimentary to your figure,” Decker told her. “Plus, the color enhances your eyes. You should take your daughter shopping.”

That got a smile.