“This has been a big year for me. Well, you know, because of Olivia. And this party is the first time I’ve been away from her, except for work, since she was ours. And …” Laurie stops and looks at each of us.

I realize by the nervous hesitation of her speech that she’s going to make an announcement. My heart picks up and I lean forward.

She presses her lips together and says, “Well, I love you guys.” Her voice breaks. We all know now she is going to make an announcement and are quiet, our motions halted as we prepare for what she’s going to say.

She snaps her fingers, inhales quickly, and says, “The cookies! Back to the cookies. These are standard fruit and nut cookies, hermits, but this year, well, I’ve been thinking about our planet and Olivia’s healthy, long life … The health of all of us.” She sweeps her hand around our circle and says softly, “I guess this sounds like a green ad about the future for our children, but I changed this recipe and made it more health-friendly. Used whole wheat flour. Added more walnuts; they’re supposed to have lots of omega-3s. Used dried cherries instead of raisins or preserved citron and pineapple. But you can use whatever you want. Splurged on organic brown sugar. That’s why I made this particular cookie this year. I’ve been thinking a lot about health.”

She passes out the boxes. I drop a box in Vera’s bag, the hospice bag, and take one for me.

“Healthy or not, they’re yummy.” Charlene has tasted one. “And I love dried cherries.”

Laurie laughs. “Well, I thought about using dried blueberries since I read somewhere that blueberries and walnuts are extremely healthy together, but blueberries didn’t seem like holiday time.”

“I love dried fruit and nuts. Can’t beat them.” Allie flashes an enigmatic smile. “Healthy but fattening,” she adds.

“They’re all fattening.” Taylor looks at Allie, her glance lingering.

Disney bounces to the door just before the doorbell rings. Vera’s fur collar softens her face, which still looks freshly made-up. She doesn’t join the group but tiptoes with her cookies to the back, goes out again and returns with a tray of cold cuts, which she places on the table, then removes her coat and sits down. Vera flashes a thumbs-up to me, and I know she made her sale. “Congrats,” I mouth to her.

She frowns and touches a finger to her cheek where my bruise is.

The yellow concealer must have rubbed away. I shrug and mouth back, “It’s nothing. The kitchen cabinet.” It doesn’t hurt anymore.

She’s trying not to interrupt, but it doesn’t work.

“Hey, Vera. How’re the roads?”

She nods to Laurie, still standing, holding the last box of cookies.

“Wet, but not slippery. I think it’s too warm to really freeze.”