She had never been to Tom’s home, but she knew his street because it was only five blocks from her own. She slowed until she came to an older house on a corner lot. Tom was waiting at the front door and climbed in beside her. When she showed him the obituary, he did not seem surprised. He was the kind of person, she figured, who accepted things as they were. Straight on, as events unfolded.

By the time Hazzley pulled up in front of the eye clinic, the two of them had a plan. They would return to Hazzley’s after Tom’s appointment and start phoning from there. They were aiming for three in the afternoon. Hazzley would make a couple of sandwiches and a pot of tea for lunch while she and Tom waited for the others. In the meantime, while Tom was in the doctor’s office upstairs, she would call the café. Cass would definitely want to know. Hazzley pulled out her cell.

A SELF-SERVE SHELF for tea and coffee had been set up along the window side of the pharmacy. Three narrow tables were squeezed into a small space. Hazzley draped her coat over a chair and helped herself to a mug of boiling water from a large urn. She dropped a tea bag into her mug and paid at the cash.

A family—mother, toddler on a booster seat and an older woman (maybe a grandmother?)—were at one of the tables. The toddler had a perfect rosebud mouth and reddish hair. In fact, all three had reddish hair. Hazzley smiled at the child and he shifted his torso to a defensive position, his shoulder slanted away from her. He was in a grumpy mood. She gave up trying to be friendly. But he kept vigil because now he needed to know where she was. His mother and grandmother, oblivious to this exchange, were arguing, wrangling over something, and they, too, fell into a grumpy silence. The grandmother, who was terribly thin, shifted her arms over the tabletop as if they were weightless, as if her bones were knocking about under her skin. She stared up at the ceiling as if there was no point in going on.

There is! Hazzley wanted to shout at her. At both women, really. There is reason! Don’t waste your time arguing with each other! Even your child looks as if he’s accepted conflict as the norm!

She began to work on the crossword, and then thought about bringing Tom back to the house for lunch while they waited for the others to arrive in the afternoon.

She made another decision.

Seeking Balance

CHIYO

It was shortly before one o’clock, and Chiyo had been behind the counter for forty minutes. She was in charge of mashed potatoes—one plop or two—a slice of meat and a scoop of gravy for each plate. The next task was to serve extra helpings, if anyone wanted more. This was Chiyo’s second day as a volunteer. The previous day, when she’d arrived at the church to offer her services, she was put to work immediately; that’s how short-staffed they were. She was handed an apron and assigned to soup, one bowl per tray for each of the men and women as they slid their trays along.