CHIYO AND ADDIE were shoving furniture around and decorating the backroom while Cass and Hazzley were making the cake. The round tables were arranged, with a vase for tulips at the centre of each. A place for the ceremony was decided, a few rows of chairs set out; two long tables end to end along one side of the room would hold the food. The two women, satisfied, stood back to survey the results of all the pushing and shoving and discussion and decision-making.

Chiyo had asked Addie to join her and Spence for dinner at Spice, for Indian food, once the decorating was complete. Spence had been invited to the wedding, and Chiyo suggested that the three arrive together the next day. Addie had been at loose ends lately, and Chiyo had noticed. She knew Tye had been invited, too, but was unable to attend. Addie had told her that much about her ex. But the relationship seemed to be on-again, off-again. And Chiyo could tell that Addie was still grieving.

Six funerals and a wedding, Chiyo thought. Look at us. Look at the friendships we’ve made. Maybe Spence and I are ready for a ceremony of our own. Wouldn’t that make my mother happy? And maybe she already knows. Who’s to say?

The company was still getting together as a group on Tuesdays, but they met once a month now instead of weekly. No one was ready to give up the loyalty and friendship, and especially the support. They wanted to keep the company together, and each of them hoped to go on meeting for a good long while.

BY MIDDAY SATURDAY, everyone was in place for the wedding. Gwen, elegant in a soft gold dress and jacket, wore a gold bracelet that Allam’s daughter had presented to her earlier in the week. As the guests arrived, Rice sat on a chair at the side of the room and played soft music on his jazz guitar. Tom’s wedding gift to the couple, the bronze sculpture of the geese, had been positioned at the end of one of the food tables. The geese, always about to take flight, faced the doorway leading to the main room and out into the light of the larger world.

Allam’s Canadian family was present: his daughter, his son-in-law and his three grandchildren, as well as several friends from the Syrian community. Gwen was escorted by her sons from the main part of the café into the space in the backroom that Chiyo and Addie had decorated the day before. The other members of the company stood together as witnesses. Allam, in his fabulous tux, held Gwen’s hand while the judge conducted the ceremony.

Tom felt his left eye tearing up and realized he’d forgotten to tell his ophthalmologist about the condition last December. He dabbed at the eye because he had to step forward to read the poem he had selected for the occasion. He’d chosen it from the book left to him by his grampa Murray.