“You’re astute, as always, Cass. But glint?”

“You know what I mean.”

Hazzley did know. Gwen had told the group that her husband died in April. “She’s fragile,” Hazzley said. “Beaten down, maybe. I’m going to keep an eye on her.”

“Last few months, she’s been coming in here carrying a book,” said Cass. “I thought she was on the lam because she kept glancing toward the door as if someone might charge in and drag her out. I leave her to sit for hours over one coffee. She doesn’t stand straight, never assumes her own height. She tries to erase herself, become invisible. There’s beauty there, a kind of hidden beauty she isn’t aware of. Even so, she’s contained. If you think of contained as someone who’s about to take flight. Sometimes I look over to check on her, but she has already slipped out the door and is gone.”

Hazzley considered this. “What about the others? Do you think they’ll return?”

“I predict they’ll all return.”

“They said they would. What about Tom? Did you have a chance to speak to him?”

“He’ll be back,” said Cass. “Tweed jacket and all. He and his wife used to come in for a glass of wine after a movie. Sometimes they came to listen to jazz when Rice was playing. I knew Tom’s wife had died, but I hadn’t seen him for a while. Now that he’s alone, he rarely comes in. And don’t concern yourself about grief walks. I’ve never heard of them either. I’ll surprise him with cake some week, to please him. He might have thought you were starting up a death café. What about the one called Addie?”

“She works at the hospital, in administration. Manages the Danforth Wing.”

“I wonder if she knows the history, that the wing was named after my great-grandfather. Think of the life span of our family in this town! Next week, I’ll ask if she’s aware of the connection. You know, I always wished I could have met my great-grand-father. I’m only consoled by knowing how lucky I was to have my great-grandmother in my life when I was growing up. She and my great-grandfather were madly in love—everyone said so. Do you remember me telling you what she used to say to my mother and me? Be not ignorant of any thing in matters great or small. She found so many ways of fitting that into conversation. Especially when she knew one of us was about to make an important decision. She was bloody wonderful, that’s what she was. I had her in my life for twenty-two years.”

Hazzley had met Cass’s mother, but not her grandmother or great-grandmother. She also knew about the family connection to the Danforth Wing, but she hadn’t thought of that for a while. The hospital had expanded over the years. The new section now accounted for about half the total space.

All in all, it was obvious that Cass had been eavesdropping during the introductions. Listening intently. She’d certainly heard more than a few fragments. Fine. Hazzley could forgive her that. It was a public meeting, after all. Public to the participants. In any case, she couldn’t get along without her friendship with Cassie.