She and Cass should sign up for dance classes again. They’d enjoyed the swing lessons and had talked about taking line dancing next. One new thing Hazzley had learned was that in Wilna Creek, there were plenty of people who wanted to dance.

Tomorrow, the company would meet again. She refused to think of it as her company. Knowing that any topic might erupt, she wondered what would come up for discussion. And wasn’t that the attraction? No one, beforehand, had any idea of the direction of conversational flow. What was helpful was having others around. Others who had been through similar experiences and understood implicitly why each of them was present. Comfortably so.

A Small Party

Tuesday evening, Hazzley arrived early to check the table and chairs in the backroom. Not necessary because Cass, with her usual efficiency, had seen to everything. Cass was good at organizing, directing. She had also fancied up and was wearing a double strand of pearls over a sparkly top. Her late father was a jeweller in town after the war, and he’d designed the necklace himself, a gift to Cass’s mother, Georgie. The pearls were Cass’s now; they’d been modelled after pearls owned by Queen Elizabeth and were known fondly, in the family, as “Lilibet’s pearls.” Cass’s mother and Queen Elizabeth were born the same day, April 21, 1926. Georgie had been invited to Buckingham Palace for the Queen’s eightieth birthday luncheon twelve years ago, but that venture had not turned out as expected.

Cass returned to the front of the café, and Hazzley followed. A circular cake with creamy icing, candied lemon wedges artfully arranged across the top, had pride of place on a shelf behind the counter. The cake was on a pedestal plate under a clear dome. Unusual at this time of evening, because cakes and pastries in the café generally sold out by mid-afternoon. Cass reached over, lifted the cake and carried it to a side table in the backroom, where she’d already placed dessert plates, forks and wineglasses.

“Fabulous! What’s the occasion?”

“You’re joking, right? The cake is for you! It’s your birthday.”

“That was yesterday.”

“I know that. But I didn’t see you yesterday. I thought your birthday would be a good excuse to serve dessert to the group tonight. Tom will be pleased.”

“I think he’s been suppressing his longing for cake. He’ll love this one, for sure. What kind? Lemon?”

“Hold your curiosity, madam. Leave room for one surprise.”

“All right, all right. But you’re the one who always says: ‘Be not ignorant of any thing in matters great or small.’ I love Lilibet’s pearls, by the way. Always have. They’re great for a celebration.”

“Thank you, my friend. Thank you.”