Charlie was the only one at lunch who exhibited much of an appetite. She ate a roast beef sandwich, half of a ham and cheese, all the fruit salad except for the melon balls, and she picked off the cornichons one by one. Alice and Mrs. Flood just sipped at their lemonades, exchanged more shy smiles. She must be lonely, Alice thought. Husband dead. Granddaughter, as well. Son too busy with his career and his new wife to pay her much attention.

“I was so sorry not to have been at the wedding,” Mrs. Flood said after a long silence. “Richard invited me, but I was in Nice. I couldn’t just up and leave. I’d rented a house there for the month. Maybe I could have arranged something if I’d been given a bit more notice . . .”

“You didn’t miss much,” Charlie said. Then, off the look Alice shot her, “What? She didn’t.”

Alice shook her head at her sister’s lack of tact, then turned to Mrs. Flood. “Charlie’s right, actually. It was pretty low-key. Just at City Hall. Since it was the second marriage for both, they didn’t feel like making a big production out of it.”

Mrs. Flood nodded. “Oh, yes, I understand. They wanted to keep it understated, no hoopla.” But in a smaller voice, she added, “Still, I would have liked to have been there.”

Alice cast around her brain for a change of subject. Finally, she settled on: “Have you met our mom yet?”

“I have,” Mrs. Flood said, but didn’t say anything after that, which said everything, really. Richard must’ve introduced them at some point during the courtship. Obviously she wasn’t a fan. Or maybe it was the affair preceding the marriage that she wasn’t a fan of. Funny, Alice thought to herself, that she’d go out of her way for the kids of a woman she didn’t much like. Family must be very important to her.

After clearing the dishes, again refusing Alice and Charlie’s offers of assistance, Mrs. Flood brought out the tray again, this time with a beautiful five-piece silver coffee set on it. She placed it on the table, then picked up the pot, pouring the dark, steaming liquid into a delicate white cup. She stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into it before handing it to Alice.

Surprised, Alice looked down at it.

Mrs. Flood, coloring, said, “My goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask you if like sugar with your coffee. And I gave you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alice said. “I do like sugar with my coffee. Love it, in fact. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no such thing as too much.”