I glanced up in time to see Tasha enter. She paused in the doorway to survey the room. I waved and she waved in return. She took a moment to peel off her coat and hang it on one of the wall-mounted hooks near the entrance. She retained the long scarf she’d worn under her coat collar and rearranged it over her sweater and skirt. She wore high heels and I wore flats. Aside from that, the similarities in our outfits were unsettling, as they were in most other aspects of our personal appearances.

I stood when she reached the table and we did that fake kissing thing, looking like a pair of budgies about to peck each other to death.

Rosie appeared to be transfixed, the same reaction she’d had on prior occasions when she’d seen Tasha and me. Her gaze shifted from my face to Tasha’s.

I turned to her. “Rosie, this is my cousin Tasha. I believe the two of you met before.”

“A cousin. And here, I’m thinking you was an orphing.”

“Not quite. My parents died, but my mother had four sisters so I still have aunts and cousins in Lompoc.”

“And a grandmother,” Tasha put in.

“You hev a grandma?” Rosie said, feigning surprise. “Why you don’t hev her down for visiting?”

“That’s what I’ve been asking her,” Tasha said, not wanting to pass up the chance to get under my skin. I refused to react. If I offered resistance the two of them would gang up and turn on me like chow dogs.

Rosie turned to Tasha. “I’m bringing you good wine. Not like your cousin drinks.”

“Great. I’d appreciate that. The cuisine’s Hungarian?”

Rosie nearly purred when she heard the word “cuisine,” which she took as a compliment. “You know Hungarian dish what is carp in sour cream? Is special tonight. You be my guest.” She turned to me. “I’m giving you some as well in honor of your friend. You lucky to have someone so close. My own sister Klotilde is died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tasha said.

“No big loss. She wus crabby to the end. I’m getting wine now. You sit and I’m bringing right beck.”

“Looks like you’ve made a conquest,” I remarked, as Rosie moved away. I took a seat again on my side of the booth and Tasha slid in across the table from me.

“She’s adorable,” she said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“She speaks English well. How long has she been in this country?”

“Sixty years, give or take.”