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been dead so long Izzy could barely remember if he’d been an Alfred or an Edward. Aggie’s husband had been the first to die, and Aggie hadn’t torched herself. No, she picked up and went on to a better life.
    Audra should have told that to Chick. You move on .
    “Mother?” Izzy’s daughter, Marla, carried a handful of dirty cake plates into the kitchen. Small forks jutted out the sides like porcupines.
    “What?”
    “Shouldn’t you make another appearance? I think Chick’s son wants to thank you.” She set the plates in the sink with care, but the forks still clattered on the ceramic.
    Izzy sighed.
    Marla arranged the dishes in the sink. “What’s going to happen to Chick’s house, do you think? Will they just tear it down?”
    “Why on earth would I know that?” Izzy said.
    “Lighten up, Mother. You’re so angry.” Marla looked at her watch. “Well, I have to leave.”
    “No, you can’t go. I need you here. I hate this.”
    Marla ran a finger around the edge of one of the plates and scooped up a bit of icing. She stared at the frosting on her perfectly manicured finger. “Timmy has a baseball tryout.”
    “Don’t you have a husband? Why can’t he take him?”
    “He’s making us rich, just the way you taught me a good husband should do. So I’m on baseball duty.” Marla scratched behind Tansy’s ears.
    “Stay a little longer. I really do hate this.”
    She shrugged. “No, you don’t. You like this, having everyone where you can see them.”
    “But I have something to tell you.” Izzy raised her brows invitingly as Marla met her eyes, and for a moment Izzy was struck by how soft Marla’s cheek and jaw were, how dewy still. More and more, lately, Izzy noticed such things, getting mushy in her old age. She was fifty. A gorgeous fifty, as she was fond of telling people. Her daughter was prettier than she had ever been, though.
    “What?”
    “You’ll like it.”
    Marla grabbed for her jacket, a lilac thing that matched her skirt. She had not worn black to the funeral. “Tell me fast, because I’m leaving.”
    “A good friend of yours is coming home. Her mother is ill.” That got Marla’s attention, as Izzy knew it would.
    Marla’s face relaxed into something genuine and she smiled. “Paula?”
    “Yes. She’s coming back to see Audra.”
    Marla frowned briefly, considering this, then smiled again. “Really? Well, I can’t wait to see her again.” She clapped her hands in excitement. “She’s never even seen the kids! I’m going to have her over for dinner. This is—”
    Izzy grabbed Marla by the arms. She gripped her hard. “We are in the middle of a dilemma , Marla. This isn’t a reunion of old school chums … Do you hear me?” She held her tightly a minute more and then let go. Marla jerked back.
    “I know. I just haven’t seen her in so long I got carried away.” Her eyes narrowed and she shifted her gaze to avoid eye contact with Izzy. “Wait until she finds out her mother isn’t really sick.”
    Izzy moved more dishes from the counter to the sink. She could hear people talking in the main room and she lowered her voice. “Her mother really is sick. She’s in big trouble. Don’t go spilling the beans to your old friend.”
    “Really , Mother. I have to leave. Tim’s tryouts are in half an hour and I have to be there to cheer him on.” She slipped the jacket over her shoulders and pulled her hair out from under it, prettily.
    “Wish him luck from Grandma,” Izzy said. “Paula is bringing her daughter with her.”
    There was a pause and then Marla laughed softly. “Really.” She turned to stare contemplatively at her mother. “You’ve never met Rowan, have you? That will be interesting …” She grinned, the expression incomprehensible to Izzy.
    “It will be necessary.”
    Marla’s grin disappeared. She opened her mouth, but for a minute the words wouldn’t come. Then she said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I have to go, I really