Ten-Finger Exercises

The garden soiree

“Welcome, Frederick, Margot. Come this way. We’re sitting outside this evening. One last soiree in the garden before we pack it all away for the year. Margot, you may wish you’d brought a sweater. I’ll get your drinks and be out in a moment.” Wren opened the French doors onto the patio and gestured toward the tables set up by the fire pit. Another couple was seated there, talking animatedly with Bernard, their faces in the shadow of the wisteria vines.

“Margot, please introduce Fred to Celia and her husband when you can get a word in edgewise.”

Margot stopped dead in the doorway. She gripped Fred’s arm and steered him back into the den. He gave her a puzzled look, but followed along. “I’ll come help you,” she said; and then quietly, “Frederick, wait here. No. Go back to my house and find me a sweater or something, would you please?”

Watching as he closed the front door behind him, she said, “Wren, I need to talk to you a minute.”

Wren was surprised by the urgency in Margot’s voice. “Sure,” she said. “Sit, and I’ll shred this cheese while you tell me what ‘s going on.” She pulled a bar stool out from under the kitchen counter, but Margot remained standing.

“What is she doing here?”

“Celia? I invited her to dinner. We hadn’t met her husband yet, but he seems to be very charming. Why should that bother you?”

“Wren, that’s Frederick’s ex-wife!”