On Sunday morning, Casey sewed the trim on a new summer hat. It was a finely woven straw with a wide brim that had been blocked for her professionally at Manny’s Millinery. She’d found the vintage green-and-white ribbon for its band at Tinsel Trading. In the past year, she’d scrawled names for her hats on the brown hatboxes—mostly after her favorite book women: Charlotte, Becky, Valerie, Lily, Edith, Jane, Anna. This one, though, was Hazel. When she had knotted her last stitch, there was no one to show it to. Sabine and Isaac were away at Fishers Island visiting friends, and the big apartment felt dead without Sabine’s high heels clacking across the ebonized floors. The housekeeper and cook were off this week.
Casey wore her new hat to church. The regular minister was away for the summer, and the visiting minister spoke beautifully, but she didn’t feel much of anything. After the sermon, she tried praying for once, but she couldn’t quiet her mind well enough to think of much to say, beyond thank you—maybe everything would be all right. When she opened her eyes, she saw the others who were deep in prayer, and she wondered how they did that. Was it like turning on a switch for an invisible microphone? Did they really believe that God heard them? Was it just wishfulness? What comfort they must have, she thought, not without a little envy. At the end of the service, she walked down the crowded aisle by herself. There was a light touch on her upper arm, and Casey figured that she’d been bumped along the way.
“Hi,” Ella said.
“Oh, hello,” Casey said. By Ella’s side stood a white guy with wavy brown hair and dark blue eyes. He was tall, well over six feet. He wore a white shirt and faded seersucker trousers. Ella wore a simple sundress in a blue chalcedony color that Casey had never seen before. She looked lovely.
“Casey, this is David. David Greene. My fiancé.”
His eyes held a kind expression. David was a good-looking man. Something about his demeanor made you want his approval.
“I know who you are,” Casey said, slightly amused. “Ella works with you.” She shook his hand.
Ella turned to David. “If it wasn’t for Casey, I wouldn’t have called you. To get my job back. She even picked out what to wear that day.” She laughed at herself. How nervous she had been; how nice he was.
The crowds milled past them, and Casey inched closer to Ella’s side of the aisle to get out of the way.
Ella opened her arms to embrace Casey. “I’ve missed you.”
Casey didn’t know what to say in return, but she hugged her back. She could feel Ella’s thin shoulder blades beneath her hands.
“How are your parents?”
“Good,” Casey answered. “I saw them last week at their store. And spoke to them Friday. My father’s thinking about buying another building. Elder Kong found a smaller one for him. You know the other one burned down. The cost of this one is much lower, and—” She stopped abruptly. David was nodding encouragingly, but Casey remembered the primary rule about talking about money in front of people like David Greene. You shouldn’t. Money was alluded to in where you spent your holidays or your hobbies, but never in dollars and cents. She had learned all this in college. “Anyway, they’re both well.”
“Your mom?”
“She’s good. She even went to church today.”
“Irene would love to see you.”
“Oh, how is Irene?” Casey asked. “I have hats for her. I made her two for the summer. A canvas beach hat in white and a linen in a tangerine color. But summer has ended almost—”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” Ella felt happy. “Are you free for lunch? Can you come by? I wanted to call you and talk to you about the wedding. Can you come? I made a frittata last night, and we have this very good brioche from. . . Casey, please.”
The organ music of the postlude swelled about them. Ella slipped her arm through Casey’s and led her out of the church.
Irene ran into Casey’s arms. She showed off her sock monkey Grover. Casey made funny voices behind Grover. Irene considered the monkey seriously, understanding that the voice came from Casey, yet she talked to Grover anyway. David made Casey a Bloody Mary that was delicious.
The dining table had already been set with four places, with white roses for centerpieces. Ella set another place.
“Who else is coming?” Casey asked.
“I have a confession,” Ella said. “But I didn’t tell you before because I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
Casey laughed. “Ella Shim is now conducting subterfuge? I am impressed. Divorce has been good for you.” Casey’s drink was half-gone already. She took a bite of the celery. Irene made a face when she was offered some.