Frank put down his fork.

Evelyn set her napkin beside her plate, folded in a square.

Ruth had Maya against her shoulder, the floral blanket hanging down over her arm.

Julian watched me with the patient look he used on clients who were being slow.

“Two years,” I said.

“Hear, hear,” Frank said, and lifted his glass.

“Wait.” I set my glass on the cloth.

“Before the toast, I want everyone to hear something.