It rained the day of our party.
Wouldn’t you know.
The entire week before had been sun-drenched. Sun-blasted. It had been so sunny our sunglasses had begged for mercy.
And now it was raining. The day of our party!
I couldn’t help taking it personally.
Michael advised patience. Normally I would have taken his advice and played a few hands of Solitaire (known originally, though perhaps not coincidentally, as Patience) to while away the moist hours.
Unfortunately my concentration was shot.
“As you know,” Michael reminded me helpfully, “three different weather fronts could move through before 6:30.” And of course he was right.
But I still felt panicky. Yes, I knew I wouldn’t expire if it was still raining at party time. The planet would keep on spinning.
Teenagers around the world would still say “like” (or their native tongue’s equivalent) at least once every thirty seconds.
And yet, all things considered, I would have preferred a gorgeous orb of light gliding slowly across the horizon and dipping regally into the ocean around 8 p.m.
So much more picturesque.
So much more festive.
We had hired a caterer for the party (complete with waiters, or “servers” as we were instructed to call them, and a bartender). So there wasn’t a great deal for me to do, except worry extravagantly and run a dust cloth over the bookshelves.
Actually even the dusting part was moot, since Lydia had come in the day before and scrubbed the house from stem to stern.
So that just left worrying.
I was up for the challenge.
And yet at some point around 3:00 p.m., as the skies opened up wider than ever and the rains came tumbling down, I stopped fretting.
Our great room could easily hold thirty or forty, and the wrap-around balcony could absorb the rest. I’d always heard that cramped quarters make for good parties.
This was a great chance to find out.
And of course the instant I made my peace with Mother Nature, she backed off. The rain stopped as if someone had turned off a tap.
The sun popped out from behind a bank of clouds and bombarded everything below with ultraviolet glee, clearly intent on making up for lost time.
The caterer was due at 5:00. At around 4:30 I showered and dressed (Michael was in town running last-minute errands) and went for a quick wander around the house before the masses descended.
I felt rested and happy.
It was party time.