Hazel made an effort with the dinner—cold cucumber soup, a complicated veal and bacon and grated cheese dish, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and a lemon soufflé for dessert. She was in a good mood. “Ah, my favorite dish. You’re wonderful,” Sullivan said to her. He had strolled into the kitchen with his first drink. Carter had known somehow that he would say just those words, though Hazel hadn’t said anything about the veal dish being his favorite. Hazel was cooking as if she enjoyed it tonight. She always cooked as if she enjoyed cooking—just tonight a little more so. And Timmy had brightened up, too, with Sullivan. “How long are you going to be at this?” Sullivan asked Hazel. “What do you mean? This?” She was slicing radishes. “Ye-es. I don’t have to have my radishes turned into little tulips. Are you going to sit down with us?” “He’s so unappreciative!”
