Daisy managed to recover herself quickly. “Oh. Um, the last time I saw him he was headed toward the tent.”
Who was the woman with Walt at the wine bar? Daisy turned away so her face wouldn’t give away her discomfort.
“All right. I’m sure I’ll find him eventually,” Mrs. Beecham said, then turned and walked away toward the tent.
Daisy busied herself making the punch and pouring it into gallon containers that could be easily transported to and from the tent. Grover came to see how she was doing.
“How’s it going?” Grover asked.
Daisy was having a hard time concentrating on the punch. How could she when she knew the party host was cheating on his wife? And that the wife had perhaps just found out about it, too?
“Okay.”
“Only okay? I thought you loved helping me.” He grinned.
“I do. It’s just--”
“Wait a sec,” Grover said. Someone was calling his name. “Be right back.”
But he became involved in so many busy party preparations that she didn’t even get another glimpse of him until guests had begun to arrive and she was set up at her pasta station.
Later on, during a lull in the serving, Daisy was surprised when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and found herself looking at a familiar face, though it took her a second to place the man.
It was Brian Comstock, Mark John’s brother-in-law. He was a history teacher and had a passion for all things historical. He was constantly bringing things into the office--from books to candlesticks to old clothing--that he thought Mark John might find interesting.
“Brian!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Walt is a good friend of mine from work. We both teach in the history department. I almost didn’t recognize you because you’re out of your element here.”
“Yes, I guess I am. Nice to see you, Brian,” Daisy said, then turned away.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Brian asked.
“The caterer is a friend of mine,” Daisy said, looking over her shoulder at him. “I’m just helping him out tonight.”
“Oh. Well, that’s interesting, I suppose. Tell Mark John I said hello,” Brian said, then he moved away into the crowd.
He wasn’t the most suave conversationalist. In fact, he could be downright obtuse when it came to small talk. Daisy wondered if he had fun at parties like this. He seemed too introverted to enjoy himself.
Daisy continued serving guests, then the final person through the line was Walt. He held out his plate for a helping of pasta, but had a pained look on his face. He didn’t look at Daisy, nor did he speak to her.
Daisy felt she had to say something--it would be too awkward for her to ignore the host of the party.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked.
“What? Oh. It’s all right, I suppose.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No.” He left without another word.
After the dessert buffet was laid out and coffee had been served, the number of guests slowly began to dwindle until only Walt and Brian and a few others remained, including the guest of honor. Grover suggested that Daisy get a ride home with Tish while he waited to settle the bill with the retirement party committee. He knew from experience that it could take a while, and he didn’t want her to have to wait around for him.
“Thanks for letting me help tonight,” Daisy said. “It was enlightening.” Grover, who had been perusing the bill, glanced up at her.
“What do you mean?”
“You coming, Daisy?” Tish asked as she approached.
“I’m ready,” Daisy answered. “Talk to you later, Grover.”
“Thanks a lot for helping out tonight. I owe you one. I’ll call you soon,” he called after her..
When he called later the next week, though, it was with bad news.