A small birthday dinner for Dick proved to be a sort of "first test," of the feelings of closeness that have made life with Briggs such a joy lately. Typically, I would overlook B's nervousness at preparing food for a party, hosting, cleaning up, and the likelihood that she'd not get to enjoy the party herself but end up enslaved to her grandiose cooking plans. I didn't even try to discourage her from preparing two elaborate saffron, cream, and seafood dishes, both of which she'd never made before. Instead, I planned the event with her, brought it up repeatedly over the last few days, figured out where I could help to minimize her anxiety, and made sure she knew I wanted her to have fun and enjoy herself, and that I would do whatever it took to make sure that was possible (the rest being up to her).

The party was a great success and we collapsed into bed exhausted after seeing Dick off in his car with some of the leftovers.