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completely dependent upon the fact that our guests would arrive on time. That was unadulterated trust, and that was exactly what it would take now to open the drapery in the dining room.

    Claudia did her little hand clapping ritual, and for such a rambunctious crew, they did what was expected of them. They huddled to listen to her next explanation.

    "It's lunchtime, and I'm sure you're all hungry” she began. “Kate and I kind of went back and forth on this one.
    Should it be Home Ec, or should it be lunchtime? There's a good reason for each, so we decided to make it both."

    The glances between them commenced, and it was easy to tell who was famished.

    "In Home Ec, they taught us the basics of domestic slavery, and probably how to make some essentials like brownies and chocolate chip cookies. But did they really teach us anything we needed to know to grow up to be strong, healthy women?"

    The expected “No!” arrived promptly. That was trust, too. Both ways.

    "I mean could any one of us make a lunch for ... say Maggie, being the vegan she is? What we learned was the typical, but what we needed to know was how to personalize,” she said.

    Then I jumped in, “And everybody remembers lunchtime. The women who had to ‘aversion to children’ in their job descriptions. And the slop—those piles ofstuff that had names but never quite resembled what they were supposed to be."

    Everybody seemed to remember and started tossing out names of things, making faces to match.

    "What I remember the most, though,” I continued, “was that lunchtime was the time for revenge. If you were being bullied or if you pissed off someone that morning, lunchtime was when you were paid in full. In class you were safe because it would have been too obvious. But in an unruly lunchroom, it was inevitable that you would be tripped, spat at, kicked, stolen from, or have food slung at you, and nobody noticed. It just kind of mixed into the chaos."

    Some nodding occurred, and this time it was easy to tell who had been bullied.

    Claudia said, “We'll be combining those two things. We'll be having a lunch fit for a vegan, and we'll be exacting a little revenge.” She smiled wickedly, and I liked it. “Kate, care to do the honors?"

    This is where the epitome of trust entered the picture. Either this would come off without a hitch, or we'd feel like buffoons while we waited for the pizza person to set off the bellman.

    I pulled open the drapes, and as I did so, the influx of air arrived with the aroma of something cooking. “We have an expert in the backyard who has been busy at the grill. If you'll just find a place to sit, your lunch will be served in just a few moments."

    As I entered the porch, I heard the crowd move into high gear. There was no questioning between them about whether or not they would comply. I opened the porch door, entered the backyard, and there I saw our chef du jour, all ready and waiting. Trust!

    "Hi there!” I greeted. “It was so nice of you to do this for us. We can't thank you enough."

    "Oh, trust me, Kate,” she said, and I did. “I'm getting something out of this, too, and I can't wait."

    I laughed as she handed me a big, big platter stacked high with burgers. “Then let's get this show on the road!
    I'll be right back."

    I reentered the house and set the platter on the table. “Veggie burgers!” I announced, and I knew to expect apprehension. Hell, I was apprehensive.

    "What is this, Maggie's revenge on all of us?” Alison asked, and as she did so I realized that Claudia had managed to seat Kris and Ginny in a good place.

    Claudia explained, “Alison, this day is about learning new things. If you've never had a veggie burger, you'll learn something. Maggie didn't get a very good deal last time, what with those Mad Cow burgers and all.” She shot dirty looks at Kris and Ginny, and I detected no guilt whatsoever in their eyes.

    "Now, if you will all just behave for a moment, I'll go get