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microphone and started to sing along with the band. She looked like a middle-aged lounge singer.
    Nancy Reinhardt. I couldn't believe it.
    Nancy and the band did a few lengthy songs before they announced that they were going to take a brief break to refill their drinks. Phil headed straight over to me with Nancy in tow.
    “Kay, there's someone I want you to meet.” Phil stepped back so that I could see her and she could see me. Her eyes widened. “This is the singer we're hoping will join our band. Dinesh discovered her on karaoke night at Gatsby's. She has a fantastic voice!”
    I held up my hand in a half-hearted wave. “Nancy Reinhardt.”
    All was quiet. A razor-sharp knife would have had trouble cutting through the tension the silence created.
    Phil's smile fell off his face as he looked between the two of us.
    “Hello, Kay.”
    Phil looked a bit more relieved now that we were talking.
    “You have a great singing voice.” I couldn't think of anything else to say.
    Phil smiled.
    “Phil, Nancy and I have already met.”
    “You have? Where?”
    “I met your wife at the retirement home where I'm the director. Kay performed CPR on our maintenance man when his heart stopped.”
    I could almost see Phil's brain light up in an ah-ha moment. Awkward silence followed.
    “Phil, I think it would be best to tell you that I've thought over your band's proposal and I have decided against it.” She glanced over at me. “I don't think it would be the right fit for me. Sorry.”
    “We're sorry to hear that,” Mike said, who had just arrived with Dinesh to get more wine. They looked sad and confused to have walked in on Nancy declining to join their band.
    “Well, I better be going.” Nancy walked out of the study.
    “I wonder what could have made her change her mind,” Dinesh said. “She was so good.”
    “Don't worry. We'll find another good voice,” Phil said.
    I went back into the living room to look for Deirdre. She was talking to Rebecca and Jeff, our neighbor's from two doors down, who had just walked in the front door. I waved to Rebecca. She made a motion towards Elizabeth and John who were dancing to Otis Redding's rendition of “White Christmas.” I grinned then thought of the last time I heard a different version of this song, at the retirement home watching Les on the ladder.
    Elizabeth gave a little laugh as she danced with John. A laughter that was relaxed, like everything about her.
    “Kay, you'll never guess who I saw leaving the party,” Deirdre said.
    “Nancy Reinhardt?”
    “How did you know?”
    “Tell you later.”
    Phil came into the living room carrying a tall glass of ice and a bottle of wine. He poured wine into our glasses, although his glass was the only one that needed filling. “Sorry, Kay. I didn't realize Nancy was the director of Hawthorne Hills. That must have been awkward.”
    “It's fine. No worries.” I gave him a kiss on his cheek.
    The recorded song that Elizabeth and John were dancing to ended. Elizabeth smiled as she passed us and walked into the dining room. Soon I heard a bell ring. Those of us in the living room followed the sound into the dining room to see what it was about. Mike, Dinesh, and others came into the room from the adjoining study.
    Elizabeth put down the bell and proceeded to make a toast. “Welcome everyone. I'm glad you could make it to our Christmas masquerade party.” She then covered her face with her hand held mask. I noticed a few other people did as well. John reached for Elizabeth and slipped his arm around her waist. “There's lots of food and drink. And dance all night.” She raised her glass up and continued, “I know I've wished you this before...” Deirdre looked at me and started mouthing Elizabeth's words. “...but every year I wish it more. A Merry, Merry Christmas to you all.” 
    Deirdre whispered into my ear. “She's right. She did last year...and the year before that...and the year...”
    My attention moved to a