It was the warmest day of the most unusually warm summer that I could clearly remember. I had tired of being 'self-sequestered' in the house, and had just settled in the backyard under a shady tree, a frosty glass of iced tea in one hand, when I was interrupted.

"Telephone, Liz," my husband, Dean, said as he materialized before me. "Richard wants to talk to you."

"Richard? That's unusual," I said as I followed him back into the house. "Usually it's just Hyacinth who calls."

"Maybe he wants to come here for a break from her!"

"She's not as bad as she was, Dean, she really isn't," I insisted. He frowned doubtfully as I picked up the receiver. As he' been overseas due to his job for five years, he hadn't experienced the changes Hyacinth had acquired.

"Liz, I'm planning a birthday party for Hyacinth," Richard said after I had greeted him. "She's away for an hour, volunteering at the charity shop. Would you like to come over and help? I've got her sisters here, too."

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "Hyacinth is my friend and neighbor."

"Friend?" Dean said dubiously after I hung up.

"Yes, Dean. She is my friend."

Five minutes later, Richard was escorting me into the Buckets' kitchen. As he had said, Daisy, Rose, and Violet were already there, and Richard quickly called us to attention.

"Well," he said, looking oddly flustered, "as all of you know, Hyacinth's birthday is next week, and I'd really like to make it special. I should've put more effort in after all these years. I invited everyone here because I want it to be perfect and I need all the help I can get."

No wonder he seemed flustered, poor thing. He was setting such a high bar for this celebration—with good intentions, but overconfidence—grand aspirations. Many of Hyacinth's formal occasions had ended up in 'tragedy' this way. I glanced around at Hyacinth's sisters and they seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now, Richard," Violet said tactfully. "Why don't we start with guests?"

"Oh, that's easy enough," Richard said. "I want it to be a nice, simple, family affair—so it'll be you and your sisters, and of course you and Emmett, Liz."

"Splendid!" Violet continued. "Now, I supposed a menu is the next thing to consider…"

…

It was almost an hour later when the 'planning committee' broke up; in fact, just a few minutes after I got back into the house, a taxi pulled up to the Buckets' driveway and Hyacinth stepped out. (Richard, to get out of chauffeuring Hyacinth in order to get us together for plans, had constructed some elaborate excuse that I couldn't even remember five minutes later, yet obviously it had worked).

"You're back, finally!" Dean said, smiling. "Is the party planned, now?"

"Yes," I said, "and I'll be helping Richard exclusively."

"I think you're getting a bit too friendly with Richard," Dean teased.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Don't you start spreading rumors!" I pretended to chide him.

It was nice to have Dean back for good, and it had been five years too long. His job overseas, managing an oil extraction corporation in Saudi Arabia paid fairly well, but it wasn't worth being far apart for so long, though he had of course come for visits. Now he was manager at a local bank.

I returned to the back yard and finished my iced tea, and mulled over the plans for Hyacinth's birthday party.

..

The following day, Richard, who was told by Hyacinth to pick up some groceries, met me afterwards at a rather upscale food shop. We were doing quite well, selecting a number of special but tasteful foods, when in one aisle we came upon the Major. The Major looked at us with an odd grin and said, almost too loudly:

"Why, hello, Richard! You and Mrs. Warden seem to be enjoying each other's company."

There was a tone in his voice that I did not like.

"We're planning a party for Hyacinth," I said coolly, looking the old veteran directly the eye.

His tone changed significantly. "Oh. Ohh…well, could I be of any help? I certainly would like to help your fine lass, Richard. She is quite the woman in every way!"

A furious expression briefly crossed Richard's face. I had often wondered what Richard thought of the Major's untoward attraction to Hyacinth, and now I knew. Richard, however, proved to be more creative than I thought (with all due respect) for he said quite genially to the elderly man:

"Well, if you want to help, you could go to the field just outside the dairy farm on Wyton Road. I think there may be some bluebonnets there—those are Hyacinth's favorite flower. They're a bright blue and the petals have white edges. Easy to find."

"Certainly, certainly!" the Major said eagerly. Anything to help the town's most prominent woman in social circles."

"Could you bring them with their roots intact?" Richard asked. "I think she'd like to have some growing alongside the walk."

"Certainly, certainly," the Major repeated. "Why don't you come by my place tomorrow afternoon? I should have them by then."

Richard told me the next day, as we had a little chat in his front garden, a quite amusing tale. He said that the Major had ushered him into the greenhouse, 'babbling apologies' and shoving an extravagant bird-of-paradise flower, in an equally elaborate flowerpot, into his hands. Richard noticed that there were several bandages on the veteran's hand.

"I Fhere were no bluebonnets, Richard, my friend," the Major had apologized profusely. "I hope that your lovely lady will not be too disappointed. Give her my regards."

Then, Richard said, the Major had winced visibly and said:

"There was an awful lot of brambles, though."