… so there we were, sitting in the loggia, swapping stories and savoring our drinks when the maid discreetly motioned to Phyllis. “Lunch is ready,” Phyllis announced. We all got up to follow her on the short journey past the “John Wilkes Booth” (the downstairs phone booth) to the dining room at the front of the house. “What should I do with this?” I asked Ingrid, holding up my half-full champagne flute. We both looked around for someplace to put it. She shrugged. I chug-a-lugged the rest of it and set the empty glass on the bar as I passed. The butler had opened the doors and I saw a table set for a royal banquet. Everything was beautiful. Phyllis had put out her best. I was a little overwhelmed — I think we all were. “Place cards!” someone whispered and we all began reading as we circled. “Carol, you’re here,” I said as… Read More »