In which we are introduced to Anya.
Ding-dong. Emma walks smarty to the door; she’s sure this will be her best dinner party ever.
“Anya, you made it.”
Anya immediately wishes she hadn’t come. She hands Emily a casserole; her adopted mother’s recipe. She wishes she hadn’t made that recipe. She should have put dog foot in it at least. Tessie would have.
“Mac couldn’t come.” He wouldn’t have to see her behaving herself at the party. “It’s surprising good to see you again, Emily.”
“Oh Anya, it’s good to see you too! Come help me in the kitchen.”
“Am I the first to arrive,” she flinches as soon as it’s out. Emily doesn’t notice. Why did she said that, she wonders. So gauche. She didn’t have to ask; of course she was. Emily would have introduced her if there were others there.
As Emily chats on about the party, Anya just stands there, listening. The kitchen isn’t really her place; she doesn’t know what to do to help.
“I’m just going to go freshen up.” This time she knows why she said that: she isn't going to freshen up at all, she's going to get away from Emily. Anya can hear Emily still talking as she walks down the hallway, slowly looking at the photographs on the wall. As she expects, the pictures are trite: Emily’s plain friends photographed in common situations.
When the pictures stop, she finds herself in front of Emily’s bedroom. She wants to go in, dig up some dirt on Emily. She thinks: a little transgression might cheer her up, and would certainly pass the time until more guests arrive. Anya has her hand on the bedroom doorknob when a knock comes at the front door and Emily sings out, “Anya, could you get that dear?”
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