Helen was persuasive enough, or the lady passive enough, for an escort mission deeper into the house. Helen herded the woman, who removed her baseball cap from her head as she did so, toward a suitable chair and offered her tea and a sandwich. Before the volunteer knew it, she held the petri昀椀ed piece of bread with the mystery condiment, and it did nothing for her current appetite. Helen’s eyes glinted in the low light. “Nothing makes me happier than being at the ready for guests!” Isaiah met the volunteer’s eye and imperceptibly shook his head, regarding the small sandwich she still held in her hand. The volunteer wasted no time setting it down. The handyman reentered the room at that moment and for the 昀椀rst time surveyed what he could see of his surroundings. Helen watched him with an expectant smile. She offered him the platter of sandwiches. No one had time to warn the handyman of the condition of these sandwiches, but all sensed that it wouldn’t matter too much for him in any case. Helen beamed as she looked around at her friends. All stayed a civilized twenty or so minutes before one by one, excuses and other obligations were brought up in murmured condolences. Helen stood at her screen and bid farewell to each of her delightful guests as they departed until she was once again alone. That evening, Helen perched in front of the television set and shared laughs and memories with her favorites characters. And later on, once wrapped up in bed, she thought of her day. She smiled contentedly at the recollection before drifting to sleep, secure in her decision to set the large kettle in the morning. PLAINS PARADOX ■ 48