The Fine Art of Disingenuousness

I wanted to invite my book club for dinner over the holidays. My initial thoughts were, just the book club members and their spouses, we'd have a sit down dinner, it'll be nice.

Then I thought, What about my friend whose husband died suddenly last Spring? Will she feel comfortable at the table if everyone brings their husbands? Maybe I shouldn't invite her. But I don't want to exclude her just because of a family tragedy. What's the right thing to do? I would like to be honest with her. But how, without coming across as condescending or inconsiderate?

And what about my good friend and some time book club member who is single right now? I never have a party without her.

Knowing that we all have teenage or young adult children, and knowing they are unlikely to go to a party with their parents, this is what I did. I phoned everyone to throw around a few dates and make a verbal invitation. With my widowed friend, this was our exchange:

Me - I'd like to invite the book club and their families over for dinner so I want to narrow down a date.

Friend - What a great idea.

Me - Are you here these dates?

Friend - Yup, we're here.

Me - Think your kids will want to come?

Friend - I don't know. I can make them, especially if others are bringing theirs. If not, I won't make them.

Me - I don't know either. Teenagers are unpredictable. The women might just bring their spouses.

Friend - That's okay. I'm in.

Me - Well, I'll send an e-mail invitation then to confirm the date.

I think that went well. Or was it obvious what I was fielding? But the important thing is, the invitation has been extended, we touched on the issue, and my friend is okay to come for dinner.

Now that I've talked to everyone, it turns out they can all come. I think this dinner party is meant to happen.