It was too hot to sleep. So I went rummaging through the freezer sometime after 1 a.m. one recent night, looking for chocolate cake.

I thought of Franny, who says an ice-cold piece of chocolate cake with an ice-cold glass of milk cools you off on a hot summer night when you can’t sleep. Not that the surge of sugar and caffeine will help you sleep. It won’t.

But that cold sweetness just feels so good — and takes off a few degrees. Which was exactly what I needed.

Sweet Matriarch

I should call her Mrs. W., instead of Franny. Her daughter and I have been best friends since our college dorm rooms were down the hall from each other at Boston University. We lived on the 4th floor of Claflin Hall, with a perfect view of a huge, three-sided billboard for “Ellis the Rim Man” towering 70 feet into the city sky from the rooftop of a building housing an auto parts store.

I adore the woman and the fun name, so I can’t help myself. Franny is strong, capable and full of love for her three children and six grandchildren. Every few summers for the past three decades, I get to see her at the family’s beach cottage in Old Lyme, Connecticut, with  upstairs bedrooms with no air conditioning and that warm, old-cottage scent laced with oil paint — or maybe it’s linseed oil or varnish — that reminds me of Franny’s daughter, my dear friend, a painter.

Franny, and my artist friend — who over decades of friendship has become my sister  — and I have visited at that beach cottage’s kitchen table on sweltering Saturdays in July, often over cups of coffee. From that kitchen table, Franny keeps tabs on the whereabouts of grandchildren and who’s closely watching the littlest ones, and the comings and goings in and out of her cottage. She rules the roost from that kitchen table.

I’ve watched her navigate differences of opinion in her family by saying her peace, then letting it go. (For the most part.)

The last time I visited with Franny was one of those hot July Saturdays. Her husband had died after a long illness. His funeral and burial were behind her now, and we relaxed over coffee, talking about cold chocolate cake on a summer night when it’s too hot to sleep.

Insanely Rich and Decadent

So on the evening of Memorial Day, with a busy, hot summer on the horizon, I thought of Franny. We had leftover chocolate cake after a family picnic, so I stashed it in the freezer for July.

I made the cake — rich, chocolate with peanut butter frosting — to celebrate the May birthday of our soon-to-be daughter-in-law, a kind and beautiful teacher. A perfect match for my younger stepson.

Chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. Great choice. I used the chocolate cake recipe from King Arthur Baking Company. Then quickly found a peanut butter frosting recipe from the web with loads of butter, powdered sugar and peanut butter. Insanely rich, sweet, nutty and delicious.

In the middle of a sweltering night in early July, I found that last, cold slice of chocolate cake and ate it with a glass of cold milk. Sweet relief. Franny was right. I felt refreshed, and surprisingly, slept fine the rest of the night.

Times of Joy

She has been on my mind ever since, and I wonder what else she can teach me for this still-new, empty-nester and grandparent life-stage as our kids start their families. Our family is growing, and what a happy time this is. We’ve celebrated the first birthday of our first grandchild, a precious little boy who is talking now, born to my older stepson and his wife. Then, this May the birth of a beautiful baby girl, our second grandchild, born to my younger stepson and soon-to-be daughter-in-law in the midst of their wedding preparations.

This time in our family is full of joy. I am soaking and savoring it, since you never know what life will bring next. We’ve been planning parties and menus, sweet desserts and celebrations since January.

Now, we are within days of my younger stepson’s wedding and summer’s hottest days. I am thinking a lot about extended family and friends who are “family-of-choice” as we prepare to host rehearsal dinner for 60 people.

Memories surface of being my cherished friend’s 20-something maid of honor. I knew nothing about throwing bridal showers, wedding etiquette and bridal registry. Franny took care of the bridal shower and I showed up to give a toast.

On the morning of my friend’s wedding day in 1995, I drove her to her hairdresser’s salon at the mall to have her hair done and her white organza veil secured in place. She looked stunning.

But the hairdresser ran over the allotted time and Franny was in a panic about the schedule. There were no cell phones then. She reached me through the salon’s phone. The photographer would be there soon. The bride was still in the hairdresser’s chair. The mother of the bride was fit to be tied.

You can’t rush a hairdresser working a hot curling iron around your best friend’s hair and delicate veil on her wedding day. So once they were done, I rushed to make up some time. We ran through the mall, my friend in her jeans and wool coat, her veil flowing behind us. I told her to buckle up and drove like a demon on the interstate back to her parents’ house.

We had 15, maybe 20 minutes to get dressed while the photographer waited. As my friend got into the limo, she gathered the skirt of her gown, held it high, crouched to get into the backseat — and brushed the silk of her gown with her freshly painted lips.

We all gasped.

Franny handed me a bottle of club soda and a cloth, and tasked me with getting to work on that rosy smudge.

After the wedding, back in the limo, surely the bride and groom would have preferred a private moment. But I was along for the ride, still working on that stain in the skirt of her gown, full of the fear of Franny.

Staying Cool

Now, my friend has been married almost 28 years. Our big family wedding is just days away. My mind is swimming with dozens of details.

How to keep 60 guests at the rehearsal dinner cool on a hot evening? How many fans? How much ice? How many pitchers of water and lemonade? I am obsessed with serving ice-cold, fresh-squeezed lemonade and figuring out how to get it all done.

Then I remember all these details are for an event full of joy. That there is always time to pause, take a breath, say a little prayer of gratitude, a thank you and yes and appreciate this happy time. How lucky we are to share our lives with people we love. To love and be loved — really, it’s paramount, essential to a happy, well-lived life.

And when it’s all done, I plan to sneak off to Old Lyme, catch up with Franny at the kitchen table, listen to all of her wedding stories and soak up all of her wisdom that I can.

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