But there had been a follow-up text with a photo of Sarah’s coffee cup from the patio of Lloyd’s seaside condo and the words “Coffee First! Then doing our own scouting. Surf Club! Possible rehearsal dinner place. Stand by!” and then a string of emojis that were meaningless to Abigail. They do what they want, she thought, not what I ask.

Adding to her discomfort was the image of holding a rehearsal dinner at a surf club, whatever that was, instead of a proper country club. She couldn’t wrap her throbbing head around what that might look like at all, except an image of those Gidget movies from long ago with a creepy older guy character named Moondoggie in a straw hat. Abigail concentrated on her iced coffee, hoping to zone out of the conversation.

But Madison Meadows had other plans.

“Amazing!” Madison said because she was the sort of girl who used “amazing” as a catch-all for every rejoinder, every adjective, every adverb. “Is it the Padaro Surf Club? That would be an amazing place for your rehearsal dinner. It’s super exclusive and has the beachiest vibe but super chic. Like, très, très chic. And totally chill with a beach bonfire and big blankets and a bartender that makes the most amazing margaritas and palomas. Is it Padaro? Do you know?”

Abigail checked her texts. “It is.”

“Amazing. They should grab it if it’s available. Like right now!” Then Madison realized she was ordering the client around and pulled back a bit. “My gosh, Mrs. Blakeman. I’m so sorry. It’s only that it’s a very special venue and perfect for the casual intimate rehearsal dinner that Penny described. Beach Chic. Cali Greek. Patmos on the Pacific. Even in December, we can make that work.” Madison was speaking so quickly now, the words were ping-ponging around Abigail’s head. “They can accommodate dinner for twenty and then others could arrive later for the bonfire and s’mores on the beach. In my other job, which is more corporate than weddings, we did a sixtieth birthday party at PSC and it was amazing. Sorry, PSC equals Padaro Surf Club. Can you ask your daughter to take photos? It’s private and only members can reserve the clubhouse, meaning that someone like me can’t even get in to scout it. The members pay a fortune to store their boards there and have their famous breakfast burritos after their morning surf. But to rent the clubhouse for the night is very reasonable. Because, duh, no one surfs at night. And they do an amazing taco bar, with grilled-shrimp cocktails first and tres leches cake for dessert. Elevated! But very California.”