“You’re finally going to introduce us to your mystery man,” said Mitsy, who’d held the title of widow the longest and with the most pride. Though she was not interested in marrying again—too much paperwork—she suspected Alexa of having a secret lover or else why would she smell so delicious all the time?

“I hope you’re not sick,” declared Roxanne, who believed that work killed and sunshine cured. She was convinced her late husband, a CFO, suffered his heart attack because of too many meetings and not enough vitamin D. She worried about Alexa.

“You finally agreed that we should all go to Antarctica on our next trip,” shouted Frannie, who was slightly hard of hearing but up for the adventure travel that the rest of the Merry Widows avoided.

Alexa laughed and waved off all the speculation. “No, no. It’s more . . .” She struggled for the correct word in the situation. What word could convince her that she was happy about all this? “More personal than all your speculations. Penny, my Penny, is getting married. To a lovely young man from New York. He works for the mayor!”

The Merry Widows oohed and ahhed and peppered her with questions about the ring, about popping the question, and, of course, about Chase. Penny had worked many of the Merry Widow trips over the years, either manning the phone at Odyssey Vacations or as Alexa’s right hand on site in Provence and Porto and Sardinia. They had a genuine fondness for her daughter and Alexa soaked that in. Maybe this would be more fun than she thought.

“What’s the scoop with Mummy and Daddy Blakeman?” Toots asked.

Alexa repeated the debrief she’d gotten from her daughter. “Real Connecticut Yankees, according to Penny. That’s the correct term for the type with the old house and the old Labrador?” The Merry Widows nodded, always willing to fill in Alexa’s cultural gaps. “The mother worked at a private school in development for many years, and the father was a stockbroker. Now they are retired and play golf and bridge. One sister. Penny says she’s not sure how much money they have. The house is a bit shabby, but that’s the way those people like it, right? Well-worn, like their Volvos.”

The group shook their heads, as if allowing an upholstered armchair to show some age was a personal failing. Redecorating was a legitimate hobby in Montecito. Didn’t they owe the universe well-appointed living rooms? “I’m meeting them in two weeks in New York. Penny and Chase have arranged a dinner in the city on Friday and then the parents are holding an engagement party at their house on Sunday. Is that normal?”