As always, I look forward to answering your questions in future columns, even the tedious ones about forcing your poor bridesmaids to plan a bachelorette party in a foreign country and to pick up the tab for you. (No. Hard no.) Or the ones where you question the need to feed the guests that take a day, drive for hours, and graciously attend your ceremony. (Yes. Hard yes.) And, of course, the classic dilemma about your estranged cousin who put their Venmo QR code right on the Evite to streamline gift giving. (I have no words. No. Words.) See, all tedious. But send the questions anyway and I will plow through them with diligence . . . and love.

Bonus! Here’s a secret I can share! For my very first Your Aunt B Goes to the Wedding profile of this season, I’ll be attending the nuptials of Ashlee and Damien in Charleston. I’ve been promised Spanish Moss Meets Modern Nautical. We shall see, won’t we?

Big Kiss & Wedding Bliss,

Your Aunt B

Chapter 4
The Reveal

The Mother of the Groom

Abigail Blakeman carefully lifted the lemon bars on the silver tray out of the back of her Mercedes sedan. She’d made her signature baked good to accompany her announcement of the engagement to the team at the Black Rock Senior Center. She’d gotten clearance from the bride to “post on her socials,” which made Abigail laugh. As if she had the technical skills and energy to manage a multitude of platforms! She still wrote notes on Crane stationery. The truth was, she wasn’t waiting for Penny’s permission anyway. She had her whole story ready for the crew at Potluck Tuesday. Plus, while these were her coworkers, they weren’t really her people. Who would they tell?

The first time Abigail ventured into the BRSC, as she would come to know it, she was a recently “retired” private school development person who was seeking discretion and conversational Italian lessons. She’d lived less than ten miles from the facility for decades and never considered it a viable option for leisure-time activities even when she crossed the threshold into senior citizen status. Why would she? Abigail and George Blakeman were club people—golf, tennis, and yachting—the last being in name only as they rarely sailed anywhere and the time they spent “at sea” was to join friends on their sailboats moored in the harbor for cocktails. But the roast beef sandwiches and holiday parties at the Fair Harbor Yacht Club were top-notch and seemed worth the dues when they had money. But the last ten years had seen their clubbiness seep away, at first monetarily, and eventually emotionally.