In the gap between the first course and the three pastas that Chase had ordered for all of them to share, Abigail gave her son a look that she hoped registered as “It’s time.” He took the hint and his fiancée’s hand. Abigail had to concede that Penny looked lovely in the creamy white dress she’d chosen, as the new rule seemed to be that brides wear white to any wedding-adjacent festivities. She didn’t need the resort-wear flash her mother brought to the party to draw attention to herself, Abigail thought.

“We wanted to fill you all in on a few decisions that we’ve made with regards to our future,” Chase announced. He looked so handsome, Abigail thought, filled with pride in her part of his good looks. He certainly got the best parts of George and me, she thought. Not like poor Sarah, who seemed to have received most of the worst. Like her father’s cankles.

Penny jumped in right where Chase left off, akin to a scripted presentation or a sign of their single-mindedness. “First, let us say that it’s truly special to have you all here at our favorite restaurant and we’re looking forward to the engagement party. Thank you for hosting on Sunday, Abigail and George.” The use of their first names was jarring to Abigail, but she smiled to cover the wincing. “We know this is the first of many blended-family events. It’s really something to see our parents in the same room. It feels real now!” Penny had been the president of her sorority at SMU and she still carried that smooth, singsong delivery of a young woman in charge. The two of them were quite a pair.