A short time later, after a property tour from Ming and a recital of the guest house amenities from Win, Abigail, now refreshed and minus the extra layers of clothing, accepted a glass of wine and tucked into the cheese plate on the patio overlooking the garden with a sliver of a view of the ocean in the distance. She was hungry and tired from travel, but started to unwind as she watched her daughter backstroke in the lap pool. Maybe this would be a relaxing weekend, getting to know Alexa and her life here. Why was she so stressed? She thought of Bernadette’s advice: None of this is on you, Mother of the Groom. This should be fun, after all. Lean in, Abby. That’s what she called herself when she resorted to personal pep talks.

Alexa seemed so much less intimidating on her home turf in linen pants and her hair up in a ponytail. She had been terrifying at the engagement party with the British lord on her arm and the mayor checking her out. Alexa was off the swagger charts and guests afterward mentioned how much she looked like Anjelica Huston and what great genes Chase’s baby would inherit. Abigail wanted to snap back that the other half of Penny’s genes were a mystery but held her tongue.

Today, on this sunny day in this sunny place, Alexa looked approachable, accepting. She didn’t look worried that the bride had abandoned them, so why should Abigail worry? The decision-making was on the mother of the bride. All Abigail had to do was find a casual spot for the rehearsal dinner and pray that the wedding venue didn’t need a tent.

The local sauvignon blanc and the warm breezes were doing all the right things to Abigail’s mood. By the second glass, she had convinced herself that it was easier with Penny out of the picture. No bride drama. Just mature women making mature decisions.

Alexa returned to the patio with a carafe of water and more wine. “A gentle reminder to hydrate. It’s dry here, even if it’s not blazing hot. I’m always telling my clients to drink more water when we travel.” She set a glass of ice water in front of Abigail.

“Thank you,” Abigail responded. “Do you live in this same area?”

“No. I’m not a golfer,” Alexa explained, even though they both knew that the subtext was more about money than golf. But Alexa, unlike Abigail, wasn’t embarrassed to talk finances. “Thirty-five years ago, when I decided to settle here, I had enough savings to buy a condo and a travel business, thanks to my film production job. I found a renovated place in a lovely old building near the beach. The older woman moving out loved traveling to Greece and sold it to me under market.”

“The Greeks must have a word for that!” Abigail said.