The country club where the reception is being held is only one block away, but Hallie insists on driving. I don’t protest; mostly because my shoes are killing me. I stare out the window as Matt and Hallie chat about how smoothly the ceremony went.

The church lawns meld into the sidewalk that traverses the length of the small downtown area. We pass the library, post office, general store, and high school before arriving at the country club. It’s not nearly as posh as it sounds. It’s simply an oversized building set behind an ornate gate and before the golf course.

The front lobby is minimalistic, filled with clean lines and muted colors. The ballroom is just past a double set of doors. It overlooks a stone patio surrounded by the lush grass comprising the golf course, and the entire room is decorated in creams and golds that make me feel like I’m inside a giant wedding cake. Round tables dot the hardwood floor, already decorated with dishes and floral arrangements I recognize from the ends of the pews. Guests are milling about, claiming seats with wraps and clutches. I head toward the first empty one I see.

“Where are you going?” Hallie asks.

“To get a table,” I reply.

“We’re sitting up there.” She nods to a long rectangular table set up just past the dance floor.

I sigh but follow her over to it. My grandparents and Sandra’s parents are already seated, and I take the chair at the farthest end, next to the highchair that’s been set up for Matthew Jr.

“When is dinner?” I ask Hallie.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s drinks and appetizers first. Then the first dance. Then dinner. Then cake…”

“Okay, okay,” I reply. “No dinner yet. Got it.”

There’s a round of applause, and I turn to see my dad and Sandra are entering the room. They’re quickly swallowed into the crowd. On cue, I watch black-clad servers start to infiltrate the room. Twinkly lights turn on out on the patio just as dusk begins to fall.

“I’m headed to get sustenance,” I inform Hallie.

“Liquid or solid?”

“Both.” I stand but only get a dozen feet before I run into Great Aunt Eloise.

“Saylor! So wonderful to see you, sugar. How is school?”

I learned my lesson on this question last night. “It’s great.”

“And you’re still playing soccer?”

“Yes.”

Despite my brief answers, Eloise draws out our conversation for a good ten minutes. As soon as I extricate myself, I run into another distant relative. Then another. And another. By the time I make it out onto the patio, half the hors d’oeuvres are gone.

I snag a few mini bruschetta and strike up a conversation with Ashley Martin. Her father works with mine, and we were friendly in high school. We’ve barely started chatting when Hallie appears.