But even with the pinprick of sadness, most of me is happy for her. She got what she always wanted—the job, the guy, the baby, the whole dream. How many people can say that?

We walk up the creaky, uneven stairs to the loft and see Uncle Don in the stairwell. He looks nervous, probably because he has to walk Annie down the aisle and he hates people looking at him (that’s why he tends to wear a Chewbacca costume when he goes to conventions—it covers his entire body).

Tyler opens the door to the loft and peeks in, then looks back at us. “Okay,” she says, meeting all of our eyes and imparting this information as if she’s a football coach and we’re about to get a chance to make the winning play (or something like that . . . I don’t watch a lot of football, clearly). “I’m gonna stand right here, and you guys watch me through the window in the door. Chloe, when I’m ready for you I’ll hold up a finger.” She holds up a finger in case I’ve forgotten what fingers look like. “And you’ll walk up the aisle. Go slow, and smile.”

I beam at her to demonstrate that I do, in fact, know how to smile. Beside me, Annie shakes with suppressed laughter.

“And once Chloe’s in place and your song starts, Annie and Don, I’ll signal you.” She holds her finger up again. It’s kind of sweet how seriously she’s taking this, and for a moment I think about how nice it is that Don found someone who fits into their small family so well, someone who loves them both so much.

Then I focus on what she’s saying. In mere moments, Annie will walk up that aisle and this will be it—her wedding. My heart starts racing and Annie and I look at each other at the same time. Her eyes are full of fear.

“What if I trip, Chloe?” she says in a rush. “What if I trip and then Drew realizes he could never marry such a klutz?”

I put my own nerves on the back burner. I have to take control of this situation, for Annie.

“Annie.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “Drew loves you, and you love him. There’s nothing you could do during this ceremony that would make him love you any less. And even if you did fall . . . well, you guys met when you tripped onto him. That’s a nice, full-circle moment, right?”

She exhales and closes her eyes. “I guess.”

“And I’ll be holding on to you,” Uncle Don says, putting an arm around her. “I won’t let you fall.”

I bite my lip, afraid that I might start crying and ruin my makeup. Annie may be so unlucky in some ways, but how lucky she is that she has Uncle Don—how lucky we all are that we have each other, the three of us living on the same property all these years. How will we survive it when everything changes? When Annie’s really gone? I mean, I can’t live in that carriage house forever. Eventually, none of us will live together. Will we still feel like a family? Will we still need each other?