“Who was that?” I ask one day after her phone goes for the fifth time in an hour. James has gone home to air out his house and mow the lawns, and Amanda is in the city for a few days with her band. Kate has taken a few days off this week, to “finalize things.” The wedding is only two weeks away.

“Mm? Oh, no one you need to worry about.”

“You guys haven’t gone like, a bit crazy stupid, with this whole wedding thing, have you?”

“As if we would.”

“Good. So we’re still on budget?”

She makes a sound that I think is supposed to signify agreement, but her eyes twitch shiftily at the same time.

“Kate.”

“What?”

“What have you done?”

“Exactly what you asked me to do. Organize you a wedding day to remember. Or celebration-of-your-life day—whatever we’re calling it now.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?”

“I don’t know. I’m not hiding anything.”

“Really? Then you won’t mind if I look at this.”

I leap for her notebook but she is too quick and dives over the back of the couch, where I can’t reach her.

“Aha. So you are hiding something,” I say.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Ava. Stop asking questions and just wait and see. You’ll spoil the surprise.”

“So there is a surprise.”

“You can be so annoying sometimes—anyone ever tell you that?”

“You. All the time when we were growing up.”

At the mention of our shared youth her eyes go glassy and her bottom lip wobbles. “If I did, I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t cry,” I sigh. “Not today. Not yet.”

“I can’t help it.” She looks down at her feet. “I’m trying to keep myself busy so I don’t think about it, but it’s always there. Every time I look at you, the thought of never seeing your face again…” She sobs, and then claps a hand across her mouth. When she has recovered enough she removes it and whispers, “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear this.”

I sit down on the couch and pat the cushion beside me. “Sit.”

She takes a step and then pauses. “Is this a trap so you can try and get my notebook?”

I roll my eyes. “No. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. But now that you mention it…”

She clutches the notebook tighter.

“Oh, for—come on. Sit. I promise I won’t try and get it.”

Still looking at me dubiously, she sits, tucking the notebook underneath her thigh that is farthest away from me. I study her face, marveling at how familiar it is. I could close my eyes and conjure up a thousand magical memories of this girl based on one expression alone. She has been there for me through everything. I can only hope that I have given her the same support.

“You know you’re my oldest friend,” I say.

She bursts into tears.

“Wow, that escalated quickly,” I say, blinking. “Oh, Kate, you big, soppy thing. Come here.” I pull her in for a cuddle.