Mrs. Grady let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, there’s been some or from time to time. I’m not doddering. But marriage?” She walked back to help Laurel with the desserts. “I had mine. I had my Charlie. My one.”

“Do you believe that?” Laurel asked. “That there’s one person? One?”

“I do, for some of us. For others, if things don’t work, or you lose someone, there’s another. But for some there’s the one, beginning to end. No one else can fit. No one else gets into the heart the same way, and lives there.”

“Yeah. No one else. But you’re not always the one back.” She thought of Del, then made herself shake it off. “Do you miss him, still? Your Charlie?”

“Every day. Thirty-three years this November. I miss him every day. But I had him, didn’t I? I had my one. Not everyone can say that.You can.”

Slowly, Laurel shifted her gaze over.

“He’s been your one from the start. Took you long enough to go after him.”

Why deny it? Laurel thought. Why pretend otherwise with someone who understood so well? “It’s scary.”

Mrs. Grady let out a laugh. “Sure it is. You want safe? Find a nice puppy you can train to come to heel. Love’s supposed to be scary.”

“Why?”

“Because if there’s no fear there’s no thrill.”

“If that’s true, then I’m thrilled half to death.” Laurel cocked her head. “That’s Parker’s signal. Cocktail and dinner hour.”

“Go on and give her a hand. I can finish this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I like to get my hand in now and then. Go on.”

“Thanks. Thanks,” she repeated, laying a hand over Mrs. Grady’s. “I’ll make sure you get that cake.”

Alone, Mrs. Grady shook her head and sighed. Her girls, she thought, knew all there was to know about weddings. But love turned them upside down.

Then again, she supposed love was meant to do just that.

WHEN THE HOUSE CLEARED, LAUREL JOINED THE OTHERS FOR A little unwinding on the terrace. Del put a glass of champagne in her hand.

“You earned it.”

“Damn well did. Thanks. Where’s Parker?”

“Something to do.” Mac stretched out her legs, curled her tired toes. “She’ll be right down. Sorry I missed the Battle of the Mothers. I heard it was worth the price of admission.”

“Brief but brutal.” Laurel yawned and thought of fluffy pillows and cool, cool sheets.

“Do you have many wrestling matches?” Mal wondered.

“I got punched in the face once.” Carter wiggled his jaw.

“It adds an element,” Mal decided. “Good food. Great cake.” He lifted his beer in toast to Laurel, then watched Parker come out looking as if she’d spent the day sipping tea rather than riding herd on a couple hundred people.

“Your winnings,” she said and handed him an envelope.