She looks like an angel in her wispy dress, her face all lit up with hope and love and relief. I feel a bit misty-eyed as I watch them, and I’m wondering if I have a tissue anywhere, when Luke rises to his feet.

“I want to make a vow to you, Becky,” he says, his deep voice filling the chapel, and I jolt in surprise. This wasn’t in the plan. We even talked about it and said, “Shall we?” and then laughed and decided we didn’t need to renew any vows. But here he is on his feet, looking almost startled at his own behavior.

And as I look into his face, I think I know why he’s doing it. It’s because of…stuff. Our own private stuff. What happened in L.A. Seeing Suze and Tarkie stumble and looking at our own marriage in that light. And, maybe most of all, hearing Suze’s news and realizing it’s not us, not this time. Last night, in bed, we talked about it. Way into the night. And…

Well. I can be honest with Luke the way I can’t with anyone else, even Suze. So. He knows.

“I vow…” Luke pauses, as though searching for the right words. I can practically see his mind riffling through possibilities and rejecting them. The truth is, I don’t think he’s going to find them. The truth is, he doesn’t need to find them.

“I know,” I say to him, and my throat is suddenly tight. “I know. I vow too.”

Luke’s eyes are locked on mine, and my head feels a bit swimmy and I wish we had this chapel to ourselves for a good few hours. But we don’t. So, somehow, I get my poise back and nod a couple of times and whisper, “Amen.” Which doesn’t really make sense, but, then, neither does anything else in Las Vegas.

“All righty!” says Elvis, who’s looking a bit confused by Luke’s interjection. “So. Ladies and gentlemen. Let’s love each other tender. Let’s have no more suspicious minds. Uh-huh-huh. By the power invested in me by—”

“Wait. I haven’t finished,” Luke interrupts. “Mother.” He turns to where Elinor is sitting in a back pew, in a black-and-white silk suit so elegant and perfect it makes me want to weep. We reconnected with her in Las Vegas this morning, and she was predictably unfazed by hearing all our plans. Now here she is, sitting upright and composed, with a pillbox hat perched over one eye.

(She always travels with a hat, it turns out. In fact, she was surprised that none of the rest of us had one.)

“I want to make a vow to you too,” Luke continues. “Things will be better between us. I promise.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll spend time together. Holidays. Fun times. We’ll be a family. If…” He hesitates. “If you like that idea.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke and his mother look so similar. They’re gazing silently at each other with those unmistakable dark eyes. His expression is taut and kind of yearning. And so is hers.