Bored, she pulled out her money and began to count, trying to be discreet the way that Arthur had taught her. Twenty, thirty, sixty, one hundred and forty, three hundred, five hundred and fifty, seven hundred and ten, eleven, twelve … She stopped and counted again. She was sure she’d saved over a thousand dollars, absolutely sure. She’d put five hundred down when she’d ordered the car. She’d planned to pay another eleven hundred for 20 percent down.

“Oh hey, Sherri.”

Sherri looked up from her money and saw Rhonda. She looked like Tinker Bell with her pixie haircut. Now that she worked the coat check, she wore a brown polyester vest and pair of slacks like the ones the switchboard operator wore. Still, she looked cute in them. Adorable even. She glowed. “Rhonda! Wow, you’re so big now.”

Rhonda turned so that Sherri could see her profile. A neat little mound stuck out, a bump of caution. Suddenly tiny Rhonda appeared so grown-up, so brave. She was managing. She thrust her hand in Sherri’s face. A tiny chip of a diamond sparkled in the platinum band on her ring finger. “Look, I’m married, Sher! Can you believe it? I’m a ‘Mrs.’ now. Mrs. Frank Mitten.”

It was one thing to lose her last name, but her first name, too? Sherri swore she’d never, ever get married, never change her name (especially to Mitten), never have a baby, never get dragged into the world of responsibility and obligation, never become a Rhonda.

“We’re really happy,” Rhonda said. “We snuck off to the Walworth County Courthouse last week. Our parents still aren’t talking to us. They wouldn’t even throw us a reception. But you know what? We’re going to be fine, just the two—no, three—of us!”

“That’s great,” Sherri said, trying to sound sincere. Then she had an idea. If she couldn’t be at the resort, the resort could come to her. “Let me throw you guys a party. How about Sunday?”

“Sunday as in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Tell everyone. We’ll have way more fun than some stuffy reception in a church basement.”

Rhonda beamed. “Seriously?”

“Come to my friend’s house on Lake Beulah.” Sherri saw Jerry’s car in the entranceway. “Two o’clock. It’s on the tip of Jesuit Island. Invite anyone you want, OK? Danny knows where it is.”

“Sounds great,” Rhonda said. “Speaking of Danny, have you seen him? Some guy says he left his nine iron in the cart but housekeeping can’t find it.”

“He’s in my room with Val, as always. Those two can’t keep their hands off each other. I wish they’d get a hotel room for once.” There it was, Val’s secret. Sherri didn’t care that she’d spilled the beans. After all, Val had stolen from her.