“And what did you do to your hair?” Henry asked now, chuckling as he reached to touch my head. I slapped his hand away.

“It’s called a pompadour, you oaf,” I muttered. I’d never really had a clue about how to style my hair—that had never bothered me before, but things were different now. Cal said the best way to learn was to watch professionals, so I’d been booking myself into the salon a few times a week.

“I was surprised when you wrote that you were marrying Calvin,” Henry admitted. “You never even liked to date, remember?”

“I know.”

“But Calvin is a good guy. Army life has its ups and downs, but I don’t think they’d have taken me if he hadn’t put in a good word. Things got pretty bad for me for a while there, Lizzie. I wasn’t in my right mind. I still have bad days now, but they come and they go, and whether it’s a bad day or a good day, I have to get up and out of that bed before God is awake, because that’s how the Army works. Your Calvin saved me when he didn’t even know me. That’s a top kind of man right there. When I couldn’t look after you, I was glad to hear he was.”

“He really does look after me.” And I was trying to do the same for him. I wasn’t much of a girlfriend, and our relationship wasn’t exactly typical. I was still trying to figure out how to dress and act like the kind of woman a man like Cal deserved to marry.

“This should be the happiest time of your life.”

“It is,” I said, frowning. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“You’re pretty and dolled up, but you’re acting like you’re not even you.” He flicked me a confused glance. “At dinner with Cal and his parents, you hardly said a word.” We’d gone to the Hilton’s restaurant for old times’ sake, and Cal and his mother and father were staying there for the night, since it wasn’t appropriate for us to sleep in the same house before the wedding.

“It’s a big change.” I shrugged. “I’m nervous, that’s all.”

“I know. I get that. And tomorrow is your wedding night. I guess a girl would normally talk to her mother about these things, but with Mother not being here—”

“No! Stop it!” I said, covering my face with my hands. “God, Henry!”

When I peeked out from behind my hands, the relief on Henry’s face was palpable. I laughed, despite the heat on my cheeks. But he kept looking at me, that question still in his eyes, and I felt obliged to explain.