April and Connor were in front of them now, both of them teary, both seemingly overwhelmed with the enormity of the moment and their love for each other. Ezra blinked back tears too. All he had wanted was for the same such happiness. He watched them vow themselves to each other and considered what was in Mimi’s heart and what was in Frankie’s. And he surprised himself when he realized that for each of them, perhaps he didn’t know.

THIRTY-ONE

Frankie

SEVEN THIRTY P.M.

Frankie hadn’t expected that April and Connor’s wedding would move her as much as it had. She found herself blinking back tears when they said their vows, choking up when Connor tilted toward April to kiss her. It was much like the few other weddings she’d been to—the poofy white dress and the impersonal vows and the music, oof, the music! But her old friends from another life seemed so genuinely happy, Frankie found herself setting aside her usual marital scorn and simply stood shoulder to shoulder with Laila and embraced it. She’d even cried.

This, needless to say, was new for her.

Alec Barstow hadn’t officiated though. No one had heard from him since last night, despite several calls to his hotel room and three pages to his beeper. (Frankie didn’t know anyone who still had a beeper, but that was beside the point.) When they realized he was MIA, Connor’s brother, a lawyer in Boston, got ordained thirty minutes prior to the ceremony. Frankie wasn’t certain if she should be reassured that Alec was missing or unnerved because she still couldn’t remember anything after the ice rink and it was quite possible that they’d run into him later in the evening, and thus it was not out of the realm of possibility that he had indeed married them. But Frankie didn’t want to pester April with the rest of her questions; she knew this wasn’t the time.

The shuttle buses waited for the guests after the ceremony to whisk them to Steinway Auditorium for the celebration. Breathe, Frankie told herself, as she shuffled from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm while she waited to board, also trying desperately to avoid Ezra and his girlfriend, who were a few dozen people behind her in line.

She’d thought, in the heat of the moment when she kissed him, that maybe she’d wanted something different this time, like those Choose Your Own Adventure books she’d read as a kid. Kiss Ezra Jones and turn to page 45! But she’d glanced his way during the ceremony and saw him leaning into Mimi and looking happy. So perhaps Ezra hadn’t wanted to jump to page 45 alongside her. Truthfully, if she were being honest, up until that moment, she hadn’t known she wanted to either. This was all a startling turn of events, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

The drive to Steinway was less than a few minutes, and soon, just as she had shuffled onto the bus, she shuffled off. A waiter stood by the door in a wool hat and scarf, offering the arrivals champagne. Frankie reached for one, wanting to smooth out the edges of what was to come. But she was still trying; trying for what, she couldn’t put her finger on. She knew that getting obliterated probably wouldn’t much help with anything, so she kept walking.