“I know. I knew that.” She sniffles, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “I’m just a really emotional person, you know? And I cry sometimes. It just happens. I can’t help it. It’s not you. I’m also kind of drunk.”

“Kind of.” Joy waits patiently for Summer to calm down by avoiding looking at her, figuring she wants some privacy. Malcolm and Fox are in front of them, which is a true shame. Joy would have paid good money to see Malcolm’s face now. She wonders if he’s thinking what she’s thinking—that Summer might be too chaotic for him to handle. So many deviations from his agenda must have him reeling since he willingly admitted to being “stressed.” It’s possible he hasn’t told her how important order and control are to him yet. Maybe she doesn’t know how much each disruption to his agenda upsets him.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Summer’s wistful sigh makes her smile lose some of its wattage. “I’d love to get married somewhere like this.”

Joy’s hackles immediately rise, putting her on high alert. Is that supposed to be a hint?

“There’s something I want you to know about me. I think it will help things.” Summer sniffles a few times before she continues. “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to get married.” She gives her a tight smile. “I used to line my stuffed animals up in a straight line to bear witness as I walked down the aisle wearing one of my mom’s white nightgowns. I was obsessed with the idea of being the center of attention and at the end of the line, there would be someone who would love me forever. We would eat cake, dance with all our friends, and drink what I thought at the time was grape juice. Happily ever after.”

“That’s really adorable,” Joy says carefully.

“Except I kept believing it, you know? I just knew someday I would reach the end and get my happily ever after. So much so that I maybe wasn’t as, um, discerning? Is that a good word? As discerning as I should’ve been.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ve been engaged six times.”

“Six?” Joy almost chokes on air. “Six? Five plus one, six?”

“Yep. It’s pretty bad, huh?”

“No. No, not bad. I wouldn’t say bad.” Joy searches for the right thing to say but unfortunately her brain has abandoned her in favor of screaming six! repeatedly. “Everyone moves at their own pace, even if that’s the speed of light.”