He was always happy to hear about them, but this was the first time he’d longed to see them. There was something about the idea of Bee getting married and Hannah’s panicked voice that made Rob desperate to see Hannah’s face, watch Bee walk down the aisle, and then drink beers with Vicki after everyone else had fallen asleep.

He was shocked by how giddy he felt when Hannah began contacting him yesterday afternoon, at the start of what would be a weekend of events celebrating Bee’s nuptials.

The first frantic phone call had come in a few hours before Bee’s rehearsal dinner. It was from a 917 area code, a number he didn’t know.

“This is Rob,” he’d said, giving his standard greeting.

“When do you get in? Tell me it’s today,” said the female voice, rushed and slurred.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Hannah. Rob, it’s me.”

“Don’t yell at me,” he said, letting out his throaty laugh. “We haven’t spoken on the phone in, what, a year?”

“First of all, it’s been a few months at the most,” Hannah said, quickly doubting her answer.

“Maybe a year,” she admitted. “Second of all, why is my number not programmed into your phone? That’s how you’re supposed to know it’s me. My name is supposed to pop up on the little screen. Why didn’t my name pop up?”

“I don’t keep any numbers in my phone.”

“Then how do you know who’s calling you?”

“I answer the phone and the person on the other end of the line tells me who they are.”

“Jesus, Rob.”

“If you remember, Han, we didn’t even have cell phones in college, and we managed just fine.”

“You know,” Hannah said, suddenly thoughtful, “I was just thinking about that the other day. I didn’t even get my first cell phone until I moved to New York. How did we ever find each other back then?”

“Messenger pigeon, if I remember correctly. Actually, I think I blew into a conch shell and you came running.”

Hannah was silent, trying to come up with a comeback. After her pause went on for too long, they both broke down, giggling.

“Tell me you’re getting here soon, because I’m losing my mind.”

Rob released a heavy sigh and braced himself, his hand pressing against his kitchen counter. “I’m not coming,” he admitted stiffly.

“What?” Hannah yelled. “What? What do you mean you’re not coming? You RSVP’d yes! You e-mailed me three months ago to tell me that you were coming. Bee thinks you’re coming. You’re on the seating chart. Bee sat you next to Vicki.”

“Some things came up. I didn’t get a flight. It’s a long story.”

“Jesus, Rob. This is so—ugh! This is so 2001. You can’t still be selfish and irresponsible like this. You can’t skip a wedding after you’ve told people you’re coming. The food costs money. People take these things seriously.”

Rob rolled his eyes, now aggravated. “Bee won’t even notice, and we both know she has plenty of money.”