She tried to refocus and maintain eye contact with Jackie’s boyfriend.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, now glancing at Dawn, whose eyes were on her husband as he buttered his third roll of the night. Jason Segel, Hannah thought.

“Stop it!” Dawn snapped in her husband’s ear. “No more bread or no cake for you.”

Hannah let out a sharp “Ha!” prompting Dawn to flash her an angry glance. For a moment, Hannah felt normal again. She inhaled deeply, let it out, and allowed herself to talk. She turned her attention back to Jackie’s doctor boyfriend.

“My background is in theater,” she told him, speaking clearly. “I started right after college, interned with a bunch of small theaters and the New York Shakespeare Festival. Then I did some touring musicals and more-corporate, industrial projects. Then commercials. I’ve just started with independent films. No blockbusters. Most of those are cast out of LA.

“And as far as doctor shows and consultants go,” Hannah continued, proud of her sudden ability to be articulate, “I don’t know how it works. But I could ask around. I know—”

Hannah placed her hands on top of the table in front of her. She hadn’t touched her salad, but a server was already removing it and replacing it with an entrée. “Here’s your crab, miss,” the waiter said, “Unless you asked for the vegetarian meal?”

“Crab is fine,” Hannah said, thankful for the interruption.

“The movies,” Jackie’s boyfriend continued, his eyes on Hannah’s hands, which were now pulling at both ends of her cloth napkin as if she hoped to rip it in two. “What are some of the movies you’ve cast? You sure I haven’t heard of them?”

Hannah couldn’t say any more. The calmness had passed and now it felt as if a balloon were expanding inside her chest, pressing against her organs. She dabbed the napkin on the most recent layer of sweat that had formed on her lip. She closed her eyes and was suddenly pleased to hear the shrill sound of microphone feedback, a piercing shriek that caused all the guests to turn their attention to the front of the tent, near the band.

Bonnie Hunt, the wedding planner, stood at the center of it all. She spoke softly into a microphone, sounding more like a preschool teacher than an event coordinator.

“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time to hear from the matron of honor.”

Hannah saw that Dawn had already made her way to the front of the tent. She was standing right beside the wedding planner, her arm extended to grab the microphone as quickly as she could. As soon as Bonnie Hunt surrendered it, Dawn clutched it with both hands and walked forward so that she was in the center of the dance floor. She smiled at the guests, waiting for all talking to cease before beginning her speech.

Hannah found herself stunned by how beautiful Dawn looked under the sparkling tent lights. It was now almost dark outside, and in the twilight Dawn’s face was illuminated by the strings of white bulbs that lined the tent. Up until this moment, Hannah hadn’t noticed Dawn’s eyeliner. Or was it eye shadow? Regardless, the matron of honor looked like a princess. Dawn’s eyes did, in fact, pop. She was stunning. She was a fairy godmother or, better yet, a Good Witch who could help her get home. She should have wings, Hannah thought.