“Thanks for having me,” Jess says. The crooked smile on her face feels like home. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m happy you could make it,” I reply, another phrase I learned from the Walker Family Dictionary. “It’s great to finally meet you. Lena has said...almost nothing about you, so I will be watching you two carefully all weekend.” The three of us laugh, Lena harder than expected, and I finish my champagne.

“This place is unforgettable,” Jess says, glancing from the wood beams to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the darkness like a black wall outside.

“It sure is.” I remember having that thought the first time, too. I’d never seen a house so big, a property so expansive. The place could be heaven if a bunch of assholes didn’t own it.

Jess smiles at me again as Lena lowers her hand down Jess’s backless dress in that way you do when you just want to feel your person next to you. Jess seems agnostic about the whole thing.

When they inevitably break up—Lena and her people always break up—Lena’s going to be heartbroken.

“I have to make the rounds, but I’m thrilled to see you,” I say. Then, to Lena, “This is a giant bore. I’d rather be drunk on your couch watching Real Housewives.”

Lena laughs and shrugs. “The price of getting married, hun.”

Quite a price.

I excuse myself and snake through the crowd, managing a soft smile as people acknowledge me, congratulate me, tell me I look stunning or like a blushing bride, whatever that means.

I sneak past Reed and Veronica, only just now arriving.

I pass a few of Doug and Cheryl’s friends I know I’ve met but whom I don’t remember—they’re all old and white and dress in excessive tweed like they’re daughters and sons of the American Revolution. I wave and smile at some of Graham’s cousins and neighbors, their faces all blurring into one the more of them I see, until I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs, a spot from which I can see almost everyone in the room.

I look for Graham and find him standing by the bar, giving Reed an overenthusiastic hug and a pat on the back so rough I’m surprised it doesn’t make Reed choke on his old-fashioned. Then Molly crosses my eye line, walking toward Graham with a rocks glass and a tray with one lone antipasto skewer left. She stops and hands the glass to Graham, which he gleefully accepts despite the full one on the bar beside him. Reed notices this, too, but he doesn’t try to take the glass or make a scene. Instead, he takes the meat and cheese skewer and plops it into his mouth in one bite, dropping the toothpick back on the tray as Molly continues toward the kitchen.