Bob is wearing a dapper vintage tuxedo, while Grace is dressed in elegant black slacks and a beaded jacket.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

They nod. Bob takes Grace’s arm, and we slowly make our way to the beach. This was Bob’s idea: he and Grace had been married on the beach—just the two of them—and he wanted to replicate that intimate memory before the mega-party his children had planned in the city next weekend. Evan will be driving them to dinner after sunset.

“I was hoping for better weather,” I say as we walk. “At least it stopped raining. Hopefully, it will clear up by sunset.”

“It hasn’t dampened our spirits,” Bob says. “Has it, cupcake?”

Grace stops and thumps her cane emphatically on the ground. “Not at all,” she says, before taking another step very slowly.

Evan looks at me, shaking his head in wonder at their determination. When we make it to the steep beach steps, Evan takes Grace’s left side, while Bob holds her right. When we reach the bottom, Grace kicks off her shoes and stamps her cane in the sand.

“We made it!” she crows.

When Grace finally looks up, she cries, “Bob! What have you done?”

Evan and I have set up a small tent with a table and beach chairs perched just-so on the lakeshore. Dean Martin’s voice wafts on the lake breeze.

That’s amore...

I rush over and grab the bottle of champagne we put on ice. Grace applauds when the cork pops. I fill two glasses as the couple approaches. They grow quiet when they see the cupcakes in the shape of a diamond sitting on a silver platter.

“What do we have here?” Grace asks. “It’s beautiful, Bob.”

“I wish I could take credit for this,” Bob says. “Adie Lou, what did you do?”

“It was Evan’s idea,” I say.

“Sixtieth anniversary is the diamond anniversary,” he says shyly. “And, well, cupcakes for your cupcake.”

Grace looks at Evan, her eyes brimming with tears. She opens her arms, and Evan hugs her tightly.

“Thank you,” she says. “You are about the sweetest soul I’ve ever met.” She lets go of Evan and looks at me. “You done good.”

“Thank you,” I say. “So did you.”

I hand them glasses of champagne and ease them into their beach chairs.

“Maybe it will still clear off for sunset,” I say, although steel-gray clouds are locked in over the lakeshore, and no one is on the beach. “We’ll let you two enjoy your champagne.”

Evan and I move toward the dunes. The silhouettes of Bob and Grace are as beautiful, delicate and fragile as the outlines of the dark waves, the dunes grass and the aspen trees.