“Well, of course he is,” Harriet said. “But I guarantee you whatever he’s feeling has got nothing on childbirth, and I got through that three times without offending half the hospital.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “You know he can’t keep a dental hygienist? The longest one ever held on was three months, and she was deaf in one ear. I swear, once this wedding is over and he’s out, I’m going into hiding myself.”

“A retreat must sound like a good idea just about now.”

Harriet snorted. “To hell with retreats, I’m thinking Mexico, or Bermuda maybe. Can we get down to it, sugar? I’m running late.”

Angie cast a longing glance at the closed darkroom door and the red light burning above it. There would be no rescue from Rivera, and so she sat with Harriet Darling and took exhaustive notes about a wedding that was not supposed to happen. Because the groom had already backed out, but Harriet Darling didn’t know that. Angie tried not to think of Harriet’s reaction when she finally found out that all this rushing around had been for nothing.

“You all right?” Harriet asked. “You’re looking a little pale. I hope the Liars didn’t keep you up too late.” She winked suggestively and laughed.

“They were very sweet,” Angie said.

“Well, you were worth every penny. Didn’t you look a treat? I swear, girl, I don’t know why you dress the way you do. I’ve seen nuns with more fashion sense.” And then she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s okay,” Angie said. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. My mother is always after me about clothes.”

“Tell you what,” Harriet said. “After the wedding, once Tab is out of the hospital and on his feet, I’m going to start looking for an apartment. You help me with that, and I’ll take you shopping.” Her eyes gleamed at the thought. “We can spend the day in Savannah, get you a whole new wardrobe.”

Angie was trying to find a way to let Harriet down easily when Rivera popped her head out of the darkroom.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen,” she said. And: “Hey, Harriet.”

“I’ve got to go too,” Harriet said, her expression suddenly much more subdued. She stood up and wiggled so that the crease in her linen slacks fell into place. “Rivera, I don’t know if you realize it, but it’s likely you’re going to get some nasty comments, now that people know—” She tilted her head. “After what happened at the picnic auction. I hope you’re ready for that.”

There wasn’t exactly disapproval in her tone, but something of a frustrated mother scolding a teenager daughter, one who had gone against all good advice and now had to face the consequences.