He nodded. Angie watched his eyes as he talked about what was going to happen. Caroline had wanted to call all the wedding guests and tell them that what they’d be attending tomorrow would be a going-away party instead of a marriage ceremony; Harriet, Connie, and Pearl had lobbied for a tactical delay. If she spent one more night thinking through the long-term repercussions of her choices, they would surrender their worries and doubts and support her decision. What they were hoping, John said, was that she would come to her senses overnight and wake up eager to get into her wedding dress.

“And they all just assumed you’d go along with whatever she decided, one way or the other?”

His mouth jerked at the corner. “Kai pointed that out, but nobody listened. Later Caroline took me aside and said I didn’t need to worry, there would be no more changes to her plans, no matter what her sisters were hoping for.”

John put back his head and laughed up into the sky. “I am such an idiot,” he said. He sounded relieved and bitter and confused; he sounded angry. He was blaming himself, but for what? How badly he had misread Caroline? Or maybe he realized, on some level, that she hadn’t been telling the whole truth.

“You’re not the idiot,” Angie said. “Caroline lied to you.”

He was looking at her, silent, appraising. “It takes two to lie, Marge. One to lie, and one to listen.”

“If you’re going to start quoting Homer Simpson, I’ll concede right now.” Angie’s voice came sharp and unpleasant, and she got up to move away but he caught her by the shirttail.

“Hey,” John said softly. “Hey. Settle down.”

She made herself do just that. She lay down next to him on the cool grass and took stock. His arms were solid and strong around her, his breathing was even. Her choices were to stay like this and let him come to a peaceful place with the situation Caroline had handed him, or she could go find Rivera and get the rest of the story. Because she had come to the end of her own patience.

He was saying, “So here’s the deal. I have to show up tomorrow at Old Roses at ten o’clock. Caroline asked me to stand there with her and her family when she makes her announcement.”

“Where is she now?” Angie asked.

He turned his head to her. “She went back to Old Roses. Where else would she be?”

Angie sat up and looked toward Ivy House. The screened porch was dark, but the door to the kitchen was open, a perfect rectangle of blinding white light, and framed in its middle was Caroline.

John said, “Or maybe not. What is she doing here?”