I guessed she was right. Amelia had always been so strong-willed. I didn’t know where she got it.

“And don’t you see, Liz?”

I didn’t see.

“Amelia will get pregnant with Parker’s baby, and they will be together all the time, and they will see what we have known for years.”

I gasped. “That they’re meant for each other.” I paused. “So this is a good thing?”

“I think it could be, if we play our cards right.” Liv got up and began collecting the linen napkins from the table.

I nodded furiously. “We need them here, where we can keep an eye on them, make sure they fall in love.”

“Liz, it’s too good. I’ll make sure the guest quarters are perfect, and they’ll be playing house and having this baby together, and they won’t be able to help but see how beautiful a couple they make.”

“But we’ll have to protest,” I said as she set the napkins on the buffet. They were beautifully monogrammed linen, but they had not been in her family for generations. I got another pang at the thought of letting go of my home.

“Oh, of course. I will have a fit about them living together, that kind of thing—”

“Which will only spur them on,” I finished for her.

We shared a wide smile, and I took a sip of tea as she disappeared into the kitchen. Liv and I would be in-laws yet.

Parker RUN OF THE MILL

THE LAST TIME I HAD been this nervous about going to talk to George, I had asked him if I could marry Greer. I knew he liked me, but there’s a huge difference between liking someone and thinking they are a suitable husband for your baby girl.

George was a man much like the men I had grown up with. Large and imposing, he wore a suit and tie every day, chewed the end of a cigar, and used words like “acumen” and “acrimonious.” Men of his generation were raised not to let people know what they were thinking. And George’s parents had done a top-notch job, because I could never, ever tell what George McCann was thinking.

Greer would come home and tell me how over the moon her family was for me, and I would think, Really? Even your father?

George had had an incredibly difficult time with his wife’s death, and his pain was so palpable that you could almost smell it before you reached him. I knew that Greer’s wedding would bring up a whole flood of emotions for him. A part of me wished we had just gone ahead and gotten married three months in so that Karen could have seen the wedding. She would have loved that.

Six years earlier, George had said stoically, “I’m not losing a daughter. I’m gaining a son.” Then he slapped me on the back and poured me some scotch. But this talk was different. This wasn’t something as run-of-the-mill as a proposal. This wasn’t run-of-the-mill at all.