Yikes. I’m tied up in a meeting for the next hour. Simon lives close by. Want me to see if he can go?

I barely knew Simon. Hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the soccer game the Saturday before, and even then our conversation had been brief. It seemed weird to ask this of him. But I was desperate. And he was Jamie’s brother. Hopefully, Jamie was on his way to being more than a casual acquaintance, so getting to know Simon was inevitable anyway. Do you think he would? That would be amazing.

Hamilton brothers to the rescue. Consider it done.

I texted him the details of exactly what I needed, including Gaspard’s translation of what spring greens for twenty-five salads equaled. He promised he’d get the details to Simon and let me know within five minutes if he couldn’t do it. When I didn’t hear back, I had to assume Simon had been willing.

I made my way back to the tent to make sure the ceremony was happening as it should. A trickle of sweat slid down my back, and I wondered, not for the first time, why anyone would want to get married outdoors in June. During the reception, we would turn on the large fans that now lined the edges of the open-sided tent, but they were too noisy for the ceremony. At least the ushers had passed out little handheld fans, and the tent provided a modicum of shade from the late afternoon sun.

With nothing amiss, I turned back and moved through the gardens to the parking lot, where hopefully Simon would be arriving soon, arugula in hand. I loved the gardens. Loved them. As much now as I had when I was a kid. They weren’t overly manicured. They were a little wild, with foliage thick enough to create lots of hidden corners and secret spots on the path. It was literally a “winding way” that meandered all over the southeastern corner of the grounds, leading to a tiny courtyard rose garden. I wasn’t sure if the garden was named for the inn or the inn led to the design of the garden. I’d have to ask Ida. Either way, it was my favorite place on the property.

A few minutes later, Simon pulled up. From everything Jamie had told me about his older brother, the dark-blue sedan he drove fit his personality perfectly. Steady. Reliable. Boring. Nothing like the bright-red jeep Jamie drove. Simon lifted two large paper grocery bags out of his car and handed them over.

“You are my hero.” I took the bags.

He slid his sunglasses up onto his head. “It’s no trouble. I didn’t have to go far.”

“Yeah, Jamie said you live around here, which surprised me. A Duke grad living over here in Chapel Hill. Isn’t that against your code of ethics or something?”