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hasn’t worn a dress shirt since—well, since never. For Mom’s funeral, he wore his Marine dress uniform.
    Seriously disturbed, I let myself into the house.
    I tripped over Chloe’s backpack as I walked into the living room. There was a pile of laundry on a chair—clean or dirty, I couldn’t tell. The dirty dishes were still in the sink.
    At least some things never changed, and the constancy was oddly reassuring.

Chapter Four
     
     
    If circumstances are favorable, you should modify your plans.
    — Sun Tzu, The Art of War
     
    I called the church the next morning from work. “Hi. Who do I need to talk to about booking a wedding?”
    “I can help you with that.”
    “Great.” I breathed a sigh of relief. The woman sounded efficient and knowledgeable. I hoped she’d be able to tell me exactly what I needed to do.
    “Are you a member of our church?”
    “Uh, yes?”
    A pause. “You’re not sure?”
    “Well, we were all baptized there, but it’s been a long time since we’ve attended services. Does it make a difference?”
    “We have a discounted rate for members, but you can still use the church even if you aren’t one.”
    “Oh.”
    “But since you were baptized here, you’d count as part of the parish.”
    “Oh good.”
    There was some clacking like she was using a keyboard. “What’s your name?”
    “Grace Connors. But the wedding is my sister’s. Penelope.”
    “And your sister’s fiancé‘s name?”
    “Riley Neill.”
    More tapping. “Were either married before?”
    “Uh, no?”
    The tapping stopped. “You don’t know?”
    “Well, Nell hasn’t been. I’m not sure about Riley.”
    “Your sister goes by Nell? Does she realize her name’s going to be Nell Neill?”
    I tried not to snicker. “It’s been pointed out.”
    “Okay, next question.” The clacking started again. “Will they be using our minister or bringing in their own officiant?”
    “Well…”
    “You don’t know.” She didn’t sound surprised. “Because if they want our minister to perform the ceremony, they’ll need to go through secular pre-marital counseling.”
    “I’ll need to ask them.”
    “Will the reception be at the church? How many people do you anticipate attending? Do you know how many pews you’ll need reserved?”
    I started to sweat. “Um—”
    “We’ll need to know whether you’ll want flowers on the ends of the pews or candles, or a special runner down the aisle. You’ll also need to let us know if you want communion during the ceremony. Oh, and whether or not you’d like to book the organist. I’d highly recommend him, but if you want a vocalist, bring in your own.”
    “Okay,” I replied hesitantly, only because she seemed to be waiting for something from me.
    She sighed. “Maybe we should look at dates. Hold on a second while I pull up our calendar.”
    Serene flute music flooded the receiver. I beat my foot in time with it while I waited for the efficient woman to come back on the line.
    Her crisp voice replaced the music. “When is the wedding taking place?”
    I could answer this one. “October.”
    “What day in October?”
    I racked my brain, trying to remember if Nell and Riley had mentioned an actual date for the wedding. I decided to play it safe. “Saturday?”
    “Hmm.” More rustling. “All the Saturdays in October are already booked.”
    “They are?”
    “Yes. For Saturday weddings we’re booking a year ahead of time.”
    What was the world coming to when you had to wait a year to get married on a Saturday? “How about Friday nights?”
    “Booked. And we only reserve Fridays and Saturdays for weddings.” A few clicks. “The next available date we have is in January.”
    I wrinkled my nose, wondering how Nell would feel about that.
    The woman sighed again. “How about if I get your address and send you a brochure? You can discuss it with your sister and get back to me.”
    I almost saluted and said “Yes, ma’am!” I gave her our address and