Kaitlyn’s voice had died in her throat, so I finished the sentence for her, from memory, because I had read it enough times to recite it in my sleep. “In the event of cancellation by the account holder, the deposit of twelve thousand dollars shall be refunded in full to the account holder, less a processing fee, provided notice is given more than ten days before the event.” I folded my hands. “I gave notice on the eleventh day, Kaitlyn. One day inside the window. The money comes back to me. All of it.”

Kaitlyn made a sound like a kettle starting to whistle. Mason finally spoke, his voice cracking. “Grandma, please, the wedding is in eleven days, we have nowhere—” Then the knock came. I opened the door, and there stood Diane with her reading glasses on their chain, holding a manila envelope, and beside her stood a second woman I did not know, in a crisp blazer, carrying a leather portfolio. Diane smiled at me kindly and said, “Mrs. Voss, I brought your refund confirmation. And I brought someone who very much wants the June 20th date.”