The card had been creased down the center and then opened back up.

Under the printed line for regrets, someone had written in loopy blue handwriting.

The letters slanted to the right, and the capitals were too big for the space.

I won’t be attending.

I hope the weather wrecks the tent.

Don’t expect any gift from me.

The loops climbed high on every letter.

Those same loops had run across the note Vanessa left on my kitchen counter after her first visit to the venue.