I had no answer for that.

It sounded like a sentence she had rehearsed while I was making lists of chairs and table numbers.

At last I said, “Then you have to start telling me the truth.”

She looked at me, and for the first time that morning I saw fear rather than determination.

“I know.”

She put the jacket over her arm and went toward the office.

I stayed by the counter, with Julian’s name, the number fourteen, and a wedding that no longer seemed ready to begin.