“And move the business guests away from the service doors.”

Emily shifted two cards.

“If I move those, Uncle Peter will be sitting with the people he spent the whole summer avoiding.”

“Then perhaps he’ll have something new to talk about,” I said.

Emily laughed.

“That would require him to stop talking long enough to listen.”

For a few minutes, we were simply four people trying to fit too many names onto too few tables.

Linda had ordered folded linen napkins for the Sea Pines Grand Club dinner, and she was concerned that the place cards might not match the final seating chart.