“Wow. I knew you’d been overruled on the whole ‘small wedding’ thing, but I don’t think I had a concept of by just how much until this very moment.”

Rose and I stood in her kitchen, staring at the boxes of wedding invitations and envelopes that covered the island.

“Allen’s family is pretty big to begin with, and then there were all these business contacts his parents wanted to invite because of the centennial and just making a big show of everything.”

“The antiques world must be thriving,” I said, wriggling a butter knife under the seal to pop open the first box. Cream colored envelopes were stacked neatly inside. I pulled one out and immediately noticed something.

“Rose,” I said, staring intently at her. “These envelopes are blank.”

She reached into a kitchen drawer and pulled out a stack of printer paper, lined with row upon row of what I could see were addresses.

“So, Allen’s mom said that no one personalizes things anymore and it’s such a travesty, and I know that you genuinely do have lovely handwriting so…”

“I rescind all guilt over the rent,” I said, glaring at her.

“I know it’s a lot, but if we split it it’ll be fine. I had meant for us to do it this weekend, but after everything with Allen and the store…” Rose trailed off, sighing heavily. I knew she still felt uneasy about all that had transpired, even if her fiance was insisting upon business as usual. Allen and his father had even reopened the store already, basically the minute the police tape had come down.

Keeping my grumbling to a minimum, I grabbed a box of envelopes and made my way to the dining room table. Rose followed with calligraphy pens she’d pulled from who knew where, and handed me the top half of the list.

“I love you and you can’t be mad at the bride,” she said, all in one breath. I waved her off as I pulled the first invitation from the box, stuffing it none-too-gently in its holder.

Mr. and Mrs. Alfie Abbott, I wrote in a curling script. This was going to be a long day.

***

An hour later I had made it through the Cs. I set my pen down and leaned back in a stretch, hearing joints pop ominously. Glancing over I saw that my stack of completed cards was almost double Rose's-- I watched her with her tongue between her teeth, carefully trying to mimic my scrawl.

“It’s OK if they don’t all look the same, you know,” I said, smiling at her. “It’s not like people will compare their envelopes.”

“I know, but your handwriting is so pretty and mine is so normal. It would just look so much better if they were all in your hand…”

“Not on your life,” I said, booping her nose with my pen to disrupt the puppy dog eyes I knew she was about to make. “You decided to have this whole shindig so you’ve got to suffer at least a little.”

“Some Man of Honor you are,” she muttered darkly.

“What’s that?” I asked. I grabbed my hand in mock horror. “Oh no, I think I feel a cramp coming on! It’s so strong I may never write again!”

“Noooo, not the best Man of Honor that ever was or ever will be!”

“Oh look at that, the cramp’s passing.”

Rose stuck her tongue out at me but we each resumed our cards. I had just finished Dr. and Mr. Dazell when I flipped the address page and saw Jasmin Decker and Guest, followed by Riley Decker and Guest. Reacting automatically my eyes flicked down to the address listed under Riley’s name. It was for a mailbox… in Wild Haven.