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between us. “Louise, did I just hear that you and Noah are marrying on Halloween—in costume? How festive!”
    Eloise, I corrected mentally. Why waste the breath? Besides, the woman was already deep in conversation about whether Cousin Marcy was carrying high or low and whether that meant she was pregnant with a boy or a girl.
    I turned back to my future mother-in-law. “Mrs. Benjamin, the dress is a little different, but—”
    Mrs. Benjamin leaned close. “Dear, a wedding is no time for different. But don’t you worry—I saw the most beautiful bridesmaid dress today, and I took it upon myself to put a deposit on five of them. Don’t even try to thank me—that’s what a mother-in-law is for! The dress is a lovely deep purple taffeta with cute little polka-dot bows on the neckline and a festive bow at the back waistline. Beth, as you know, looks great in jewel tones.”
    “Um, Mrs. Benjamin, the magazine feature—”
    She waved her hand. “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing! Once your boss sees these dresses, I’m sure she’ll want to feature them in the magazine.”
    “Mrs. Benjamin—” I waited for her to say, Dear, call me Dottie, we’re family, but she never did. “I hope you can get back your deposit. The bridesmaids’ dresses are a done deal. Yes, they’re a little different, but—”
    “Different?” repeated Beth, appearing out of nowhere behind very pregnant cousin Marcy. “It’s hideous. I’m not wearing it. I’m a size fourteen if you haven’t noticed, and there’s no way that skintight thing will look good on me.”
    Be kind, she’s going through a divorce, I mentally chanted.
    “The color’s great on you, though,” I said.
    Mrs. Benjamin and Beth Benjamin eyed me as though I were speaking Swahili, as they often did at family functions.
    Two of the kids began feeding the little dog Play-Doh, and Mrs. Benjamin ran off to save it. Beth slunk away, and I was back to my books and inability to shut out conversations about me.
    “I hear they’re getting married on Halloween.”
    “Their wedding is a costume party.”
    “What? What kind of nonsense is that?”
    “It’s bad luck is what it is!”
    “Ooh, I’m going to go as Jay Leno. I bought a rubber mask of his face last year.”
    “I just met Eloise’s mother. Lovely woman.”
    I raised my eyebrow at that one. What I would do to meet my mother at this party, chat with her for a little while. Hear her voice. The voice of reason, at that.
    “We can sneak out if you’re dying,” Noah whispered in my ear. “There are so many people here, no one will notice.”
    Effectively reminding me of why I had said yes all over again.
     
    Sunday morning, Noah and I got into a huge fight.
    “You’re mad at me because I drank the last of the Diet Coke?” he asked.
    I stood in the doorway to the bedroom, waving the empty soda bottle at him. “Whoever drinks the last of the soda has to either buy more or write Buy More Soda on the fridge!”
    “Fine. I’m sorry. I will.”
    “Oh, like you can buy soda from Chicago,” I snapped.
    “What?”
    “Stay home,” I said. “Blow off the trip. Who cares if Oprah is rumored to be marrying Steadman in a secret ceremony on air?”
    “Eloise, I can’t not go,” he said. “It’s my job.”
    Sometimes I wanted his job to be being my fiancé.
    “Are you mad that I drank the last of the soda or that I’m going away?”
    “That you’re going away,” I admitted, and slunk down on a chair like a sulking child.
    He sat down next to me. “Sweetie, being an investigative journalist means hitting the road. I’m very likely going to be traveling a lot forever.”
    But—
    “Eloise, I know it’s hard on us as a couple, but I love you and you love me and—”
    “‘We’re a happ-y fam-i-ly’?”
    “What?”
    Noah didn’t do much baby-sitting for two-year-olds and have the preschool crowd’s theme songs down pat.
    “I’ll be all right,” I said. “I’ve just got a lot on my