Well, the high-peaked tent looks like one, festive as something from my namesake’s Camelot, with blue and white streamers-Stony Bay High colors-flapping in the wind from the tops of the canvas turrets, twinkling white lights wrapped in the rafters and looped around the poles, and blue and white flowers everywhere. Set up on the wide square green between Low Road and Beach Road, where Seashell weddings are always held, is a castle. He slants his hand against my jaw, tips his mouth to mine. “It’s not about a jumbo box of condoms,” I say. He walks over slowly, sets his hands on either side of where I’m standing by the kitchen counter. We all want to be the Band-Aid you rip off fast.” “I think we need to get this over with,” I blurt out. I curl my toes, raise my chin, act like this is all easy for me. He looks me over, my hair, my black halter top dress, my bare feet. His eyes flick to mine and he drops the towel he’s rubbing through his hair to the ground. He opens the door, letting out a cloud of steam. I hover over the bed, unsure, when Cass calls out, “Can I-?” I flip the comforter straight, fluff the pillowcases, then feel a little weird and want to switch them back to the way they were. Then I light one candle at a burner, use that to light the next, then the next, and the next until the darkened room glows gently.

I hurry back inside to the kitchen, adjust the sagging Dockside Delight bag I’d set on the counter. Luckily, the yard boy hasn’t been wielding his hedge clippers on the Field House shrubbery the canvas bag I hid beneath the bushes was protected. In Cass’s room, I embellish his bureau with candles, set them on the nightstand, line them on the windowsill. Even though I’ve thought about it, planned it, know it’s right. I can’t do anything about the light through the window, or the fact that I left what I brought outside in the rain. Candles, roses, soft romantic music, gentle golden light coming through a window. Mom’s books, Grandpa’s movies-I know all about the things that spell romance. “Maybe just go in and wait? You are planning to let me out, right?” Oh, God.” I cover my eyes with a hand, lower it. Just give me five minutes.”Ĭass studies me, then asks warily, “I need a shower? Do I-”

What i thought was true