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they were—the Morrisons—living in a house big enough to grow any family larger than life. Theirs was a home full of activity and noise and the aroma of pot roast, a house where Cooper had grown from the boy I saw at school into the man who had asked me to marry him. Music (Sinatra and Tony Bennett, mostly) was always playing on their stereo. Louise made her husband a whiskey sour neat at exactly 5:00 P.M. The holidays were steeped in secular traditions, with no interruption in the form of church services.
    I wanted this family. I wanted them to be mine. I wanted to be theirs.
    Louise was quiet and kind, smiling at me like you would greet a new and sun-filled day. Averitt was distant but benevolent, like a lowercase god smiling down on me with warmth. I’d believed the shimmering image I’d seen, and it wasn’t until our wedding day that I realized the truth.
    Standing in the back of the vestibule, holding my lace gloves in my right hand while Willa held my bouquet, we waited for the organ music to start for the seating of the parents. I idled slowly out of the bride’s room, ready. Willa and I hid, hushing each other, behind a pillar. Mom had already been seated. Louise stood erect behind the closed double doors, waiting for them to open. Averitt was already at the altar as Cooper’s best man.
    Louise wore a gold lamé dress that day. Her hair was piled high in a Q-tip imitation. Her red lipstick had bled into the lines around her mouth, and I saw this as she turned to the wedding coordinator—her best friend, Lina, whom she’d hired to make sure I did everything right—and said in a clipped but firm tone, “So he’s going through with this, isn’t he?”
    Lina nodded, her hand on the door handle ready to open it.
    â€œMy only son, and this is what I get for loving him so much. He goes and marries a girl way beneath him.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I swear, I thought he’d back out at the last minute.” She stood taller and exhaled through pursed lips as Lina opened the door. Organ music flowed down the aisle.
    Willa grabbed my hand. “Witch.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” I said. “I get it. They wanted someone different. But it’ll be okay. Cooper loves me.”
    â€œThey have no idea, no idea at all, that they are the luckiest people in the world. Cooper could never have, at any time, in any way, found a woman like you. He’s not the catch; you are.”
    I smiled at Willa and pulled on my gloves before reaching for the bouquet. “Let’s go.”
    *   *   *
    Cooper’s home now, deep in his Percocet sleep. I need to call both Averitt and Louise. If someone else tells them about the accident before I do, it will be another thing to add to the list of my great blunders. I push number three on my speed dial.
    â€œHello, Eve.” It’s Louise who answers, and she greets me with the soft voice I once took to mean she loved me but now think of as the whitewash on disdain.
    â€œLouise,” I say. “How are you this morning?”
    â€œI’m fine, darling. How are you?”
    â€œI’m okay, but I need to tell you that Cooper was in a car accident. He’s okay, Louise. He has some deep cuts and bruises, but he’s okay.”
    â€œOh. Oh, my baby.”
    â€œHe’s okay, Louise. Awake and home.”
    â€œHow is he hurt? Where is he hurt?” Her voice cracks.
    â€œHis face,” I say quietly.
    â€œNo. Not his face.” Her pause is long enough that I think she might have hung up, until she says, “I’m coming now.”
    â€œI know you want to. I know you want to help, but right now he’s finally asleep. I promise I’ll call as soon as he wakes up.”
    â€œBut he’s … okay, right?” I can hear she’s on the edge of crying.
    â€œHe is. Just a lot of stitches and pain. There will be more surgeries. But that