sundress and flats, and she did seem filled with a newlywed bliss Liz had never really believed existed. By way of greeting, the bride held out her left hand to Kitty and Liz (Mary had decided not to attend the party), and an enormous emerald-cut diamond ring atop a diamond-encrusted wedding band caught the light. “We got them at Tiffany’s on the Magnificent Mile,” Lydia said. “They cost twenty thousand dollars altogether.”
“They’re pretty,” Liz said.
“Did Ham pay in cash?” Kitty asked.
Ham approached then, and though Liz detected in him an underlying wariness as they both leaned in to hug, he, too, seemed genuinely happy. “Congratulations,” Liz said. “Welcome to the family.”
“I realize this didn’t play out in the ideal way,” Ham said. “But I hope you know, Liz and Kitty, that I intend to honor and care for your sister.”
His earnestness was both touching and embarrassing; also, Liz was aware of scrutinizing his goatee in a way she hadn’t in the past. She murmured, “Of course.”
“I plan to keep trying with your parents,” he said. “I think it’s best to let them have some space for now, but I’m not giving up.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Liz said, and then a tall, red-haired woman she’d never met embraced Ham and, in doing so, interrupted the conversation.
About three dozen other guests—visibly athletic men and women in their twenties, thirties, and forties, plus a smattering of preppy young women who were childhood friends of Lydia’s—milled about. Ham’s house was a narrow and immaculate five-story dwelling in Mount Adams with a granite-filled kitchen and a roof deck. Setting her tequila and cider on the dining room table, where a bar had been assembled—there were, in fact, some bottles of champagne, one of which Liz poured from for herself—Liz was accosted by Jenny Teetelbaum, Lydia’s best friend from Seven Hills. At a normal volume, Jenny said, “Isn’t it crazy about Ham? I would never have guessed.” In the hope of setting an example, Liz lowered her own voice. “I’m excited for them,” she said.
“I hear your parents are freaking out,” Jenny said. “Which is so understandable.”
“Are you still teaching kindergarten?” Liz asked.
After hearing in detail about the whimsies of five-year-olds, Liz found herself in the living room, at the edge of a conversation about whether clean and jerks or burpee pull-ups were the single best CrossFit exercise, when Ham tapped a fork against his glass. He stood in front of the fireplace, Lydia beside him. “Thank you all for joining us tonight,” he said, and this remark alone prompted clapping and hoots. “I just want to say, on behalf of Lydia and me, we’re thrilled to have you celebrating with us, and we appreciate your support as we enter the next stage of our lives together. And I want to say to Lydia, baby, thank you for making me the happiest guy alive!” They turned their faces to kiss, and the cheering that ensued was positively uproarious. When the embrace ended, Lydia raised both her arms above her head like an Olympic skier who’d completed a victorious run. “Turn on the music!” she cried out, and Liz couldn’t tell if the first dance that followed, to Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” was planned or impromptu. That Lydia and Ham were in love seemed beyond doubt.
A few minutes later, while Lydia was dancing with Jenny Teetelbaum, Liz tapped her sister on the shoulder. “I’m headed out,” she said. “Congratulations again.”
Lydia’s expression was scornful. “It’s not even eleven!”
“I’m going back to New York in the morning. Lydia, I really hope you’ll get in touch with Mom and Dad.”
“Don’t nag me at our party.”
“They might be old and weird and narrow-minded, but they’re the only parents you have.”
“Oh my God, can you even stop for one second?” Lydia reached for Liz’s hand, grasped it, and began twirling under their linked arms. “Have you completely forgotten how to enjoy yourself?” Lydia asked, and Liz thought, Maybe.
She stepped in and hugged her loathsome, charming younger sister. “Keep me posted,” she said.
OUTSIDE, LIZ WALKED briskly to her father’s car and was just a few feet from it when she heard her name. She turned to see Ham jogging after her.
“You slipped out without giving me a chance to say thanks again for coming tonight. Really.”
“Thanks for including me,” Liz said automatically, and then they both were quiet, and Liz wondered if they would continue to be part of each other’s lives for decades to come—if Ham and