The most fabulous thing about the release of The Whole Package, and now Marriage Matters, has been the opportunity to connect with readers, both new friends and old. Thank you so much for your support!
Endless gratitude to the one and only Wendy McCurdy, the best editor ever and the queen of depth, insight and kindness. A huge thank-you to everyone at Berkley: Katherine Pelz, publicity, the sales team, the art department, and everyone who works to make your books amazing.
Daniel Lazar at Writer’s House, the greatest day of my writerly life was finding you. Thank you for being consistently awesome.
Jon Cassir at CAA, for the confidence and Cali sunshine.
Lexington, Kentucky, for the incredible support. What a remarkable community. The staff at the Morris Book Shop and Joseph Beth’s Bookstore—two of the coolest bookstores in the country—for getting the word out. The Carnegie Center—home to my first reading ever!—for your commitment to the literary arts. To every friend who shared a wedding story.
Bud’s Coffee Shop in Interlochen, Michigan—the first draft was composed by your fire. Mr. Delp at Interlochen, for telling me to be a writer.
Traveler’s Bookcase in Los Angeles for the travel inspiration. Natalie Compagno, who encouraged me to pick up the pen and Laksa soup so long ago. Love to you.
The members of my writing group: Jennifer Mattox, Frankie Finley and Stephanie Parkin. I cherish our Fridays and your brilliant notes.
Kathy Ellingsen, for a perfect title and for being the best mother-in-law ever. Grandma, for always making me laugh. All of my family and friends, for the humor and support.
And in every way, my husband, Ryan Ellingsen: You are my love story, forever.
When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
—Nora Ephron
Contents
Cover
Praise
Also By Cynthia Ellingsen
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Part One
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Part Two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
Fifty-two
Fifty-three
Fifty-four
Fifty-five
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Sixty
Sixty-one
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Sixty-seven
Sixty-eight
Sixty-nine
Seventy
Seventy-one
Seventy-two
Seventy-three
Seventy-four
Seventy-five
Seventy-six
Seventy-seven
Seventy-eight
Seventy-nine
Eighty
Eighty-one
Eighty-two
One
Chloe McCallister was just not into getting all dressed up. Give her a nice pair of jeans, a comfy T-shirt and some tennis shoes and she was happy. Her mother and grandmother knew this, so now that she was stuck walking down a rocky beach in a pair of three-inch heels, they seemed to be getting way too much enjoyment out of her misery.
“Just pretend you’re on a sandy runway,” her grandmother called. “Work it.”
Chloe’s mother cheered. “You can do it. You’re almost there!”
On principle, Chloe came to a complete stop. Almost where? They were standing on the shores of Lake Michigan, with no wedding in sight. The Sleeping Bear Dunes loomed overhead like something from another planet, while herons dove in and out of the water, hunting for prey. She could only hope that fish would remain more appealing than the silver clip holding back her curly hair.
Tugging at her dress, Chloe wished she’d taken the time to pack properly instead of waiting until the last minute, grabbing the first party dress she saw and stuffing it into her suitcase. The dress was a size too small and it bit into the sensitive skin under her arms. Plus, she’d forgotten all about bringing a pair of shoes, which was why she was wearing her grandmother’s extra pair of stilettos. At 5'10", Chloe was much too tall to be wearing heels in the first place, not to mention ones made of animal skin that was most certainly illegal in civilized countries.
Chloe sighed. Weddings had really gotten out of control. Wasn’t it enough that they’d taken a flight and rental car to get to the destination? Did it have to be out in the middle of nowhere, too?
If anyone ever decided to marry her, Chloe planned to keep her wedding simple. It would be at a small church, with only her closest friends and family. She would wear ballet flats with her dress, marry the man of her dreams and have a wedding cake with frosting that sparkled. For the father-daughter dance, she might even just rock out to “Teach Me How to Dougie.”
A fun fantasy, but Chloe knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Especially considering the last time she’d even caught a glimpse of the male anatomy was on a biology test for her grad finals.
“Chloe, come on,” her mother called, shielding her eyes against the sun. “This wedding’s going to happen with or without us. Pick up the pace.”
“Not until you tell me exactly where it is that we’re going!”
As her mother and grandmother exchanged glances, Chloe felt the first twinge of trepidation. It evolved into full-fledged panic when her grandmother, like an elderly