“The Cast-Asides?” Amy says.

Dennis shakes his head with that look on his face that tells her he thinks she’s crazy but in the best possible way. “How about we just call it Love Story?” he says.

“I think that’s already a book,” Amy says.

Vivi

“They should call it The Rebound,” Vivi says.

“What Amy and Dennis have is more than just a rebound,” Martha says.

“It is?” Vivi says. “Seriously?” She smiles. She finds she feels happy about this.

There’s only one more chance for Vivi to travel back.

She chooses Willa’s wedding.

It’s June 13 of the year before. The weather is spectacular. It is, as Vivi’s mother used to say, one of “God’s days.”

Vivi has abandoned her suspicions that Rip is “not enough” for Willa, and she now wholeheartedly embraces the union. Today, Willa is getting what she has wanted since she was twelve years old and attended the Valentine’s Day dance with Rip at the Boys and Girls Club. She’s marrying the only man she’s ever loved. Vivi has written about all kinds of love stories in her twelve novels, but she has never written about two people meeting in high school and making it work.

Why not? she wonders. She thinks about Brett Caspian and the roller-coaster ride of their romance. She has kept that story tucked safely inside of her for decades, but what if she brought it to the surface and used it? What if she wrote a novel about her and Brett?

She decides to think about it later. Right now, she wants to focus on her daughter.

Willa, Carson, and Vivi get ready together at Money Pit. Vivi has made a spectacular fruit salad (she went to the trouble of peeling six kiwis, even though nobody ever eats them), and right after her run, she picked up cheddar scones from Born and Bread.

Only Carson eats. Willa is too nervous, Vivi too excited.

Vivi opens a bottle of vintage Veuve Clicquot and makes mimosas with fresh-squeezed juice. Willa is in her slip, her hair damp. Carson is giving Willa a chignon with braid (they all looked through thousands of pictures online and picked this style) and there’s a gentleman named Rafe coming from Darya’s salon to do all of their makeup. Laurie Richards, the photographer, is due to show up any minute to take “getting ready” pictures. But right now, it’s just Vivi and her two daughters. They’re in Vivi’s bedroom, which resembles a college dorm—her mattress and box spring are on the floor, her running clothes spill out of a jute basket by the side of a dresser she got at the Take-It-or-Leave-It at the town dump. The top of the dresser is littered with candles that Vivi lights for atmosphere; there are also receipts, pens, safety pins, a brush, half a dozen red lipsticks, and a pack of matches from 21 Federal, where she and JP went on their first dinner date. In other words, the room is a disaster. Vivi can’t have Laurie take pictures in here—or can she? So many things in Vivi’s life are works in progress (she will renovate this room eventually; she wants a round bed, some kind of cool light fixture, a boho-chic vibe), but this moment is plucked straight from Vivi’s dreams. Shawn Mendes is singing “Treat You Better” over the wireless speaker. (Willa is an unapologetic top-forty fan and always has been.)

“My beautiful girls,” Vivi says. She knows they’ll both protest if she gets overly “emo,” but how can she help herself? Her oldest child is getting married, her younger daughter is the maid of honor. Would someone please tell Vivi where the years went? It feels like she just brought Willa home from the hospital, just burst into tears because Lucinda said she “loathed” the name and JP had to explain that they (Vivi) had decided to name the baby after Willa Cather, the writer. (“First children are to be named after family,” Lucinda said. “Is Willa Cather family?”)

What about the eternity Vivi lived through when Willa was a toddler, going to the Children’s House half a day, and Carson was a baby? Then it felt like a second eternity when they were both small, Willa six and Carson three, and Leo entered the world. The girls started battling for Vivi’s remaining attention; there was name-calling and hair-pulling. Willa threw the remote control during an episode of Caillou and hit Carson above the eye (stitches). Carson bit Willa during bath time and broke the skin. (JP had joked about a rabies test and Vivi, delirious with lack of sleep, had laughed.)

Vivi raises her glass and the girls do as well. Through her tears, Vivi sees their three flutes come together; Shawn Mendes gives way to Lady Gaga. Vivi grants herself a moment of congratulations. She got her girls this far. Willa and Carson have always loved each other. And today, they like each other.

“To you, Willie,” Carson says.

Willa smiles. She looks as beautiful as Vivi has ever seen her—without her hair done, without makeup, without wearing the ivory silk dress that hangs on the back of Vivi’s closet door—because she is illuminated from within. Lit by love.

The florist has outdone herself with pink roses, pink lilies, and ivy. The bridesmaids are in blush, the groomsmen in navy blazers, Nantucket Reds, and matching blush bow ties. There’s a string quartet playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D. As mother of the bride, Vivi is the last person to be shown to her seat before the processional. She’s on the arm of Zach Bridgeman, with Dennis following a pace behind in his too-tight gray suit pants. Zach seats Vivi and Dennis in a pew with Amy, who was escorted down just before Tink Bonham. Amy pretends to be absorbed in the program.

When the bridesmaids come walking in, Vivi beams at the girls and winks at Carson, but she—and everyone else in the church—is waiting to see Willa.

Jeremiah Burke’s Trumpet Voluntary begins. Everyone stands and Vivi turns. Willa and JP appear in the entryway; there’s a collective intake of breath throughout the church.

Vivi quickly checks on Rip and sees his eyes shining with tears. He looks exactly as he should—as though there is no other woman in the world. There never has been, Vivi thinks with confidence. And never will be.

After the ceremony, Willa and Rip climb into a horse-drawn carriage that will take them to the Field and Oar Club. All the guests are walking over except for Lucinda and Penny Rosen, who are being driven by JP and Amy.

Dennis is busy chatting with Joe DeSantis, so Vivi links her arm through Savannah’s. She has strolled the streets of town thousands of times but today is the day of her daughter’s wedding, so it feels distinctive.

“So far, so good,” Savannah says. “Everyone’s being civil.” She means Amy. She means Dennis.

“Of course,” Vivi says. “We’re all adults.”

Vivi sounds a little more confident than she feels. The ceremony was the easy part; Vivi has reservations about the reception. She resents that JP insisted that Willa hold it at the Field and Oar, a club that didn’t readmit Vivi after the divorce. JP and Amy will seem like the hosts when, in fact, Vivi is the one footing the bill.

High road, she reminds herself. She prefers life on the high road! The Field and Oar throws a beautiful wedding. Vivi got married there herself.

The family and the wedding party take pictures on the lawn. Vivi is wearing a peach silk slip dress which is maybe a touch sexy for a fifty-year-old mother of the bride, but it’s nowhere near as attention-grabbing as what Amy has on. She’s in an amethyst column dress with a neckline that plunges nearly to the navel and shows an eye-popping amount of skin. Amy seems to regret her choice of dress; she tugs and adjusts, smiles awkwardly, then tugs and adjusts some more. Eventually, she disappears, and when she returns, the neckline has been clumsily secured with a safety pin.