“If you’re going to dance, move that champagne glass away from the edge of the table, hon!” “Hey, Lara,” Kate called over to the living room.

Kate gave Sabrina a look, then glanced pointedly at the couch where Lara and Gabby were singing a very off-key rendition of a Christina Aguilera song Kate hadn’t heard in at least a decade. Note card telling her that an egg sandwich on a bagel and coffee will be arriving at ten thirty a.m.” “Hangover kit for tomorrow,” Kate said, reaching out and pulling the basket closer. “What’s this?” Sabrina asked, gesturing at a basket on the counter. The most recent of said festivities being one (or twelve) rounds of Moscow Mules from testicle-shaped cups. Gabby had moved to London with her boyfriend a year earlier but had flown back to New York for the wedding festivities. “Guess those drinks took effect,” she said as Lara twirled away to join her best friend and former roommate, Gabby, on the couch. She shouted the last word, and Kate laughed at her friend’s uncharacteristic giddiness. Impressively, she managed not to spill a drop of the champagne, despite the definite tipsy wobble she had going on.

In response, Lara pushed her glasses up her nose and then spun in a circle, the white tutu Kate had bought her for the occasional whirling fanning out around her. “So elegant.” She reached out to adjust Lara’s crooked tiara.

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