“Riley is going to talk to Zeke about where he goes.”

Alexis dropped her head to the steering wheel and moaned. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not, but it’s not such a bad idea. You’re not willing to talk to your husband about it and someone has to get the truth. Once you know he’s not running around, you’ll feel better.” Gracie touched her sister’s arm. “If you’d just talk to him yourself,” she began.

Alexis opened the driver’s door. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. I’m not sure I want to know what he’s doing. If he is fooling around…” She swallowed. “I don’t want to have to leave him, but I will.”

Gracie didn’t want to be having this conversation or any other, at the moment. She had only been home a couple of days and already a week of root canals seemed so much more pleasant.

“Why don’t you wait and find out the truth?” she asked softly.

“Good point. I will. Are you coming in?” Alexis jerked her head toward the house.

At this point Gracie was more than ready to escape to her rental, but she nodded and stepped out of the car. She would duck inside, yell out a greeting and leave. She could rationalize the decision by saying she had to unpack, but the truth was she wanted to be gone because she needed some distance. Too much family stuff too quickly, she thought.

They walked toward the house. As Alexis pulled open the front door, Gracie realized she could hear shouting inside.

“That can’t be good,” she said.

“Sounds like Vivian.” Alexis shook her head. “I hope the wedding isn’t off again.”

“What? Off?” But before Gracie could press for details, her sister had stepped into the house. Gracie trailed after her.

Vivian stood in the center of the room, her face streaked with tears and bleeding mascara, her hands on her hips, her mouth petulant. Their mother sat on the sofa, several brides magazines open on the coffee table.