But on Thursday morning I had, unbelievably, nothing on my calendar so I spent the morning lolling in bed with my honey. I described the breaking glass incident. “The glass must have had a crack,” he guessed. “So that when the waiter poured the cold wine into it, it shattered.” “It exploded, Jon. I’ve never seen anything like it.” “Was anyone hurt?” he asked. “No. Not a scratch. We were lucky. But how strange.” “Move a little closer,” he said softly. “I think I can make you feel better. Much better.” I giggled and pounced on him. “OK, wise guy. Prove it!” At noon I walked over to Front Street and arrived just as Melanie was driving up. “Aunt Ruby was so mysterious,” Melanie said. “She insisted we come here for lunch today. Two days until the wedding and with all we have to do. She said Binkie would not be here, and that we had to talk. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” “You know, Mel, just the other day you were complaining that she was unavailable.
