‘Crap,’ she whispered under her breath, but she wasn’t really sure who or what she was referring to. She didn’t know why she had just said no to him. It certainly didn’t feel right to accept his proposal of marriage. Jennifer had never been the sort of dreamy, romantic girl who had spent her whole life fantasising about this moment. But as she took a moment to think about why she had turned him down, she knew that she should have been feeling love and hope in her heart when she had opened that velvet box, not dread, and for that she had made exactly the right decision. Fireflies were dancing in the darkness like tiny showers of gold, miniature meteors. On any other night Jennifer would have watched them with joy and wonder, but she just wanted to get back to the house. Already the crowds had begun to thin. Ten o’clock, she discovered, glancing at her watch. The oldest guests would be dispersing first; others would mutter about babysitters and early starts. Her fun friends like Jeanne and Pete could possibly be relied upon to party into the night, so too the out-of-towners billeted in a nearby hotel, although Sylvia had told Jennifer that she expected the party to be over by midnight, and she did not doubt her mother would have Casa D’Or cleared by then.
