By the time Alyssa turned twenty six she was wearing silk dresses and talking about a vineyard wedding in Sonoma County as if that was a perfectly normal plan for a girl who grew up counting quarters for laundry. She told me her fiancé was named Bradley Montgomery and that his parents owned a famous wine estate called Montgomery Ridge Vineyard. She said important investors and politicians would attend the wedding and several lifestyle magazines wanted photos.
She kept saying the word big while her eyes sparkled the same way they used to when she stared at Christmas decorations in a store window when we were kids. She wanted something glittering. She wanted proof our story did not end in that cramped apartment with peeling linoleum.
I wanted that for her too.
That was why I flew in from Seattle even though my schedule was packed. My company Atlas Freight Systems did not stop operating just because I stepped onto a plane. I spent the flight approving contracts and answering urgent calls. My private jet had a mechanical delay so I arrived at the Montgomery estate in a beige rental sedan instead of the car service my assistant arranged.