I RARELY HAD trouble falling asleep, but this was no ordinary night. Hank had made it even more, well, dramatic. In six hours we would be serving Christmas-morning breakfast to our homeless friends. And several hours after that I’d be getting married to a very special person. I thought about that person now, why I had chosen him, and how calm and secure I was in my choice. I’d come to believe that if you’re going to marry someone, it has to be your best friend, and he was my best friend, somebody I never tired of being around, someone I felt lucky to have love me back. I wished he were here with me right then.

I lay in bed with a nice big snifter of warm brandy next to me. Not surprisingly, Gus knew how to warm Courvoisier to the perfect temperature, and he had done that for me. I shuffled through my big file of wedding notes—menus and bills and checklists for flowers and orchestra and bartenders and, of course, the ever-growing guest list.

Almost everyone in the house stopped by to say good night, and everyone said that tomorrow was going to be a wonderful day. And screw Hank.

I took a sip of the brandy. Mmm-mmm. Gus might not have been too good at algebra, but he knew how to fix a glass of Courvoisier.

Then came a barely audible knock at the bedroom door.

“Come on in,” I said.

The door opened, and Claire stood there wearing a black silk bathrobe, looking as shy and quiet as she had when she was little.

“Remember this?” she asked.

“I thought I’d given that to Goodwill the day you moved to Myrtle Beach,” I said with a laugh. She turned around, revealing the big silver logo of her favorite rock group when she was in high school—INXS.

“Whatever happened to them?” I asked.

“I think they work in a Walmart in Perth,” she said.

I waved for her to come in, and the moment she closed the door it happened—a dam burst. Sobbing. Shaking. Quivering lips. I held out my arms, and Claire rushed to fill them.

“Mom, I’ve decided something,” she said.

“What did you decide?”

“I’m leaving Hank, divorcing him,” she said, and then held her head away from me, anxious, I thought, to see my reaction.

After a few seconds she spoke again. “Are you going to say you approve or disapprove?”

“You don’t need me to approve or disapprove. A marriage is the most private thing in the world. Only the people in it know if it works for them or doesn’t. All I’m going to say is that I love you like mad.”

She sniffled. She smiled. It was a slight, crooked smile, but a smile.

“Thank you. I just didn’t want the sad news to spoil your wedding.”

“Claire, you’re not spoiling anything.”

I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to add that she had just given me the best Christmas and wedding gift I could have hoped for.