BENJAMIN FLETCHER sat right next to MEREDITH FOX. The wedding planner hadn’t gotten the message about Ben; Aunt Christine or Sarah had probably forgotten to pass it along to her. I started laughing—really, truly laughing. “What?” Wit asked as I giggled. “What’s so funny?” I picked up Ben’s stone and handed it to him. “Here,” I said. “Look at this.” Wit studied it before grumbling something, then turned and walked straight out of the tent. I imagined him hurling the stone into the dunes. Upon his return, he flashed me a grin. “Drink?”
