Free The Wedding Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

in order to earn her Ph.D. in history at the University of Chicago, she remained one of Sarah’s dearest friends. Sarah was thrilled that Summer and Gwen would be making the trip from Palo Alto, where Summer was a professor at Stanford University and Gwen was enjoying her retirement, to attend Caroline’s wedding.
    Those who had not welcomed Caroline upon her arrival were awaiting her in the kitchen, and when she appeared there were again hugs, kisses, and good wishes all around. Everyone present had met Leo on earlier visits, and they offered him congratulations and teasing warnings that he had better treat their darling girl well, admonitions that he accepted amiably.
    Before long Anna announced that dinner was served, and soon everyone was enjoying pleasantly spicy chicken doro wat, sweet potato peanut stew, lentils in savory broth, spinach sautéed in garlic, and the sour tang of injera flatbread—Caroline’s favorite meal. She had fallen in love with Ethiopian cuisine in middle school when introduced to it by a new friend, Ayana, who had moved to the Elm Creek Valley in the seventh grade when her father accepted a short-term position as a visiting professor at Waterford College. Two years later, when the assignment concluded and Ayana’s family moved away, the usually ebullient Caroline was inconsolable. It had been Gina’s idea to remind her of happier times by re-creating the meals she had occasionally shared at her friend’s house, so Anna learned a few East African recipes and encouraged Caroline to help her prepare them. At first Caroline balked, reluctant to be reminded of the friend who had, in her young eyes, abandoned her, but Anna’s cheerful persistence eventually won her over. Caroline and Ayana had stayed in touch, and had even managed a few visits through the years when their academic and work schedules allowed. To Caroline’s delight, Ayana, now living and working in Manhattan, had eagerly agreed to be a bridesmaid.
    Thankful for the power of a wedding to bring together friends and family from near and far, Sarah enjoyed the meal and the conversation, hardly able to take her eyes from her radiant daughter, so full of hope and happiness and love. At the table beside her, Leo seemed content, affectionate, and happy, not at all overwhelmed by the number of people gathered for what was, for them, an ordinarily family dinner at home, nor did he seem fazed by their abundance of enthusiasm.
    As Gina and James began to clear away the dishes and Jeremy jumped up to put on a pot of coffee, Russell raised his voice to be heard over the din. “How did you two meet?” he called to the bride and groom from the corner booth where he sat with Maggie.
    â€œIn college at an aughts party,” Caroline replied from the center table, evoking knowing laughter from Leo, James, Gina, and Emily.
    Sarah, Matt, Carol, Jeremy, and Anna had heard the story before, so they understood the reference, but most of the others regarded the young people with bewilderment. “A whats party?” asked Russell.
    â€œAn aughts party,” Caroline repeated, smiling. “You know, aught-aught, aught-one, aught-two—”
    â€œOr,” Sarah broke in, “as we referred to it back in the day, the year two thousand, two thousand one, oh-two, oh-three . . .” She gestured, waving her hand to indicate the rest of the years of the decade rolling on and on.
    â€œWhat does one do at an aughts party,” asked Maggie, “aside from meeting one’s future spouse?”
    â€œWell, the girls straighten their hair,” Caroline began, “and some of the more daring guys shave their heads.”
    â€œFor a party?” asked Matt, incredulous.
    James shrugged. “Some people take their partying very seriously.”
    â€œWe scour thrift shops for aughts fashions, like skinny jeans and Crocs or Ugg boots,” said Gina. “Some people dress Gothic, like