Free Catching Air by Sarah Pekkanen

began to climb the long driveway, and Alyssa poked her head inside the front door, calling, “They’re here!”
    The bedrooms looked warm and welcoming. Pitchers of water with floating lemon slices were on the bureaus, and bouquets of violets brightened the bathrooms. In the living room, Kira was setting out a tray of goat-cheese-and-walnut-stuffed figs and a crusty loaf of French bread with a warm artichoke dip. There was also a pitcher of pomegranate martinis—a complimentary spread for their first guests.
    Alyssa opened the door to the two young couples, and Peter and Rand hurried out to help them with their bags.
    “Oooh! Are those snacks for us?” squealed one of the women. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, like the other three, and was petite and blond enough to be Kira’s little sister. “We munched all afternoon when we were wine tasting at the vineyards, so we never ate a proper dinner and suddenly I’m hungry again!”
    “Of course,” Kira said. “Help yourselves. And we’ve got plenty of pomegranate martinis.”
    Alyssa grabbed two of the suitcases and carried them upstairs. She took a moment to turn back the covers on the beds and to switch on the nightstand lamps. When she came back down, she ducked into her room to find her camera before heading into the living room, where the couples were settled on the sectional couch and Rand had pulled up a chair to join them.
    Rand looked like he’d been an innkeeper for decades. He had one foot up on the coffee table and was enthralling their guests with the story of the time he’d bumped into a member of Coldplay in a men’s room at a little dive bar in New York.
    “Kind of weird that he was singing one of his competitor’s hits in the stall— Oh, hey, babe,” Rand said, patting the chair next to him. “Come say hi.”
    Alyssa extended her hand to the blond woman, who was the closest to her. “I’m Jessica,” said the woman. She had a slightly squeaky voice, skin so pale it appeared almost translucent, and a pink tinge to the tip of her pert little nose. If she were an animal, she’d be a hamster.
    “This is Scott, my fiancé.” Jessica put a little emphasis on her last word as she nudged the knee of the beefy, ruddy-cheeked guy sitting next to her.
    “Jessica and Scott just got engaged last weekend,” said Rand. Jessica held out her hand so Alyssa could see her ring, which looked huge against her tiny finger.
    “Congratulations!” Alyssa said as she sat down next to Rand.
    “And meet Maria and David,” continued Rand, master of ceremonies, as he gestured to the other couple. “They’ve all been best friends since college.”
    “This is our celebratory trip,” Jessica explained. “Maria and David are going to be our maid of honor and best man.”
    “Wow,” Alyssa exclaimed, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She’d never understood the fuss some people made over weddings, or why they focused more on the celebration than the meaning behind it. She and Rand had gotten married in a friend’s living room, with her mother, who’d been ordained for the occasion, serving as minister. Everyone had eaten pasta off paper plates and sipped glasses of wine. Alyssa had woven white flowers into her hair, and Rand had been barefoot and in jeans. It had been absolutely perfect.
    “Mmm . . . try one of these,” Jessica said as she grabbed a fig and popped it into Scott’s mouth. Alyssa raised her camera and captured the moment.
    “Did you just take a picture of us?” Jessica asked.
    Alyssa called up the digital photo on the screen and handed the camera to Jessica. “Take a look,” she said.
    “I love this!” Jessica squealed. “This may be the best photo we’ve ever had taken. See, Scott . . . the candles behind us and the expression on our faces . . .”
    “I’ll print it out and give it to you before you leave,” Alyssa said. “As an engagement gift.”
    “Alyssa’s a professional