Calendar Girl

“We haven’t had time to think about that.”

“Well,” said the uncle, who had been eying the exit. “You’re both young. Take your time.”

“I’m not worried. I have it all planned,” Josh broke in solemnly, hooking his thumb back over his shoulder.

Melinda followed his aim as he said his goodbyes.

The head table lay in that direction, cleared of the dirty dinner dishes.

The only things left were two champagne flutes, an open bottle of Dom.

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