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The cool afternoon was so intoxicating, I drove with the windows down and let my mind wander as I stopped to pick up some snacks for the stakeout.
My wedding was only five days away. It still hadn’t fully sunk in. Not even with all the trying on of dresses, choosing cakes and hors d’oeuvres, picking out flowers, and all the rigamarole that comes with planning a wedding.
My mother had wanted me to hire a wedding planner. It would have been easier for sure. But there was a certain satisfaction in making the arrangements myself.
Despite our mutual Catholic connections, neither Conor nor I were religious. We had settled on having the wedding at Dragon Tree Gardens, which was a mystical botanical oasis unlike anything else in Phoenix.
Our friend Samantha West, a Unitarian minister, had
