Before I can respond, she quickens her pace and catches up with Margaret and Thomas. Margaret, ever perceptive, starts talking right away to cover over the awkward vibes, pointing out at a patch of emerald green in the distance. I follow behind and listen, brooding.
“… You know that Tom and I were married on that very field? The one just over the hill. Can you see that ash tree over there? We had our first kiss as man and wife right underneath it.”
“Oh, wow,” Jessa gasps. “That is amazing. Like, storybook perfect. How long ago was that?”
“Going on forty-five years now,” she says. “I was nineteen.”
“Nineteen,” Jessa whispers. “That’s really young.”
“When you know, you know,” she says with a little shrug. “The first moment I laid eyes on Thomas, I knew I would marry him.”
“Was it the s
