“How did things go with Vicky,” Jen asked as I met her back in the reception hall on the way to our table. I just gave her a sideways look, “Pretty much how you’d expect,” but I didn’t elaborate or break my word to Vicky. On the hall to the side of the room where we’d sat for dinner, there was now a late afternoon band playing sedately and some couples dancing. The choice was between sitting at a table with Jen’s parents...