I parked in the shade and got to work right away. Using the ladder, I finished removing the boards from the windows, so that the pressure washers could have complete access.

Again, I stored the boards under the house. I was closing the cellar door when a cleaning crew of five arrived and began to lay siege to the house. Since the painters were already working downstairs, they hauled in buckets, mops, cloths, and detergents and scoured the kitchen, the staircase, the bathrooms, the windows, and the rooms upstairs, moving quickly and efficiently. New sheets and blankets that I’d brought from home were placed on the beds; meanwhile Nathan brought in fresh flowers for every room in the house.

Within the hour, the rental truck arrived and workers began unloading white foldout chairs, setting them in rows. Holes were dug near the trellis, and pots with preplanted wisteria were sunk; the purple blooms were wound through the trellis and tied in place. Beyond the trellis, the former wildness of the rose garden gave way to vivid color.

Despite the clear skies predicted by the weather service, I’d made arrangements for a tent to provide shade for the guests. The white tent was erected over the course of the morning; once it was up, more potted wisteria was sunk into the ground, then wrapped around the poles, intermingled with strands of white lights.

The power washer cleaned the fountain in the center of the rose garden; a little after lunch, I turned it on and listened to water cascading through the three tiers like a gentle waterfall.

The piano tuner arrived and spent three hours tuning the long unused piano. When he was done, a set of special microphones was installed to route music first to the ceremony, then to the reception. Other speakers and microphones enabled the pastor to be heard during the service and ensured that music could be heard in every corner of the house.

Tables were set throughout the main room—with the exception of the dance area in front of the fireplace—and linen tablecloths were spread on each. Fresh candles and flowering centerpieces appeared as if conjured so that when the crew from the restaurant arrived, they had only to fold linen napkins into the shape of swans to put the finishing touches on the place settings.

I also reminded everyone about the single table I wanted set up on the porch, and within moments it was done.

The final touch was potted hibiscus trees decorated with white lights and placed in each corner of the room.

By midafternoon, the work was winding down. Everyone loaded their cars and trucks, and the crew in the yard was in the final stages of cleanup. For the first time since the project began, I was alone in the house. I felt good. The work over the past two days, though frenzied, had gone smoothly, and while the furniture was gone, the house’s regal appearance reminded me of the years it had been occupied.

As I watched the trucks pull out of the driveway, I knew I should be heading out as well. After having had their dresses fitted and shopping for shoes in the morning, Jane and Anna had made afternoon appointments to get their nails done.

I wondered whether Jane was thinking about the date I had planned. Given all the excitement, I thought it unlikely—and knowing me as she did, I doubted she was expecting much in the way of a surprise, despite what I had intimated last night. I’d been wonderfully adept at setting the bar rather low over the years, but I couldn’t help but hope that it would make what I had planned even more special.

As I gazed at the house, I realized that the months I’d spent preparing for our anniversary would reach fruition. Keeping the secret from Jane had been anything but easy, but now that the evening was at hand, I realized that most of what I’d wanted for Jane and me had already happened. I’d originally thought my gift a token of a new beginning; now it seemed like the end of a journey I’d been on for over a year.

The property had finally emptied, and I made one final tour through the house before getting in my car. On my way home, I swung by the grocery store, then made a few other stops, gathering everything else that I needed. By the time I got home, it was nearly five o’clock. I took a few minutes to straighten up, then hopped in the shower to wash off the day’s accumulated grime.

Knowing I had little time, I moved quickly over the next hour. Following the list I’d crafted at the office, I began preparations for the evening I had planned, the evening I’d thought about for months. One by one, items fell into place. I’d asked Anna to call me as soon as Jane had dropped her off, to give me a sense of when Jane would arrive. She did, alerting me to the fact that Jane was only fifteen minutes away. After making sure the house looked perfect, I completed my last task, taping a note to the locked front door, impossible for Jane to miss:

“Welcome home, darling. Your surprise awaits you inside. . . .”

Then I got into my car and drove away.

Chapter Fifteen

Almost three hours later, I gazed out the front windows of Noah’s house and saw headlights approaching. Checking my watch, I saw that she was right on time.

As I straightened my jacket, I tried to imagine Jane’s state of mind. Though I hadn’t been with her when she’d arrived at our home, I tried to picture her. Was she surprised that my car wasn’t in the drive? I wondered. Surely she would have noticed that I’d drawn the drapes before leaving—perhaps she had paused in the car, puzzled or even intrigued.

I guessed her hands were full when she exited the car, if not with the dress for the wedding, then no doubt with the new shoes she’d purchased that day. Either way, there would be no mistaking the note as she approached the steps, and I could just see the look of curiosity crossing her features.

When she read it on the steps, how had she reacted to my words? This, I didn’t know. A baffled smile, perhaps? Her uncertainty was no doubt heightened by the fact that I wasn’t home.

What, then, would she have thought when she unlocked the door to reveal a darkened living room lit only by the pale yellow glow of candles and the plaintive sound of Billie Holiday on the stereo? How long had it taken her to notice the scattered rose petals on the floor that trailed from the foyer through the living room and up the staircase? Or the second note I’d taped to the balustrade:

Sweetheart, this evening is for you. Yet there is a role you must play to fulfill it. Think of this as a game: I’m going to give you a list of instructions, and your role is to do as I ask.

The first task is simple: Please blow out the candles downstairs, and follow the rose petals to the bedroom. Further instructions will await you there.