The “Accidental Tourist” author embraces us from the very first sentence — “People don’t tap their watches anymore; have you noticed?” — by addressing the reader directly, inviting us into Gail Baines’ world (set in Baltimore, of course, Tyler’s favorite backdrop).

Sixty-ish Gail is quick to clarify that she means “standard wristwatches.” That’s so we won’t envision a smartwatch, with its digital display and other gewgaws, as we read while she recalls her father and the Timex “with a face as big as a fifty-cent piece” that he would tap when her mother was running late.

Tyler has conjured a bygone era — people don’t wear wristwatches like they once did (although it appears the practice is making a comeback) — but the image of a man waiting for his wife, each perceiving time differently, is ageless: He seeks control over the ticking of his watch, while her approach is more leisurely. Despite their differences, they have some things in common: a relationship and a child.

All of this is conveyed in a total of eight sentences arranged into two opening paragraphs. They simply, beautifully and evocatively set the stage for the rest of “Three Days in June” (a title about as literal as it gets, in terms of the passing of time), as Gail and her ex-husband Max ready for the wedding of their daughter, and only child, Debbie.

The book is structured around the event, with three sections that correspond to the day before the wedding, “Day of Beauty”; the day of, “D-Day”; and, finally, “The Day After.” What follows is littered with the kind of crises you might expect: questions of etiquette, what the bride’s dad will wear, who will make toasts and so on.

When an indiscretion comes to light that threatens the wedding, Gail finds herself forced to re-evaluate her life — even though “I’ve never been the type to play back scenes from my past.” — compounding a career curveball thrown her way the day before the wedding.

A high-octane thriller this is not, but “Three Days” is as compelling as one. Tyler’s pacing is incomparable. She knows just when to make revelations for maximum devastation. Quietly, though. She’s never flashy. Would you expect otherwise from a writer who still routinely refers to the bathroom as “the powder room”?

Three Days in June (Knopf)

Fans of Tyler’s will certainly recognize the care she takes in handling her characters. Nobody’s perfect in “Three Days,” but nothing is so bad that it can’t be fixed, almost always by the application of gentle humor: “Oh, yes, another of Max’s flaws was that he was fond of recounting his dreams, and they were always interminable.” (Well, maybe it’s not always so gentle …)

Even if you’re new to Tyler’s work, you are likely to find it deeply familiar. Her deceptively simple style captures the cadence of the everyday, and you’ll want to stay in the warmth of her storytelling. Let it hug you, too, and don’t be afraid to give it a snuggle back.

Three Days in June

By: Anne Tyler.

Publisher: Knopf, 165 pages, $27.