A Few Pecans Short of a Pie

by Molly Harper

  “No, I’m fine, just fine,” Lucy assured her, wiping lightly at her eyes. “And I hope you’re ready to eat sweets for breakfast.”

  “I can’t tell you how much we’re looking forward to this,” Margot said, keeping her expression neutral as she walked toward the table. Something was very wrong with Lucy, and if she knew her dopey cousin, it probably had something to do with his awful ex-wife. Duffy wasn’t dumb enough to piss off a girl as sweet as Lucy, but he also wasn’t smart enough to tell Lana to back off and leave Lucy alone.

  Margot sighed. She was going to have some very stern words with Duffy McCready. She might even sic Donna on him.

  Wait, no. No one deserved that.

  For the next hour, Margot fully indulged her sweet tooth, enjoying all of Lucy’s carefully prepared creations—simple white cake, lemon cake with Swiss meringue, devil’s food cake with double chocolate frosting that she wanted to make her second husband. But even with so many delicious choices, Margot was no closer to making a decision for her wedding cake.

  At this point, she wasn’t sure she would be ready for a Christmas wedding. An odd weight settled over her chest, and suddenly, even with cake involved, she wanted to end this appointment as quickly as possible. She was so tired of anything and everything to do with this wedding. And she hated feeling that way. She hated the pressure. She hated feeling like she was carrying the whole community’s emotional weight on her shoulders—because that was probably overdramatic and extremely self-centered. But still, she just wanted to walk out to her car and go home.

  And apparently, she was not as good at masking her emotions as she thought, because Lucy noticed her sudden shift from happy pregnant snacker to glum bride-to-be. Lucy plied her with more cake and questions, which ended in Margot confessing, “It’s not that I don’t want to be married. I love Kyle. I want to be with him, and only him, forever and ever. I don’t see my life working with anyone else, or without the girls, even if things have moved a lot faster than I thought they would. It’s taken a lot of work for me to recognize that it was my mother’s marriages I was afraid of, not the institution itself. It’s the idea of the wedding and all those people and . . . I know what some of them still think of me, even though they smile and call me ‘Stan’s girl.’ ”

  “You don’t have to do a big white wedding.”

  “I know.” Margot sighed. “But if I don’t, that would hurt Stan’s feelings, Tootie’s feelings, Aunt Leslie’s feelings—everybody’s feelings, basically.”

  “And your feelings in all this are . . . where?”

  Margot’s eyes narrowed. “Please don’t be wise and insightful with me right now.”

  “Seriously, this is the limit of my folksy wisdom. If you weren’t knocked up, I would be plying you with booze,” she said, hugging Margot. “Talk to Kyle and see how he feels about paring things down a bit. I’ll still make the cake, no matter how small. Hell, I’ll make you a wedding cupcake if you want.”

  “I hate wedding cupcakes, they’re a cop-out,” Margot mumbled into her shoulder.

  “See, that’s one decision made, right there, though thousands of brides disagree with you,” Lucy said, laughing and pulling away from her. “And you didn’t like the white cake, so that’s another. You favored the lemon and the chocolate. And if you decide you like any of the other flavors, we can do a bit of everything. Lots of people do multiple flavors in tiers or cupcakes. It’s more interesting and you cater to your guests’ tastes. The mark of a considerate bride.”

  “You’re right.” Margot sniffed. “I’m overreacting. It’s just these stupid hormones and feelings, and I’m not used to having either. I don’t get paralyzed over decisions. I don’t cry over things like this. I make people cry.”

  “You sound oddly proud of that.”

  “I am, a little,” Margot confessed.

  “It happens to everybody,” Lucy said. “When I was eight months pregnant with Sam, my dad gave me this awful Raggedy Andy doll that my mama had kept in storage for me, from when I was little. I mean, this doll was the stuff of nightmares. And I cried happy tears so hard I scared my dad.”

  “That sounds oddly familiar,” Margot said.

  “You want some more cake?” Lucy asked.

  Margot nodded. “Desperately.”

  Lucy spun the tiered tray again and offered her another cupcake. “Now, I like to call this my Almond Joy cupcake.”

  Margot gagged slightly as the scent of the cake wafted over her. She clapped her hand to her mouth as the hot rush of acid spread up her throat.

  “Is that coconut?” Margot asked, feeling the blood drain from her face.

  “Yeah, chocolate cake with a coconut cream frosting.” Lucy said.

  A sickly sweet liquid filled Margot’s mouth—a sensation she recognized all too well. “Lucy, I’m really sorry about this.” Margot leaned over the wastebasket and let loose a horrifying torrent of vomit.

  “Oh, hell, is that one of your morning sickness triggers?” Lucy gasped and lobbed the offending cupcake over the counter, into the kitchen.

  Margot groaned as Lucy pressed a water bottle into her hand. “Coconut, and raw meat, and fucking peanuts, of all things.”

  “Yeah, motherhood is a disgusting miracle.” Lucy patted Margot’s back as she leaned back over the trash can to throw up one last time. “You know, there was a lot more vomit involved in this bridal appointment than I expected.”

  “Me, too,” Margot grumbled.

  MARGOT HEADED OUT FROM THE bakery with a pecan pie Lucy had given her as a sorry my baked goods made you throw up present. Instead of continuing to work, she went to see Kyle at the elementary school. On the drive over, she considered the Sweethearts’ Dance, and Eunice Walker, and how that girl, who was so much younger than Margot, had braved disapproval and the real possibility of bloodshed to marry the man she loved. Here Margot was sniveling about not getting to find a dress or food without hurting someone’s feelings, and Eunice had to face ladders and rivers and shotguns.

  And Margot walked into the Lake Sackett Elementary School building with new resolve.

  For a building that contained hundreds of small children, it was remarkably quiet as Margot walked through the door. She noticed that the bright yellow PET SHOW-AND-TELL DAY banner was torn down the middle and hanging from the ceiling in strips.

  That couldn’t be good.

  Clarice Yancy, a plump woman with iron-gray hair, was sitting behind her desk in the office with an ice pack over her left eye. The other eye flicked down to Margot’s belly as she entered the office, and somehow Clarice managed to look even more disgruntled at the sight of her.

  “Miss Clarice.”

  “Miss Margot,” Clarice drawled.

  Margot nodded toward the ice pack. “Pet Show-and-Tell Day?”

  Clarice frowned and sighed. “Pet Show-and-Tell Day.”

  “Is Mr. Archer available or is he still dealing with the aftereffects?”

  Kyle poked his head out of his office, sporting three long scratches down his cheek.

  “Oh my God, what happened?” Margot exclaimed.

  “There was an incident involving Ben Hodgkin’s cat.” Kyle sighed, ushering her into his office and closing the door. “And Lee Jackson’s turtle . . . and Amelia Sturbey’s chinchilla.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, kissing his uninjured cheek.

  “The good news is, I think I’ve gathered sufficient evidence to convince the PTA never to host Pet Show-and-Tell Day again. But this little surprise visit brings some sunshine to my day,” he said, pausing to look at her face. “Except that you’ve got that little line between your eyebrows that means you’re upset, so this is probably not going to be a happy surprise visit.”

  Margot meant to open her mouth and assure Kyle that she was fine, she was just having a bad day and wanted to see his face. Because honestly, no man should have to deal with a pregnant, not-quite-hysterical-but-getting-there fiancée on the same day he’d been attacked by an ill-te
mpered chinchilla. But what came out was “I can’t do this.”

  Kyle’s face went pale. “What, get married? Honey, I thought we were past this. Is this about what Hazel said? Because you seemed okay the other day.”

  “No, no, it’s the wedding!” she exclaimed. “It’s just the wedding! It’s so much pressure. And I don’t want to disappoint anybody, but it seems impossible when there are so many random emotional attachments to things you don’t even expect and cannot predict. And when you’ve worked in the events industry as long as I have, it’s hard to get excited about stuffed mushroom caps and coordinating table linens in different shades of peony. I have seen how the sausage is made. And that kind of ruins sausage for me.”

  Kyle frowned. “Ew.”

  “I want to get married, but I don’t think I can do the wedding. I want to get married far away from here, where it’s just you, me, and the kids. And my dad. And your parents if you think they’d be willing to make the trip. No bridesmaids’ dresses or monogrammed napkins or canapés or cake or other people and their expectations. Just us.”

  “That sounds pretty amazing,” Kyle conceded, sliding into the chair across from her and taking her hand. “But we can’t do that, can we? I mean, won’t it hurt a lot of feelings?”

  “Probably, but you’re the one who said the wedding should be about what we want, and you’re right. We should be relaxed and happy on our wedding day. And if we need to smooth over ruffled feathers, we’ll worry about it later. We can do a reception out at the compound in the fall, when all the mosquitoes die off.”

  Kyle pulled Margot into his lap, risking the disapproval of Miss Clarice, who could see them through his office window. “What brought all this on?”

  “Coconut and Eunice Walker—but mostly coconut.” Margot sighed. “At the cake tasting. I mean, I knew I wasn’t going to get the dress I wanted. And I knew I was going to compromise with my family about the service and the food and everything else. But I really thought that the cake part was going to be fun. And easy. Throwing up in the middle of Lucy’s bakery was not easy or fun. I mean, it’s cake. It should be some sort of law of the universe that pregnancy can’t ruin cake for you. Some things are just sacred.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey,” he said, pulling her close as the afternoon bell rang, releasing the kids from school. “We could always elope. You should be okay to travel for another month or two, right?”

  “I have a white sundress I could wear. The girls have dresses. In theory, that’s all the prep we need, besides the rings.”

  “I wouldn’t have to wear a tux,” Kyle said. “I really wasn’t excited about the tux.”

  “We could go right after the kids get out of school,” Margot said, feeling a spark of warmth rising in her chest. Could this be . . . excitement about planning the wedding? When she pictured walking down a beach, on her dad’s arm, toward Kyle and the girls, just that small little group . . . she could see it in full color. Unlike when she imagined a big white wedding with all the trappings, Margot could actually feel goose bumps rising on her arms. That was the wedding she wanted—small, simple, no-frills, nobody trying to shape the ceremony with their ideas.

  Kyle rubbed his hand over her belly and the baby chose that moment to kick, hard. Kyle grinned. “I think the baby agrees with the plan.”

  “The baby wants to be a world traveler before he or she is born.” Margot snickered. She turned at the sound of the office door opening. The girls bounded through, all breathless energy and flyaway hair.

  “Hey, Margot,” Hazel said, throwing herself into her dad’s office chair. “Dad, I still don’t think it’s fair we couldn’t bring Arlo or Charlie to Pet Show-and-Tell Day. Everybody else got to bring their pets.”

  “I know, sweetie, I was just so worried about keeping up with our dogs and all of the other kids and their pets. And I didn’t want our dogs to get upset or hurt, so it seemed safer to leave them at home.”

  “Okay, I guess that makes sense,” Hazel grumbled.

  “So, girls, we were talking about the wedding,” Kyle said. “And were thinking instead of planning a big wedding here at home, of maybe going on vacation and having a little wedding somewhere else, and then having a big party later. Maybe even after the baby is born.”

  “You’re going to elope?” June asked.

  “How do you know that word?” Margot asked.

  June leveled a very serious look at Margot. “We have cable, Mom.”

  Margot nodded and made a mental note to adjust the parental settings on the remote. “What do you think of us eloping?”

  “Does eloping mean we wouldn’t get to see the wedding?” Hazel asked.

  “No, we’re taking you with us. You will be there no matter what,” Margot said.

  “Can we go to Disney World?” June asked. “You could get married in front of Cinderella’s castle.”

  “You came up with that plan awful fast.” Kyle arched a brow and looked to Margot, who shook her head. “We were thinking maybe the beach?”

  “That would be nice,” Hazel said. “But Disney World also has beach resorts.”

  “You guys are really pushing this Disney thing, huh?”

  June raised her hands. “Oh, no, it’s your wedding. Do what you want.”

  “So you’re okay with this?” Kyle asked Hazel, patting her back.

  Hazel nodded. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Margot reached out and squeezed her hand.

  “Can I wear a swimsuit under my dress if the wedding’s on the beach?”

  “Sure,” Margot said.

  “Can I wear a mermaid tail?” June asked.

  Margot burst out laughing. “Probably not. You would have a really hard time getting down the aisle, sprinkling flowers.”

  “Good point,” June said, nodding. “Who else is going to be there?”

  “I’m going to invite my dad,” Margot said. “To make sure he can walk me down the aisle.”

  “Will Meemee and Pawpaw come?” June asked.

  Kyle and Margot exchanged glances, and Kyle said, “Um, we’ll have to talk about that.”

  “I know that Meemee and Pawpaw have never been to Disney World,” Hazel said, shrugging innocently.

  Margot cackled. “Not going to let the Disney thing go, huh?”

  8

  IT TOOK A few days for the elopement plan to come together. Margot struggled for a way to tell her family that she would be getting married in a little over six weeks, after the girls got out of school, on a faraway beach. And that their invitation would involve a high-speed Internet connection and a webcam. Margot had considered just leaving I’ma marry my man and no one’s gonna stop me scrawled on a scrap of butcher paper on her bed and disappearing.

  But that was the cowardly route. Effective, but cowardly.

  So it may have been a subconsciously intentional gesture that she left the pamphlet entitled “So You Want to Elope” on her desk where anyone in her family could see it. And that anyone just happened to be her father.

  “Hey, I have sweet tea for my Sweet Tea,” Stan called as he walked through her door, in the most cheerful tone she could remember him using since . . . ever.

  “Thanks, Dad, I’d just about finished with this morning’s jug,” she said, laughing as he set the giant tumbler on her desk with a flourish.

  His eyes seemed to snag on the pamphlet, which featured a picture of the back of a classic convertible with JUST ELOPED printed in white shoe polish on the shiny red paint. The smile slid right off Stan’s face, and for a moment, he looked like the hangdog grump she’d met when she’d first moved to town.

  “Oh, I didn’t know that was something you were thinking about,” he said, carefully.

  “Oh, no! Dad!” Margot blurted out, before she pursed her lips and stood up to close the air vents that piped sound directly into the chapel overhead. “Dad, could you close the door, please? I don’t want everybody to overhear.”

  Stan walked to the door like a man shufflin
g toward the noose. He clearly had expectations for this conversation, and they weren’t good. “Look, honey, I know I haven’t been back in your life for very long. And it’s gotta be weird, having all this pressure on you to involve me in the wedding. Lots of girls walk themselves down the aisle nowadays, female empowerment, not being chattel and all that. It won’t hurt my feelings if that’s what you want to do, but please don’t feel like you have to move the whole wedding just to avoid hurting my feelings.”

  Chuckling, Margot threw her arms around her father and felt his frame melt into her embrace. He slid his arms around her and squeezed her as tight as her belly would allow. “No, Daddy. No, I never wanted to have my wedding away from you, that was never the point of this eloping idea. Having you walk me down the aisle, and me being truly happy that you’re there, that was one of the only things I was sure of during this whole debacle. Kyle and I have decided to elope because this wedding-planning thing has just sucked all of the fun out of getting married for us. We want to be married, that’s it. And when we elope, you’re coming with us. We have to have someone as a witness, right? And someone to give me away? And we want that someone to be you.”

  Stan’s eyes filmed over with tears and he hugged her again, sniffling into her hair.

  “I’m sorry, I know there’s going to be hurt feelings over the big white wedding being canceled,” Margot said, though her voice quavered a bit. “But Kyle and I agree this is for the best. This is how we want to handle it.”

  “No, no, Sweet Tea, to hell with everybody else’s feelings.”

  “Then why did you get all teary-eyed?” she asked, her voice cracking in an embarrassing fashion.

  “You called me Daddy.” He tucked her head under his chin and rubbed her back. “You haven’t done that since you were a little girl.”