“Where are you taking me?” I asked her.
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later, Peggy and I arrived in Breckenridge, where she’d previously scheduled appointments at a day spa. We spent the next several hours being pampered beyond my wildest imaginings.
The spa itself was really quite something. Hardwood floors polished to a shine, muted colored walls, lots of plants, therapeutic music, and scented candles filled the rooms. We were ushered from the entrance down a wide hallway and then to the back, where large tubs filled with hot water and sea minerals awaited us. After a half-hour soak, we were massaged with fragrant scrubs, followed by oils. Then we had facials and hot stone therapy until I do believe my brain became bubble gum. Following all that, we had pedicures, then manicures (both with paraffin treatments). As though that were not enough, Peggy had made an appointment for me with a man named Jacques, who ran his fingers through my hair, pulling at it from root to tip, and then studied my face and declared, “You really deserve something more modish, like your sister. Look at those cheeks! That bone structure! I’m going to give you the look of Dame Judi Dench!”
Hours later—having been shampooed and my hair razor cut and highlighted—I hardly recognized the woman in the mirror. Peggy stood behind me, expressing over and over, “It’s you, it’s you, it’s so absolutely you!”
“This is the easiest style in the world,” Jacques said.
I sincerely hoped so.
A makeup expert came in and tried to sell me on all sorts of cosmetics, but I knew that Lisa Leann would have my hide if I dared buy any other products than the ones I’d already purchased from her.
When all was said and done, it was after eight o’clock in the evening and I was famished. Absolutely stunning to behold, but famished.
“Not to worry,” Peggy said. “Matthew is meeting us shortly at Wasabi’s. We have reservations.”
I’m sure I looked stunned. “How is he getting here,” I asked, “seeing as we have your car?”
She grinned at me. “Vernon is bringing him.”
I had been missing Vernon very much. Still... “Oh, Peggy,” I said, running my fingers along the base of my very short hairline. “I don’t know if I want him to see me just yet.”
She draped her arm around my shoulder and led me toward the exit door. “You look marvelous, you smell divine, and you know you want to see him.”
I smiled at her. “I have so missed having you here. I don’t think I realized how much until today.”
She squeezed me. “I’ve missed you too.”
The following morning I was more than certain I wanted to call the whole thing off. Twice I picked up the phone to call Lisa Leann— to tell her to stop baking the cake and to put the floral arrangements on ice (or whatever they do). Twice, Peggy took the phone out of my hand and said, “You just calm down, Evangeline.”
Matthew sat in my father’s old chair in the living room and read a book he couldn’t seem to get his nose out of. Occasionally he would look up at us and chuckle.
“You’re a fine specimen of brotherly help,” I said to him once, but he replied only with a wink.
Thursday afternoon Vernon called and asked if he could take the four of us to dinner. “After all, Matthew paid for that rather extravagant meal last night.”
He was right about that. It was expensive. It was also delicious, and I ate entirely too much. “No,” I said. “For one thing, I think we should stay apart for the next few days. It will make the wedding day all the more special.”
“Not to mention the wedding night,” he teased.
I broke out in a sweat, handed the phone over to Peggy, who was standing nearby, and then collapsed onto the sofa.
“Vernon?” I heard Peggy say through a tunnel. “Vernon, no... no, no. She’s fine.” Then she giggled, and I decided that I would kill her just as soon as she got off the phone. “She’s just a bit nervous.”
“I’ll give you nervous,” I said weakly from beside her. Minutes later I was moaning, “Oh, Peggy. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I just can’t do this.”
Peggy sat down on the sofa beside me. “Yes, you can, Evie.” Then she propped her elbows up on her knees. “Evangeline, let me ask you a question.”
“What?”
“Is it marriage that makes you nervous or the wedding? Let me rephrase that. Is it marriage that makes you nervous or the wedding night?”
I turned three shades of pink. “Well, it’s not something I’ve ever experienced before.”
Peggy laughed lightly. “I suppose I should now give you the same speech our mother gave me not five minutes before I walked down the aisle.”
I cut my eyes over at her as the memory of our mother on Peggy’s wedding day washed over me. She’d been so pretty, dressed smartly in a bright yellow satin dress with white lace overlay. She’d worn white gloves and a hat made of yellow and white daisies that encircled her head like a crown, white high-heeled pumps, and a yellow and white large bead necklace and earring set. She’d been nearly as lovely as the bride. I took a deep breath and sighed. “What’d she say to you?” I asked in a whisper.
Peggy leaned back and wrapped her arms around her middle as she gave me Mama’s “wedding night” speech. By the time she was done, we were both wiping tears of laughter from our eyes. “Mama sure was something,” Peggy ended. “She just had a way with words.”
“She obviously loved our father very much.”
Peggy nodded. “I have the notion there were things going on you and I wouldn’t have ever imagined.” Again we laughed. Peggy wrapped my chin in the cup of her hand and squeezed. “Don’t worry about the wedding night, Evangeline. I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
I nodded.
“Are you going to be alright, then?”
I nodded again.
Peggy squeezed one more time. “Good. Now, you take a nap,” she said as she got up. “I’m going to make a cabbage and apple salad to go with our dinner tonight.”
I watched as she walked over to the quilt stand, pulled a throw from one of its rungs, and then walked back to where I lay. Draping it over me, she added, “How’s that sound?”
“Divine,” I said, closing my eyes.
47
Her Good Side
It seemed to Clay that life had taken on a whole new feel in Summit View.
He was certain it had more to do with Sheriff Vesey and Evangeline Benson’s upcoming nuptials than anything else, but there was no doubt that a lot of love was in the air. Of course, news had spread about the marriage proposal of Adam to Michelle, followed by the—he was sure—shocking report of his own engagement.
He spent a lot of time hearing “congratulations” and “well done.” He relished them all. Yes, he would say to them, he was getting a great girl. No, he’d answer, they hadn’t set a date yet.
It had been hard facing Donna, though. She’d come into the newspaper office to drop off some reports just as he was descending the steps leading to the upstairs offices.
“What’s this I hear?” she’d asked him, adjusting her gun belt around her tiny waist. “You? Engaged?”
He felt himself go red in the face, then he changed the subject ever so slightly. “What about you? I hear someone had a rock the size of LA presented to her.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, well... who knows? You don’t see a ring on my finger, do you?”
He looked down at her gloved hands. “Not when they’re wrapped in thick leather, no.”
She followed his eyes and smiled. “Oh, yeah. Well, you won’t see a ring. Not right now. I uh... I have some thinking to do, and then I’ll... uh...” She turned her head and looked away momentarily. “You’re going to the wedding, right?” she asked.
“I’m the photographer,” he said, jutting his chest out in mock pride.
Donna reached out and patted him on the arm. “Well, don’t take any photos of my bad side,” she said, then turned and walked away with a “See ya.”
Clay stood still for a moment and watched her leave. When she was clear out of earshot he said, “My friend, you don’t have a bad side.”
Lisa Leann
48
French-Fried Plans
I had four hams in my oven that needed to be basted, a kitchen full of helpful friends, and a phone that would not stop ringing.
“Lisa Leann’s High Country Weddings,” I said for the thousandth time.
It was the florist again. It seemed a delivery van full of flowers was already down at the church, and there was no one there to accept or set up the order. I rolled my eyes as I dealt with yet another crisis. “Yes, my husband Henry is on the way there now to deliver the wedding cake. He’s got a diagram of where to put the flowers so he’ll be able to help you... Yes... Thank you.”
I laid my portable phone on the counter, then opened the oven and pulled the top wire rack toward me with a thick pink potholder. I grabbed one of my spoons and scooped the brown sugar, juice, and mustard sauce over the top. The warm aroma was heavenly. Lizzie, who would soon also be in need of my wedding services, stepped beside me, wearing one of my aprons over yet another one of her cute velveteen pantsuits in a bright navy blue. “Here, let me do that,” she said. I smiled and started to thank her, but the phone rang again and Lizzie knowingly smiled at me.
It was Henry. “Yes, dear, put the cake in the church kitchen... Right on top of the cabinet by the sink... I’ll be down in a few minutes to put out the tablecloths, and we’ll move the cake into the reception room then.”
I hung up, and Vonnie tapped me on the shoulder. “You’ve got a delivery out front.”
I ran to the sitting room to see the FedEx man. I hoped beyond hope he had Evangeline’s veil. The first one I’d ordered had been all wrong for her, what with her stunning new hairdo and all.
I checked the packaging label. “Hooray! I won’t have a bareheaded bride after all,” I crowed, signing on the driver’s electronic form.
With a jingle of the door, he was gone. I sat on the velvet sofa and opened the package. I pulled out a lovely pearl bejeweled comb that would slip into Evangeline’s new hairdo like a tiara. Fastened to the comb was a spray of knee-length organza that was edged with tiny seed pearls and rhinestones. Perfect!
The phone rang again, and I ran back toward the kitchen to catch it. This time Donna, who’d been sitting on a stool and peeling hardboiled eggs for Vonnie’s potato salad, wiped her hands on a towel and grabbed it for me. Would I ever be able to get her out of those black sweats and into something pretty, like a fashionable pale aqua top? I smiled to myself. In a matter of hours, though, she’d be transformed in her bridesmaid dress in a shade of pink that would pull out her natural beauty.
It was Henry on the phone again. “What do you mean there aren’t any daisies in the bridal bouquet?” I squealed. “I promised Evangeline daisies.”
I heard another phone ring. This time, the phone belonged to Donna. She unfastened it from her waistband and held it to her ear. “Hello?”
I continued my conversation. “Uh-huh... yes.”
Donna tapped me on the shoulder. “Lisa Leann?”
“Just a minute,” I said, slightly turning my back on her. “Okay, tell the delivery guy he’s got to take the bouquet back to his shop. It’s got to have daisies mixed with the roses.”
Donna tapped me on the shoulder, holding up her own cell phone. “I think you’ll want to take this. It’s an emergency.”
I held my phone away from me. “Honey, everything is an emergency on the day of a wedding. Hang on.” I finished my call with Henry. “You got that?... Good. Gotta run.”
I turned to Donna, who was standing looking at me with wide blue eyes. “What’s wrong now?” I asked, with only half a smile.
“It’s Wade.”
“Oh. He’s over at the house fixing the leak in my dishwasher. Can’t this wait?”
“Ah, I don’t think so. He’s been trying to call you here at the shop, and when he couldn’t reach you, he called me.”
I must have looked confused, because Donna held her phone higher and said, “It’s Mandy. I think she’s in labor.”
“My lands!” I snatched Donna’s phone. “Wade, is Mandy okay?”
I heard Wade’s warm voice. “Now, Lisa Leann, don’t panic. But it’s a good thing I was here at your place today. Mandy’s water broke, and we’ve got to get her to the hospital. Soon, I’d say.”
I froze and looked at the beehive of activity around me. “Oh! Did you call an ambulance?”
“Yes, but there’s an hour wait. Seems there was a big car accident down on the interstate, and all available trucks are out there.”
“Oh no! An hour’s wait?”
Donna stepped closer. “You want me to go pick her up in the Bronco?”
I nodded.
Donna put her hand on my arm. “Meet us at the hospital, okay?”
“Donna’s coming,” I said into the phone as I watched my friend dive into her leather jacket.
I hung up and returned Donna’s phone to her just before she ran out the door.
When I turned around, the Potluck girls, minus Evangeline and of course Donna, had encircled me.
Lizzie said, “We’ll pray, of course, but how else can we help?”
I handed her a checklist of things to do, the one that I’d hung from my clipboard on a nail on the wall. “Follow this list. Oh, and the hams need to be sliced. They’ll be ready in another twenty. Vonnie can finish her potato salad, and then you’ll need to deliver all the food to the church. See, I’ve listed everything I was going to bring, right here. Oh, and make sure the flowers look good. Someone... Vonnie... needs to deliver the new veil to Evangeline, and the reception hall needs to be set up with the linens and flowers and cake, and the silverware, plates, and napkins, of course.”
“Got it,” Lizzie said, making a few notes with the pen I kept fastened to the top of the clipboard.
I pulled my apron off over my head and hung it on the pegboard by the back door. I turned to address the group. “It’s eleven now, and we have till five this afternoon. Come dressed and ready at four, in case the photographer needs to snap a few poses of you with Evangeline.”
“Don’t worry about anything; we’ll take care of it,” Vonnie said. “Did Wade say how far apart Mandy’s contractions are?”
“Three to five minutes.”
“How long has she been in labor?”
“I don’t know. She’s two weeks from her due date. She complained of a backache this morning, but she thought it wasn’t anything that a hot water bottle couldn’t handle.”
I slipped into my coat.
“Ever hear of back labor?” Vonnie asked.
I felt a heavy cloak of guilt engulf me. “Oh dear, I was so busy I’d missed that. How could I miss that?”
I had my keys and purse by this time, and Lizzie held open the back door, toward the parking lot where my car was. “Don’t worry about that now,” she said. “Just go. Mandy needs you. We can keep things running while you’re gone.”
And run I did, slipping and sliding through last night’s inch of snowfall, all the way to my car.
Then it hit me. It was as if a ray of sunshine sliced through the midmorning chill to ignite my soul with joy. “The baby! I’m going to be a grandmother!”
49
All in All a Good Day
As Clay busied himself with the preparations for the wedding later in the evening, Woodward and Bernstein scampered and scraped in their nearby cage.
“You boys had better cut that out before I get married,” he said. “My bride may not like all the noise you make. Do you know what that means for you? Tiny little fur rugs for my new house, that’s what.”
The gerbils stopped and stared at him as though they understood. Just then, his cell phone rang.
“Whitefield.”
It was his boss.
“Don’t tell me you want me to go out and report on some news story. I’m ge
tting my equipment ready for the Benson-Vesey wedding.”
“Well, take a breather. There’s been a pretty bad accident out on the highway. Head over to the hospital and see what you can find out.”
Clay’s shoulders slumped. “Will do. But I’m not staying forever.”
“Not asking you to.” There was a brief pause. “Oh, and Whitefield ...”
“Yes?”
“My friend Mr. Jean called last night. He’s seen your proposal. Likes what he sees. He’s asked to meet you next week when he comes into town.”
Clay felt his shoulders straighten. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. Now get down to the hospital as quickly as you can.”
Clay said he would. Yes sir, he surely would.
“Clay Whitefield,” he said to the boys. “Novelist.”
Donna
50
Plum Amazing
I flipped on my siren and took off in the direction of Lisa Leann’s condo. As I whipped around the cars that were pulling off the side of the road so I could pass, I called dispatch to inform them of my off-duty adventure. Then I slipped my hand in the brown bag nestled in the front seat and pulled out an oatmeal crispy cookie and popped it into my mouth. It tasted good—crunchy and sweet. The way things were going, this cookie might be the only lunch I’d get.
I turned into the Gold Rush subdivision with its posh condos and pulled in behind Wade’s pickup.
I looked up to see him waving from the top of the stairs of one of the units. He was dressed in his denim jeans and work shirt. “Hurry!” he called to me as I ran across the lawn. Wow, I’d never noticed how steep those stairs were until just now. When I reached the top landing I asked, “Where is she?”
The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake Page 27