The Chocolate Bridal Bash

by JoAnna Carl

  The ceremony itself was just fine. Joe told me I looked great in my amber lace dress. He looked pretty good himself, even if he was so nervous he almost dropped the ring.

  My dad escorted me down Aunt Nettie’s steep stairs and kissed my cheek as he handed me over to Joe. His wife, Annie, and my mom smiled at each other and made it look sincere.

  My stepsister, Brenda, seemed pleased to be asked to guard the guest book at the reception, and Tracy and Stacy, the two girls who wait on our counter during the summer, introduced her to a neat guy who thought her Texas accent was really cute.

  My fellow foodie Margaret Van Meter made us a beautiful wedding cake, and Aunt Nettie laid out silver trays of scrumptious chocolates and bonbons. The flowers—pots of white hyacinths in massed arrangements—were beautiful, and everyone admired my wedding ring and my bouquet of yellow roses. Mac McKay had more fun than anybody, unless it was Joe’s dad’s mother, age ninety, who left her central Michigan retirement home for the occasion. Mac brought Inez Deacon over from Dorinda. Lovie even got a new dress and had her hair done. People didn’t recognize her. Ed had grown his hair back, so a lot of people did recognize him.

  But maybe the gate-crasher caused the most comment. He was a nice-looking fellow—thinning white hair and a trim figure—and he appeared in the guest line, smiling a little shyly.

  “Hi,” he said, “I know I’m not invited, but I hope Sally McKinney will vouch for me.”

  “Jake!” Mom ran and gave him a big hug. “You said you couldn’t make it!”

  “I was able to shift some things around,” Jake said. “I didn’t want to miss this. It’s special for you, and you’re special to me.”

  Hmmm.

  I didn’t have time to find out a lot about Jake before Joe and I left on our honeymoon the next afternoon. Is he important to my mom? Or simply an escort? Has she quit running?

  We hadn’t planned on dancing, but somehow it began around eight and went on until midnight. Or so I hear. At eleven Joe and I went on to what had been his apartment and was now our home. And that was perfect, too.

  And the Sunday morning brunch went very well. Mike did omelets to order for anybody who wanted one, and Mercy made hot fruit salad and a coffee cake from her grandmother’s recipe. She got out all her silver and china and reused some of our pots of white hyacinths.

  Then, just before we were going to leave, Aunt Nettie and Hogan beckoned us into Mercy’s bedroom.

  “We wanted to give you your wedding present,” Aunt Nettie said.

  “You’ve already done that,” I said.

  Aunt Nettie’s gesture brushed away four place settings of pottery as insignificant. Then she handed me a flat box wrapped in white paper and embellished with a shiny gold bow. It weighed hardly anything.

  I took the wrapping paper off and opened the box to reveal a whole lot of tissue paper. Beneath the tissue was a photo of Aunt Nettie’s house. I was puzzled.

  “Keep looking,” Aunt Nettie said.

  Under the picture was a legal document. I immediately handed it to Joe. He read it.

  “Oh, my god! Nettie, you shouldn’t do this!” He turned to me. “She’s deeding us her house!”

  I was too stunned to speak, and Aunt Nettie was too tearful.

  A lot of hugging and eye-wiping went on before she explained.

  “The house is yours,” she said. “You don’t have to keep it the way it is. You can tear it down, add on to it—or sell it. It’s just a piece of property, not a shrine.”

  “But you’ve lived there for more than thirty years,” I said. “We can’t put you out of your home.”

  “She won’t be needing it anymore,” Hogan said. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve talked her into moving into my house. After we’re married.”

  CHOCOLATE CHAT

  TWENTY-FIRST-CENTURY CHOCOLATE

  The twenty-first century is bringing a new emphasis on chocolate in exotic forms. And one of the more intriguing offerings is the chocolate equivalent of a coffeehouse.

  In a number of cities it’s now possible to visit a chocolate lounge, marked by comfortable chairs and chocolate truffles and bonbons in exciting flavors. Drinks usually include coffee and, of course, hot chocolate.

  I had the opportunity to visit a chocolate lounge in Chicago. Absolute bliss. Highly recommended for a relaxing hour. What’s not to like about a cup of black coffee to contrast with a Ginger Citrus Truffle or a Mucha Margarita bonbon?

  The healthy aspects of chocolate are being exploited, too. New dark chocolate bars contain bunches of flavanols that fight hypertension, dementia, and diabetes.

  And one company is marketing a chocolate-flavored shake containing healthy fiber.

  What next? Chocolate spinach?

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  About the Author

  JOANNA CARL is the pseudonym of a multipublished mystery writer. She spent more than twenty-five years in the newspaper business, working as a reporter, feature writer, editor, and columnist. She holds a degree in journalism from the University of Oklahoma and also studied in the OU Professional Writing Program. She lives in Oklahoma but spends much of each summer at a cottage on Lake Michigan near several communities similar to the fictional town of Warner Pier. She may be reached through her Web site at www.joannacarl.com.

  Also by JoAnna Carl

  The Chocolate Cat Caper

  The Chocolate Bear Burglary

  The Chocolate Frog Frame-Up

  The Chocolate Puppy Puzzle

  The Chocolate Mouse Trap