The Diva Takes the Cake

by Davis, Krista

  “No.” I hoped I sounded convincing. After all, I hadn’t snooped in his room since his return—though his question made me wonder if I should.

  “The door to that little cabinet in the corner was open, I thought it might have been you.”

  It certainly hadn’t been me, but that news, coupled with the fact that I’d found my nightstand drawer open, suggested that someone was looking for something. Someone too sloppy or too hurried to bother closing everything. Darby and Craig’s father had both been in his room at some point. I looked up at Craig, who was already laughing about an incident at dinner the night before. Was he devious enough to make this announcement in front of people so we wouldn’t suspect him of snooping in my bedroom?

  The rumble of a truck and screeching brakes signaled the arrival of the party rental delivery van. Carrying my cup of coffee with me, I went out the front door and something hard smacked me in the forehead. I stumbled, but even though I regained my footing, coffee spilled down my shirt. I looked back, rubbing my head. Someone had hung a rosary from the door frame. Of all the silly things. I snatched it down and left it on the console in the foyer. My head still smarted as I ventured out to the street to show them the way to the garden.

  Bernie met us in the backyard with a diagram. “I ran up a plan last night.”

  Bernie never ceased to amaze me. His general appearance probably made me underestimate him. He reminded me of a grown-up Dennis the Menace. Spunky, sweet, and more clever than anyone might suspect.

  He took over, and in minutes two neat rows of white garden chairs began to form. I verified the presence of a runner but told them we would roll it out after the rest of the work had been completed.

  My heart sank when the delivery guys hauled in the wedding arch. It was the right size, but that was the only thing about it that worked. Finished in matte bronze that looked more like rust, the top arched in swirls that ended in a gaudy heart. Somehow, I didn’t think that was what Hannah had in mind when she’d asked for a garden wedding. But it was too late to make changes. It was that arch or none at all. I tried to look at the bright side. Hannah and Craig would have some unbelievable wedding stories to tell their children.

  I set up the ladder in the potting shed so I could reach storage boxes. Carrying a coffee mug, Mars arrived just in time for me to hand him an enormous box of Christmas lights and tiny fairy lights on white strings. When I climbed down, he moved the ladder so he could change the bulb in the overhead light.

  “Be careful,” I cautioned as he climbed up. Mars wasn’t exactly the handiest guy. I held the replacement bulb to give him in exchange for the one that had burned out.

  “That’s odd, it was loose like the other one. Try the switch.”

  I flicked the switch and the light came on.

  Mars shook his head like I was incompetent and began the descent. His foot slipped off a tread and I rushed toward the ladder to prevent him from falling. He slid into my waiting arms and stopped.

  For a long moment, we stood in a horribly familiar clutch. The scent of his skin evoked a rush of memories, and it felt like the world had dissolved and left just the two of us.

  A discreet cough from the doorway caused us to jump apart. Wolf leaned against the door frame. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  To make matters worse, Wanda stood next to him.

  “We were changing the lightbulb . . .” My voice faded under their disbelieving glares. I still held the lightbulb we hadn’t needed. Painfully aware of what they must have been thinking, I set it on the table and picked up the box of lights. Wolf and Wanda parted as I walked toward them, but I knew that one innocent moment would cost Mars and me.

  When I emerged, Bernie seized lights for the wedding arch and Kevin showed up. Craig and Kevin took the rest of the lights and started stringing them overhead.

  I motioned to Wolf to follow me. The walk across the lawn and into the kitchen was so awkward, it felt like miles. I was desperately trying to think of an explanation for what Wolf had seen, but everything seemed lame.

  Mom was putting away the last of the breakfast dishes when we entered the kitchen. She winked at me, clueless about Wolf and me. I hurried to the drawer and, to my utter shock, found it hanging open.

  “Why is this open?” I blurted.

  “I guess you left it that way, sweetheart,” Mom said, drying a plate.

  My heart thudded in my chest as I lifted the lid on the icing-tip box where I’d stashed the evidence. Fortunately, whoever had gone through the drawer hadn’t found it. I handed it to Wolf as Mom looked on.

  “You didn’t touch it?” he asked.

  “No. And we left a ribbon to mark the spot where we found it.”

  “You realize that you were compromising a crime scene by going behind the yellow tape.”

  I explained that we did not enter the area marked off by yellow tape and that Daisy had alerted us to the item in the alley.

  He held up the packet, and Mom studied it. Even Mochie jumped to the counter to peer at it. Wolf stuffed the package into his pocket and ran a hand over Mochie’s gleaming fur. “I doubt that it has anything to do with Emily’s death. My men did a thorough sweep. They would have seen it.”

  “Are you saying someone put it there afterward? Like to throw everyone off?” asked Mom.

  “I don’t think we’ll even be that lucky. It was probably there for years and no one noticed.”

  “Impossible,” I pronounced before realizing that contradicting Wolf’s professional opinion probably wasn’t the way to endear myself to him. “It’s sterling silver, it would have tarnished.”

  “How do you know it’s sterling silver?” asked Wolf.

  Mom laughed. “My girls know their jewelry. It would be marked 925.”

  He pulled the package out and peered at the necklace. His gaze flicked to me and I knew he’d found the sterling mark. He tucked it away again and let out a long, slow sigh. Saying good-bye very politely, Wolf let himself out the kitchen door, and I had the horrible feeling that my last chance at dating him had just burst like a soap bubble.

  When I returned to the backyard, Craig was proudly handing out the knives he’d purchased for the men in the wedding party and, to my surprise, they turned out to be very practical for cutting ribbons and wires.

  Dad planted shepherd’s hooks along both sides of the aisle between the chairs and hung baskets of hot pink gerbera daisies I’d ordered from a local nursery.

  Prompted by a desperate call from Nina, my favorite florist showed up early with flowers for Bernie and Dad to twine onto the ghastly arch.

  I stopped by the potting shed to retrieve the coffee mugs Mars and I had left there and found Joel looking around, a large shovel in his hands. “Planting something?” I teased.

  Joel returned the shovel to the corner and leaned the handle against the wall. “Nosing around, actually. Do you think the shed predates the house?” He walked out with me and gazed up at my house. “It’s just so cool to think that people lived here during the Civil War.”

  I asked for a hand and cringed when Mars volunteered. He followed me to the kitchen to deposit the mugs and then to the basement. I debated whether to bring up that awkward moment earlier, but in the end, he didn’t say anything about it and I chickened out. We both knew it was nothing and best left alone. We found boxes of mirrors and crystals hung on clear filament that I had used at a formal black and white function, but when we emerged from the basement, Natasha waited in my kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, her face taut.

  Wanda must have told her about Mars and me in the shed. I collected myself and waited for her to yell at us for being alone together in the basement.

  “I don’t suppose you saw my mother down there?”

  “Took off again, did she?” asked Mars.

  “I don’t know why no one wants to be at our house. I fixed a lovely brunch of scallops in tarragon and wine, goat ricotta blintzes, and strawberries Romanoff. The cute pots of herbs in my tablescape took me th
ree months to grow. But the only one who bothered to show was Mordecai. He fed his little dog my scallops and blintzes.”

  “No strawberries?” I joked.

  “Seems the dog doesn’t care for strawberries. And neither does Mordecai.”

  I felt sorry for Natasha. I knew how much work she’d put into her fancy brunch. It must have hurt that Kevin and Mars chose to help us instead of appreciating her efforts.

  But then she said, “Honestly, Sophie, don’t you have any clothes that aren’t worn out or grubby? What is that brown spot on your shirt? If you need money, you could try to write a more sophisticated column. Mine was just picked up by newspapers in North Carolina and Georgia.”

  My moment of compassion passed.

  When we walked outside, Craig and his lighting team were working on the small passage that led from the gate to the backyard. Humphrey helped them but scowled at Craig and, for once, didn’t even notice me walk by.

  Hannah, Darby, Phoebe, and the bridesmaids launched themselves at the boxes of mirrors and crystals. Everyone in the wedding party seemed to be in good humor and enjoying themselves, except for Phoebe and Joel, who were barely speaking to each other. Even Hermione didn’t seem to mind the chaos. Darby crouched and patiently held out a piece of kibble. Hermione debated the risk but after a few seconds, she couldn’t ignore the lure of food, grabbed the morsel, and ran.

  Natasha sidled up to me. “What a pity everything is in pink tones. My pheasant feathers and curly willow branches will arrive in a few hours. We can swap them out then.”

  It took all my self-control not to lash out at her. Calmly, and in as sweet a tone as I could muster, I said, “If you even try a swap, I swear I’ll toss you out of here on your fancy fanny. If you want to pitch in, then please do. But I am not going to let you criticize when everyone else is working so hard to make this a lovely day.”

  She craned her neck, flabbergasted. “I believe I have some hanging votive holders that would be darling suspended from tree branches. I’ll bring them by as soon as I find my mother.”

  She strode away, but I didn’t have time to give Natasha or her missing mother any more thought because the linens had arrived.

  Bernie had arranged rectangular tables in a large U shape on my patio. Unfortunately, the tablecloths were round. With Phoebe’s help, I spread them so they overlapped and we pinned small bouquets of blossoms where they joined.

  “Joel seems nice,” I said, pinning blooms.

  “I was hoping the wedding might make him think about popping the question but now I’m having second thoughts.”

  “Problems?”

  “He’s been different, moody and distant.” She shifted to a whisper. “Last night we had a big argument about whether Hannah should marry Craig after all that’s happened, and he’s completely against the wedding.”

  “Oh, Phoebe, he’s not the only one.”

  Phoebe flushed. “I’m beginning to think he’s not the marrying kind. It’s his dream to reopen the family jewelry store, and I had fantasies of working together. But when he was talking about Hannah and Craig, he might as well have been talking about us.”

  “Have you met his family?”

  She pinned a bouquet onto the tablecloth. “They’re wonderful people. His father died of a heart attack a few years ago. Joel says it was the stress of a lawsuit that caused them to lose the family business, but I’ve seen pictures and his dad was more than a little portly. I nag Joel about getting exercise and eating right. That kind of thing can run in the family, and he is far too devoted to French fries and any meat that comes from a pig.” Phoebe straightened up and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I guess I won’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re barely speaking at this point.”

  I glanced up at Joel, who stood on a ladder and wrapped a strand of lights onto a tree. He was out of shape, but his thick neck suggested he’d worked out. “Did he play football?”

  “He didn’t want to be known as the girlie jewelry boy growing up, so he was very involved in sports.”

  Even though he wasn’t tall, I would have considered him brawny. The additional pounds rounded out a sweet face, and I could see why she found him appealing.

  She nudged me. “Don’t tell Hannah we’re breaking up. I don’t want to spoil her special day.”

  Uncle Stan and Robert arrived carrying boxes, which Natasha had sent over. Mom filmed giant, macho Stan relaying Natasha’s explanations to Hannah and her bridesmaids. Stan held up a completed example of a plain tin and glass lantern tied with a broad pink ribbon to suspend it from a tree limb. A pink votive candle rested inside.

  I could hardly believe my eyes. No feathers and not even a whisper of brown.

  The girls assembled the lanterns, and Robert patiently hung them where they directed.

  By one in the afternoon, the backyard had been transformed into a wedding wonderland. More lovely than I’d ever imagined and not a bit tacky. Perfect for a gracious southern garden wedding.

  Wanda must have turned up at Natasha’s house because the two of them surprised us by spreading blankets on the grass and serving homemade gourmet pizzas for lunch. Smoked-salmon pizza, shitake and crimini mushroom pizza, even a Tex-Mex pizza with a punch of jalapeño peppers was dished out, along with freshly squeezed lemonade.

  I hated it when Natasha demonstrated thoughtfulness. It made it so much harder to deal with her haughtier side. Nabbing a piece of mushroom pizza, I settled on the blanket and almost croaked when Mars sat next to me. Jen plopped down on the other side. Sipping refreshing lemonade, I looked around. It was almost like we’d thrown a special party. Natasha and Wanda were the only ones who didn’t look a little bit grubby, but everyone seemed to be having a good time.

  Between bites of pizza, Jen said, “This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to.”

  That wasn’t saying much. At ten, I doubted she’d been to many.

  But Mars leaned over and said, “Me, too.”

  Uncle Stan rose and clinked a fork against his lemonade glass. “I would like to take this opportunity to welcome Hannah into the Beacham family. And to show our love for Hannah, we would like to present her with a token of our affection. That all-important something new to wear on her wedding day. Hannah?” Stan held out a box so small that it could only contain jewelry.

  Hannah stood up, kissed Uncle Stan’s cheek, and accepted the box. She pulled off the ribbon and opened it. Her eyes bright with excitement, she removed a necklace and held it up for everyone to see.

  On the end of a gold chain a diamond sparkled in the sunlight. Just like the one Emily had worn.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  From “Ask Natasha” :

  Dear Natasha,

  My daughter wants a white reception. White linens, white flowers, white chairs, white china—you get the very stark picture. I’m afraid it will look too sterile. What can I do to make it festive?

  —Color-Crazed Mom in Colomokee

  Dear Color-Crazed Mom,

  The trick to working with white is to add a metal. Gold, silver, bronze, or copper will add the spark of interest you’re looking for. Use metallic balls in centerpieces. Adorn place cards with a tiny glint of metal. Use it on napkin rings or ribbons or tablecloth overlays. You can buy sheets of 24-karat gold leaf that are perfect for this kind of application. The hint of sparkle will make all the difference.

  —Natasha

  While the others admired the necklace, I stared at it in horror. My flesh crawled and I could only think of Emily. Was it the one she had worn? Or the necklace in Craig’s tuxedo? Were there three different necklaces or only one?

  I sat on the blanket, paralyzed with fear for Hannah. The necklace was a lovely gesture, but to me it symbolized Emily’s tragic demise. I longed to yank it off Hannah’s neck and had to convince myself that it didn’t mark her for death.

  Phoebe, Joel, Jen, and my parents admired the generous gift. Nearly salivating, Wanda and Natasha edged in for a closer look.


  But Nina, who’d seen the similar necklace on Emily, crouched behind me and said, “Think that’s the necklace of a dead woman?”

  Mars leaned to the side to see Nina’s face. “Why would you say something so awful?”

  “She means Emily. She was wearing a necklace like that when we met her.”

  Lowering his voice, he asked, “And you think that’s Emily’s necklace? Oh, that’s too morbid. You two are sick.”

  I hoped he was right. Still, the necklace scared me. Hannah basked in the attention she was receiving as the bride, but the diamond that lay in the hollow of her neck seemed as sinister as a poisonous snake.