“Absolutely not. You love him like he’s your own,” she said. “Far as I’m concerned, he is yours. Besides, do you think your momma stopped loving you when your younger sister was born?”
His grin, when it came, was quick and wicked. “She was sorta ugly as a baby.”
“There you go. Between you and my hideous daughter, it’s obvious your baby will probably have to wear a paper sack over its head.” She started to pop Teague on the shoulder, but he had as much “pudding” on him as Grayson had. “You’ll love that new baby just like your momma and daddy loved every one of their four kids. I don’t know what it’s like, only having had Jenny. But I’m quite certain there’s enough love in your hearts for as many babies as you might want to make. Don’t worry about that.”
His face softened. “I’m scared spitless.”
The laugh she let out was deep and truly amused. “Of course you are. People like to pretend this parenting thing is a spin on a carousel. Truth is, it’s one of those spider-whip rides that makes you toss your cotton candy when you stumble off.”
“And yet you always want to get right back on, right?”
“Right, because kids may be hard work, but they’re worth every bit of it.” She pointed toward the house. “Jenny inside?”
“Yep,” he said. “Back door is open. Go on in.”
He grabbed the wheelbarrow again and headed for the flowerbed, and Abby Ruth found herself patting her hair as if she were primping for a date before she opened the back door. She called for Ritter, more to give him a break from the puppy than anything else. Plus, she could use a distraction to keep her calm for this discussion with Jenny.
Oh, for goodness sake. If you can beat cancer, you can handle this.
Somehow offering to throw her daughter a big hoopla of a wedding seemed scarier, though.
When Abby Ruth entered the house with Ritter at her side, Jenny was just closing the front door. “Did you knock at the front door earlier?”
“Yep. Why didn’t you answer?”
“I was cooking.”
Her boots thudding against the lovingly scarred wood floors, Abby Ruth wandered over to the kitchen counter. “What is it? Is it dead?”
Jenny poked at what appeared to be an over-baked chicken with the tip of her knife. The rainbow of color coming in from the former church’s arched cathedral windows made the bird look as if it was covered with some type of iridescent bacteria. “I think so.”
“I suggest takeout,” Abby Ruth said.
Jenny’s mouth dropped.
“Don’t feel bad. Takeout is my best recipe. Must run in the family.”
“I can cook,” Jenny said.
She was much better in the kitchen than Abby Ruth had ever been, but some things were better left to the professionals. “Being able to doesn’t always mean you should.”
“You’re right. I think this might turn into a Pizza Pie In The Sky night.” Jenny set down her knife with a decisive clang. “So, what brings you by today?”
“Just decided I wanted to see what y’all have been doing with the backyard. Jenny…” She hesitated, feeling like ten kinds of fool.
Concern immediately filled Jenny’s face. “Is everything okay? You’re not feeling—”
“I’m fine. Bell rung, remember?”
Tears clearly visible in her eyes, Jenny came around the counter and wrapped her in a hug. “I can’t do this without you. Please stay well. This baby needs her mimi.”
“And she’ll damn well have one. But she won’t have a proper daddy if you don’t get yourself married.”
Jenny sniffle-laughed. “Oh, he definitely wasn’t proper the night we made this baby.”
“He would poke himself in the ears if he heard you say that in front of me.”
She pulled back, her grin lessening Abby Ruth’s fear of her tears spilling over. “What about you and Red? Don’t you think it’s about time to let him have his improper way with you?”
Although she’d recently been thinking the same thing, this wasn’t the conversation she and Jenny would have today.
“Jenny, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything you want, Mom,” she said with no hesitation. Then she threw a look at the poor excuse of a baked chicken she’d made. “Except wrestle with that thing anymore.”
“Better to let it die in peace. Speaking of which, I know you said that you and Teague planned to just do the justice of the peace thing, but I want you to reconsider.”
“What?”
“Don’t you want pretty pictures of your wedding day? I bet Grayson would love to be the ring bearer or maybe the best man. Both. Is that legal? I’ll find out.”
“Slow down, Mom. If I push this wedding off one more day, Teague will lose his mind. The only reason it’s almost three weeks away is because I told him Sera couldn’t be here any sooner.”
“That’s plenty of time to throw together—” Abby Ruth winced inside at her own words, “—put something nice together. Lil would really like to host the wedding at Summer Haven. She and Maggie are spiffying the place up as we speak.”
“What has gotten into you? Teague and I just need to get married and be done with it.”
“But he’s the sheriff.” Abby Ruth was willing to push whichever button would get her what she wanted. “You owe it to the county to let them join in the celebration. Let’s give this marriage the start it deserves.”
At that moment, Ritter decided to make himself at home, and before either of them could stop him, he had his paws on the counter and was lapping up the juice on the chicken.
“No!” Abby Ruth yelled, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him out of reach of the food. That was all she needed, a dog with some kind of food poisoning. “Sorry. He’s got no manners. But you do, and you should have the wedding that Teague needs to secure his future as an elected official of this town.”
Jenny took in a breath as if she was going to argue, then stopped. “Do you really think it’s that important?”
“It would make so many people happy, including me. And Jenny, I’d really like to coordinate the whole thing.”
* * *
Jenny felt as if someone had plucked her from reality and dropped her into the middle of a cartoon—the kind where the main character shook her head so wildly that marbles rattled loudly inside. “What did you just say?”
Please tell me this is a dream.
“I want to coordinate your wedding. Sugar—” her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders and strolled her toward the living room, “—y’all owe this to yourselves and to the community. I want to do this for you.”
She dragged her feet, trying to slow her mom down, but there was no stopping the steamroller named Abby Ruth Cady. “There’s no time, but I appreciate the sentiment.” True, even though it was weird since her mom had never shown an interest in planning any kind of girly party, much less a wedding. “Maybe you could throw us a small celebration afterwards. Then everyone will be happy.”
“That won’t do at all.” Her mom’s voice was calm, almost sweet, but her eyebrow was arched up like a question mark, and her lips were pulled so tight Jenny could’ve strummed a D chord on them. That look on her mother’s face put an icy fear in her. “Be reasonable.”
As they faced off in the living room, Teague walked inside with Grayson at his side, both in soaking wet clothes head to toe.
“This town wants to see the two of you tie the knot. After all, Teague owes these folks his job and the food he puts on the table, scary as some of it may be.” Her mom turned to Teague and speared him with the look that had made three-hundred-pound linebackers cry for their mommas. “Isn’t that right, Tadpole?”
Jenny prayed he’d pick up on her telepathy and offer an intervention, but he was nodding thoughtfully. Traitor.
Abby Ruth poked Jenny in the shoulder, sending her quickly to a seated position on the couch.
“But…” Jenny didn’t need to lift her head to know that her mother w
as looming above her.
“Here’s how it’s going to be. After my cancer scare last year, I don’t want to miss one important moment of our lives. Your wedding to Teague is something I’ve been waiting for since you were in middle school together. This is way overdue.”
Oh, she had not just played the sick card. How could Jenny argue with that?
“Teague?” Jenny looked at her husband-to-be. Surely he would stop her mom’s insanity.
“I’m sure your dear momma will be thrilled to hear you’re having a real wedding,” Abby Ruth said to him. “I bet you anything she cried when she found out y’all planned to get hitched down at the courthouse, didn’t she? I can call her for you, Tadpole. Let her know to make travel plans.”
“That’d be great.” Teague grinned, making Jenny want to tell him to go to his room in her best mom voice. Which she would the second she’d caught the breath her mom had verbally sucker-punched out of her.
Grayson ran to her side. “Can I be the ring barrel?”
“Ring bearer,” Teague corrected him.
“You sure can, sport,” her mom assured him. “I did some research. My friend Stella is an expert on weddings, and she recommended the best florist in Atlanta.”
“Whoa,” Teague said. “Winnie does everyone’s flowers in this town.”
Abby Ruth sputtered. “My point exactly. You need an even better florist. Extra special. Trust me, you’re going to love it. I’ll bring you samples.”
“Mom, we owe it to our community to use local vendors.”
“See, so you are in.”
“I didn’t say that.” Sometimes Jenny forgot that her mom had been a shrewd reporter who’d been able to weasel the tiniest tidbits out of professional athletes. Times like this, she saw why her mom had been so successful in such a male-dominated field. She could run roughshod over the best of them.
“I have to run.” With a suspicious grin on her face, her mom hustled toward the front door. “I’m picking up Maggie to go talk to the cake people.”
“But you don’t even know what we want,” Jenny said, her heart sinking with the certainty that her wedding was now out of her hands. “Or how many people.”
“I’m the wedding planner. I know everything.” Abby Ruth gave Grayson a noogie on the head and waved over her shoulder as she walked out the front door.
Jenny sank into the couch cushions, letting them support her bulldozed body. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“I don’t know why. She’s been doing that to me ever since I’ve known her.” Teague sloshed over and pulled her up and into his arms, the water from his clothes seeping in to hers.
She pressed her forehead against his chest, cooling what felt like a fever of confusion. “What happened to our private little wedding?”
“Your mom has been through a lot. We should give it to her. My mother was disappointed when I told her there’d be no wedding.”
The fight was slowly being sapped out of her. “But we said it would be small.”
“Come on. Gives us all an excuse to get together. It won’t be so bad.”
She relaxed into his arms. “Sweet Jesus. There’s no telling what kind of circus she’ll put together.”
“Maybe we can have doves fly at the wedding,” Grayson said. “I saw that on television. It was so cool.”
Jenny pressed her hands against Teague’s chest, putting some space between them. “You know if Mom has us release doves that she’ll try to shoot them out of the air.”
Teague laughed. “With her aim, she’d probably get a perfect score. Think we should have a prize?”
“For sure. It would be a regular carnival.” She glared at him. “You might want to wear Kevlar if you’re making those kinds of comments. I’m not a bad shot either.”
“I heard when women get pregnant they can get a little cranky. Is this a warning shot?”
“Don’t push it, Castro.”
Chapter Eight
Now that she’d convinced Jenny that she was the perfect choice for wedding coordinator, it was time for Abby Ruth to put her new role to good work. Next step was to attend a wedding with Stella’s crasher buddies. So she’d invited Stella out for an early supper at an Italian place south of Atlanta.
Stella walked into the restaurant and settled at the table with Abby Ruth. The drawing paper tablecloth crinkled as she scooted in her chair. “Goodness, we keep eating like this and I might gain back that fifteen pounds I lost.”
Picking up a crayon the waitress had left, Abby Ruth sketched out a little bride and groom. “Well, a gal can’t live on cake and champagne alone.”
Stella was no dummy. She pursed her mouth and gave Abby Ruth a pointed stare. “I’ve told you all I know.”
“But your friends—”
“Won’t be my friends anymore if I spill their secrets.”
If Stella wouldn’t out her friends as wedding crashers, Abby Ruth would have to channel Sera’s bang-up computer skills and do an internet search to make a short list of the best wedding venues within thirty miles of Atlanta. She’d sure rather do this the easy way, though. “Whatever you say, but you see, my daughter is getting married and I wanted to ask you about your favorite venues. Nothing but the best for my Jenny.”
Unfortunately, the waitress strolled up about then and asked, “What can I get you girls?”
“Sweet tea for me,” Abby Ruth said quickly.
“Me too.” Stella set her phone on the table, then hung her purse from the handy dandy purse holder contraption she always carried around. “I’m going to run to the little girls’ room.”
Luck was on Abby Ruth’s side, because darn if Stella’s friend Virginia didn’t text right after Stella turned the corner.
Abby Ruth’s body might be aging, but she still had the eyesight of a twenty-year-old. Stella didn’t, so her icons and font were super-sized, and it was easy to read the text from clear across the table.
VIRGINIA: ATL Botanical Garden Sat 1pm. C U There.
Aha, so that was the next wedding those women planned to attend for the teensy price of a ten-dollar donation. Excellent, because it was one of the top venues on Abby Ruth’s list.
Stella returned to the table and glanced at her phone, then turned it facedown. They ate salads and pasta, and Abby Ruth tried to draw the meal out as long as possible, tossing out probing questions now and then. Unfortunately, Stella didn’t offer up any information, so Abby Ruth would have to use the intel she’d gathered from the text.
Now that she had a true starting point for this investigation, she had to force herself to maintain the speed limit all the way home. Things were starting to fall into place, and she could hardly wait to talk to the girls to tell them they’d be attending a wedding this weekend. She’d even be willing to wear a frilly jacket. Hell, she’d put a flower in her best Stetson for this occasion, and normally she had a no-flower policy.
Except when she got home, Lil and Maggie had already turned in for the evening. What were they? Old ladies?
So she headed to the garage to check on Ritter. Strangely, his normally dusty coat was shiny, and a bandanna was tied around his neck.
“What happened to you? You look fourteen doggy years younger there, buddy,” she said, giving him a scratch under the chin. She expected him to lean in to her touch, but he simply snuffled her palm and turned away. That’s when she realized he smelled of…flowers?
Seeing as he wasn’t all that interested in her investigative plans and the gals were already asleep, Abby Ruth spent a night dreaming of bad-guy take-downs. She woke up twisted in her covers as though a cowboy had taken a piggin’ string to her with two half-hitches and a hooey.
She jumped from bed at the first ray of sunshine, raring to get going on the G Team’s newest case. She hummed “Friends In Low Places” as she descended the stairs to feed Ritter. She opened the garage door, and he gave what looked like a yoga stretch. He didn’t even get excited when she filled his bowl with kibble. Just sniffed an
d sat down by his meal.
“You okay, fella?” She kicked the toe of her boot against his dish. “Better eat.” He lay down, his ears spreading out over each side of his paws. “Not hungry? Then come on inside with me for a while.” He jumped to his feet and pranced alongside.
Back inside the house, it was obvious Lil and Maggie were already up from the chatter coming from the parlor.
Excitement two-stepped through Abby Ruth. She and the gals would waltz right into that wedding today and check things out. Maybe even solve Stella’s case right out of the chute.
Although in a way she kind of hoped it might take a little longer. She was ready for some fun.
When she strolled into the parlor with Ritter behind her, it looked as if a magazine stand had exploded. Every tabletop was full of wedding paraphernalia. Magazines lay open, pages turned back to fancy finger foods, frilly dresses, and prissy decorations.
Abby Ruth lifted a roll of flimsy fabric. “What is all this?” She propped her hands on her hips, her right toe tapping.
Lil glanced up, a twinkle in her eye and a bright smile on her face. “Dear, we do have a wedding to plan, and less than three weeks to do it. Since you haven’t done a cotton-picking thing, I thought I’d give you a hand. Time’s a wasting.”
She stood there, unable to look away from what was surely a train wreck.
“Or have you already forgotten?” Lil asked.
Ritter tromped across the room and lay down at Lil’s feet. Better her than me. “No, I haven’t forgotten, but it’s one little wedding. This?” She swung her arm as if she’d turned the last letters on the Wheel of Fortune wall. “This could plan weddings for every debutante from Georgia to Texas, and we could probably toss in an Oklahoma bride or two.”
“It’s not as much as it might seem.” Lil stacked a few of the magazines.
It didn’t make things look any better to Abby Ruth. “I thought we were concentrating on the case.”
“We are, but we can multitask. It’s a good thing I have oodles of experience planning parties. You’ll be tickled pink to know that the bridal show is in Atlanta this week too. We can solve for so many things in one place. It’ll be perfect.”
Wedding Mints and Witnesses Page 7