I wasn’t exactly brokenhearted, but mindful of my promise to myself to accept Craig and not butt into Hannah’s life, I merely said, “I never like to see my sister upset.”
For a few seconds I had the feeling he wasn’t sure if I was friend or foe.
“Well then, we have something in common after all.” He headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and I wondered if he knew my sister better than I thought. In two hours, Hannah would have cooled down.
I walked into the foyer and yelled up the stairwell, “He’s gone!”
Hannah’s voice came from behind, spooking me. She must have been in the dining room.
“So I heard. He doesn’t know anyone in Old Town. Where could he go?”
She couldn’t be serious. Old Town was located just outside Washington, D.C. There were hundreds of places to go.
Hannah fingered the skirt of her pale peach dress. She wore teeny pearl earrings and shoes reminiscent of ballet slippers. My vibrant, lively sister had become a faded mouse.
I ushered her across the narrow foyer and into the kitchen. Handing her ribbons in soft pink and the brighter cherry color, I said, “Tie up the favor boxes while we talk. Mom and Dad will be here soon, I need to pack cookies to add to the out-of-town-guest baskets and deliver them, the whole family’s coming for dinner, and I have to set up the dining room for the dessert party.” She could complain all she wanted as long as she worked.
Hannah sank into a chair at the kitchen table and held the ribbons without enthusiasm. “Everyone’s on their way and now there might not even be a wedding. What a nightmare. Why did he do this to me?”
I put on a kettle for soothing tea, every fiber in my body itching to scream,
He’s awful. Be glad you’re rid of him.
But I knew better. If I said that, Hannah would hate me by dinnertime, when she’d have gotten over the blow of Craig’s deception.
Instead, I asked, “How about a piece of Chocolate Hazelnut Torte? I made it for the dessert party tonight, but no one would mind if we stole a piece. After all, this is an emergency.”
“Chocolate? Are you insane? I have to fit into my wedding dress in two days.”
I stared at her.
Hannah burst into wry laughter. “My life has been focused on this wedding for so long, it’s second nature to think of it.” She sat up straight. “But this
is
an emergency. Bring on the cake.”
I cut a hefty piece for each of us and placed the slices on pink earthenware dessert plates I’d bought for the dessert party Natasha and I were hosting.
“Did you confirm with all the vendors?”
For pity’s sake, I was an event planner. I couldn’t control Craig or his ex-wife, but the wedding should go smoothly. I ticked them off on my fingers as I talked. “Yesterday, I confirmed with the caterer, florist, rental house, ice sculptor, musicians, Carlyle House, and minister. All systems go.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Hannah leaped to her feet but relaxed when she saw my neighbor, Nina.
“I thought you were here. Craig pulled out in a big hurry, spinning his tires. What’s going on?” Nina extended her arms for a hug from Hannah.
I cut another slice of cake and poured vanilla spice tea while Hannah filled in Nina about the evil ex-wife. They pushed the cute favor packages together to make room for plates and mugs.
While Hannah unburdened herself, I fetched boxes of gift baskets from the den and deposited them at their feet.
The bags were almost finished—all except for the but terscotch cookies Hannah wanted to include. I’d baked the soft, chewy cookies in advance and stashed them in the freezer. While they started on their cake, I brought the container of cookies to the table. Although they’d been stored in the freezer, they didn’t actually freeze. And I had discovered that like the brownies I was forever sticking in the freezer so I wouldn’t eat more, they were almost as good nearly frozen.
I stashed two cookies in each small pink bag, which I passed to Nina until all the bags were full. Nina ignored them as long as she could. “I don’t do bows.”
“No bows necessary. I took a curling ribbon from a silver roll and another from a cherry roll and tied them around the top of the cookie bag. Using a kitchen knife, I pulled along the ribbons to make them curl.
“You try.” I pushed the ribbon toward her.
“I didn’t do this kind of thing for my own wedding.” She leveled a gaze at Hannah. “Are you sure this is necessary?”
Hannah stared into her tea like she hoped she would find answers in the cup. “Craig is unlike any man I’ve ever known. He’s so precise and organized. Very private and subdued. You know, like not wanting fuchsia as a wedding color. He’s not into flashy stuff.”
Not much of a reason to marry the man, as far as I was concerned.
“He almost clings to me.” She dropped a package of the cookies into a gift basket and tied a beautiful bow with translucent hot pink,
excuse me, cherry
ribbon shot through with silver thread. “I’ve never felt so needed by a man, even if he does have an ex-wife.”
I half expected violins to start playing and did all I could to maintain a straight face. Nina’s eyes grew large and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Hannah, honey. The ex-wife is already here!”
THREE
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
All my girlfriends are getting married next year, as am I. One of them selected bridesmaids’ dresses identical to mine, and now she’s considering the same reception site. I want to be married on July 13 because it’s my parents’ anniversary. I’m afraid she’ll steal the date if I announce it. How do I keep my date quiet?
—Tying the Knot in Tyrone
Dear Tying,
You don’t! As soon as you book the reception site and church, send Save the Date announcements. They have become a must so your guests can plan ahead. Use good quality card stock, handwrite them with a calligraphy pen, and add a simple ribbon or go all out with rhinestones or glitter stamps.
—Natasha
I stood up, waltzed behind my sister, and waved my hands at Nina, signaling her to knock it off. “You’re going to scare Hannah. We don’t know if that woman was Craig’s ex-wife.”
Hannah didn’t miss a beat. She twisted in her chair and demanded, “You knew about this and didn’t say anything?”
I tried to be the voice of reason. “She claimed to be a friend of Craig’s. Don’t you think she’d have told me if she was his ex?”
Nina licked chocolate icing off the back of her fork. “Not if she planned to disrupt the wedding.”
“She’s already being disruptive,” whined Hannah. “Why did he keep her a secret? My first two husbands were slime, but at least I knew about their previous wives and girlfriends. Do you keep secrets from your husband, Nina?”
“Absolutely. But he’s not allowed to have any. I warned him before we were married, and I suggest you do the same—I will snoop. When he takes a shower, I go through his wallet. When he goes for a walk, I go through his briefcase. I always check his pockets, and he knows I review our credit card bills with a skeptical eye. My first husband never met a woman he didn’t like, and I’m not going through that again.”
I plopped back into my chair and savored the moist torte quietly, glad that I’d never had issues of trust in my marriage to Mars, short for Marshall. Instead of putting effort into the marriage, we’d thrown ourselves into our jobs until it seemed like we only passed in the night and shared the same coffeemaker. We eventually went our separate ways and managed to remain friends, but I had mixed feelings about the fact that he’d set up housekeeping on my block with Natasha, the local domestic diva who had her own TV show. For the most part, though Natasha and I sometimes clashed, Mars and I got along fine.
“What did she look like?” asked Hannah.
“A little flashy. Brunette hair, stilettos, and a honker of a diamond around her neck.”
I suppressed a grin. Nina had studied the woman rather carefully. Was she worried about someone tracking down her husband? A forensic pathologist, he traveled constantly and could easily have another wife stashed somewhere.
“Not like me at all? Physically, I mean?”
“Quite the opposite.” Nina appraised Hannah. “I see what you mean. Men are often attracted to the same type.”
Hannah swallowed her last bite of cake. “What do I do now?”
I bit my lip to keep from telling her
my
opinion. But I couldn’t resist scolding her a little. “Those wedding Web sites are scary. I had no idea they provided so much information. If Craig’s ex-wife wants to make a fuss, she not only has dates and addresses, but directions, too.”
“I didn’t know I had to hide anything.” Hannah adjusted a big bow. “Everyone uses those wedding sites now. They’re so convenient. No one had to call me and ask about hotels. They just clicked on the link and made reservations. Besides, if Craig had been up front with me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
The phone interrupted our conversation, and I rose to answer it.
Natasha spoke testily over the line. “Your dear dog Daisy has been howling since I got home ten minutes ago. I have guests arriving soon and the party tonight, and I don’t have time to walk her. Come over here and pick her up now!”
I could hear my poor little hound mix yowling in the background. I hung up, grabbed Daisy’s leash, and told Nina and Hannah where I was going.
Neither Mars nor I could bear to give up sweet Daisy when we divorced, so we shared custody. Now that Mars and Natasha lived in the massive house at the end of the block, transfers had become quick and easy. Technically, this was Mars’s week to have Daisy, but I thought I’d better rescue her from Natasha.
I strolled along our street, enjoying the gentle air of early summer. A white clematis bloomed amid ivy on my neighbor’s house but, like several houses on our block, the owners were away. Mars’s mother and a host of my older neighbors had embarked on a three-week trip that included cruising in Egypt and Greece.
I crossed the street to Natasha and Mars’s home.
A curving stairway with a wrought-iron railing led up to the front door. Carefully trimmed topiary flanked the base of the steps, and periwinkle petunias cascaded from boxes hanging on the railing.
The doorbell played the wedding march when I pressed it. You’d have thought it was
her
sister getting married.
Although we could barely squeeze in all the wedding events, Natasha had insisted that she absolutely had to throw a party for Hannah and Craig. My mother and Hannah, huge fans of Natasha’s, compromised by suggesting she share hosting duties with me at the dessert party. I balked, of course, since I knew Natasha’s personality so well, but I had to concede that she’d always been nice to Hannah and seemed to like her a lot.
Natasha and I grew up together in the small town of Berrysville, Virginia. We competed at everything as children—everything except the beauty pageants that made Natasha think she was a queen. Now that we were adults, one would expect the rivalry to be over, but Natasha went after the things she wanted. The truth was that she did
not
steal Mars from me, but no one believed me about that. And when I bought out Mars’s share of our house and Natasha realized she wouldn’t be living there, she had the nerve to buy a house on my block. It was on the other side of the street, and on the opposite corner, but it wasn’t quite far enough away for comfort.
She flung open the door, her dark hair perfect, an impeccable silk outfit hanging on her slender figure like it would on a mannequin.
I flicked away a bit of chocolate cake on my own shirt but only succeeded in smudging it into a brown blotch.
“Daisy is downstairs and she won’t come up.” Natasha led me across gleaming hardwood floors and an Oriental carpet to an open door at the top of stairs.
“Daisy!” I called.
Paws thudded against the wood stairs. Daisy’s tail wagged, and she wriggled with excitement. I grabbed her in a big dog hug when she emerged.
“Thank goodness. I couldn’t stand that howling another minute. Could you try not to pet her inside? You’ll leave dog hair all over my clean floor.” Natasha pressed a careful hand against her brow. “I know it’s Mars’s week to have Daisy, but I just can’t have her here with company and the wedding and all. You’ll have to take her.”
I’d rather keep her all the time, but I didn’t want to be unfair to Mars, and if I let on that I was happy to have Daisy, Natasha would want her back. Keeping my tone low-key, I muttered, “No problem.”
“About the wedding. Did you talk Hannah out of those hideous pinks? They’re so juvenile. And they simply don’t match my decor. I can’t possibly decorate for the dessert party if she uses pinks. I assume that’s why you used those unfortunate colors in your window boxes. They’re not becoming against the brick.”