Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The (20 page)

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Authors: Krista Davis

Tags: #Winston; Sophie (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #General, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Cooks, #Large Type Books, #Cookery, #Mystery, #Divorced Women, #Cooking, #Divorced Women - Crimes Against, #Weddings, #Crimes Against, #Sisters

BOOK: Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The
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“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 three 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.
Mars’s expression of disgust turned to amusement. “Nat’s not going to be happy when she realizes she lost her boy toy.” He cocked his head toward Kevin, who was gazing at Darby with more than a passing interest.
“At least someone is happy,” I grumbled. “You’re upset with Natasha, Phoebe and Joel aren’t speaking, my relationship with Wolf is down the tubes, and poor Humphrey’s hopes have been dashed—altogether a lousy weekend for relationships.”
Our workers scattered to rest, shower, and dress for the wedding. Near the hydrangea that climbed the wall of the potting shed, Hannah and Craig shared a romantic kiss that made me itch to get into Craig’s room again to find out if the diamond necklace was still in his pocket. I sprinted to the house, but the two of them followed. Puttering around the kitchen, I surreptitiously kept tabs on Craig. When he called Hannah and Jen into the living room, I thought my chance had arrived and I started up the stairs. Unfortunately, Mom spotted me and pulled me into the living room with the rest of my family.
In front of his little audience, Craig said, “I want to apologize for leaving yesterday. I know this won’t make it up to you but I wanted you to have these.” He handed Hannah and Jen white boxes.
Jen ripped hers open faster than I’d have thought possible. “Ohhh, it matches my dress.” She lifted a small silver tiara set with faceted rose and clear crystals and placed it carefully on top of her auburn hair. Twirling like a ballerina, she asked, “Do I look like a princess?”
I had ordered a special crown of pink and white roses for Jen to wear, pinned on with sparkly hair ornaments. I hated for it to go to waste, but Craig’s heart was in the right place.
Hannah lifted a similar but larger tiara from her box. I had to hand it to Craig, the tiaras were the perfect touch of bling. Not too flashy or pretentious and they fit the pink theme of the wedding.
Tears rolled down Hannah’s cheeks, and I thought I might be ill at the way she gazed adoringly at Craig. I turned to find Humphrey looking as sick as I felt.
“We have to put a stop to this,” he muttered as we retreated to the kitchen where Wanda watched Mochie eat kibble out of an open-toed white satin shoe adorned by a swirl of Swarovski crystals. I’d been with Hannah when she paid a small fortune for them.
“What on earth?” I reached out to rescue the shoe, but Wanda caught my arm.
“Don’t disturb him. It’s good luck to have a house cat eat out of your shoe.”
“Is it bad luck if he chews up the shoe?” I asked.
Wanda clucked at me. “Don’t be silly. Cats don’t chew shoes like dogs do. And the way things have been going, poor Hannah needs all the good luck she can get. Natasha even hung a rosary over the door for good weather.”
I rubbed my forehead. “I banged into that thing this morning.”
Wanda smiled. “But the weather is great. Natasha is hanging a horseshoe out back right now.”
If I knew Natasha, she was ripping out all our hard work and replacing everything with feathers. Ignoring Humphrey’s pleas for my attention, I whipped outside, Daisy running alongside me, and barged into the backyard.
To my utter amazement, Natasha was draping boxwood swags on the shed, attaching them with light pink grosgrain ribbon. I sputtered, at a complete loss for words.
“I hope you don’t mind my dressing up the shed. It’s so plain.”
On the window facing the wedding arch, she’d hung a large heart-shaped wreath covered with blooms of pink in every conceivable shade and shape. I had filled the window box below weeks ago, but now a horseshoe nestled, open side up, among the rambling petunias.
At this point, I felt decorating the shed was overkill, but it seemed entirely too ungracious and unkind to say so.
“No feathers?” I asked.
Natasha stopped fussing with the swag. “Honestly, Sophie, I don’t know how you deal with vendors all the time. They promised me they’d be at the hotel early this morning, but when they arrived and realized no functions would be held there, they took my feathers back to the warehouse and didn’t even bother to call me. They’re supposed to be here any minute, but I have my doubts.”

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