Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Southern Sewing Circle 10 - Wedding Duress (7 page)

Tori stopped at the base of the church steps, pulled her leather-bound planner from her purse, and flipped it open to the list of items she needed to check off before relieving Nina in time for lunch.

Pastor Watkins was all set for the wedding with the lone exception of the vows she and Milo pledged to have in the man’s hands by the end of the week. Hers were almost done, save for a few final tweaks. They’d been both easy and hard to write—easy, because her feelings for Milo ran deep, but hard, too, because she wanted to word everything just right. He deserved that.

Uncapping her pen with her teeth, she made a check next to
pastor
before skimming her way down the rest of her list for that morning.

Check in with Margaret Louise about favors.

Check in with Dixie about reading.

Get miniature pillow to Leona.

Go over parking for reception with Georgina.

She glanced at her wristwatch and noted the time—the post-breakfast hour—and the fact that it was a Wednesday, making it entirely possible she could kill all four birds with one stone. Her mind made up, she recapped her pen, slipped it into her purse along with her notebook, and headed toward the once-a-month Super Seniors meeting at Johnson’s Diner.

At the end of the block, she turned left, and then right, Waters Hardware and Southern Style Gifts melding into each other as she nodded a greeting to several familiar faces along her route. When she finally reached the diner, she was more than relieved to recognize the powder blue station wagon parked beneath a weeping willow tree on the south side of the lot. If nothing else, Margaret Louise was still inside.

She took the steps at a rapid pace, stepping aside as she reached the front door to allow a threesome of white-haired residents to exit the diner, the smiles on their faces proof that getting out among peers was good for the soul no matter what the age. And when she heard the laughter as she finally made her way inside, she couldn’t help but wish, if only for a moment, that she, too, could be a part of the group.

“Well, would you look who’s here,” bellowed a familiar voice just beyond the half wall that separated the
waiting area from the dining room. “Why, it’s Victoria, ’bout thirty years early, but no less welcome!”

Waving at her polyester-clad friend, Tori made her way over to the table that stretched across the center of the room. She bent down, kissed the top of Margaret Louise’s head, and then nodded at the latest addition to the woman’s sweat suit collection. “New color?”

The grandmother of eight beamed. “It was a birthday present from my grandbabies. They took a vote and it was six to two in favor of navy with a hot pink pinstripe.”

“Suggested, no doubt, by Lulu,” Tori guessed as an image of Margaret Louise’s now-eleven-year-old granddaughter flashed before her eyes.

Dixie, who was seated on the opposite side of the table, twisted her mouth around for a moment. “You expect us to believe that the baby voted, too?”

“He did. Jake Junior said so.” Margaret Louise peered down at her outfit then back up at Tori. “They put three colors in front of him and waited for him to touch one with his little hand. Course, when Matthew touched this one, he got it wet with drool, but that’s no bother. Makes it extra special that way.”

“Yes it does.” Tori gestured toward the empty seats at her friends’ end of the table. “Is it safe to say your meeting is all but wrapping up?”

Dixie nodded then patted the empty spot at the end. “Is everything okay at the library?”

“Everything is fine. Nina is holding down the fort for me until lunch so I can get a few more things done before the wedding.”

“Ten more days, can you believe it?” Dixie mused softly. “Sometimes it seems you just got here, Victoria.”

She waited for the inevitable reminder that her arrival in Sweet Briar had signified the end of Dixie’s forty-plus year reign as head librarian, but it didn’t come. Instead, Dixie continued on, a hint of moisture in the corners of her eyes. “And now, you’re set to marry Milo Wentworth.”

“I hope you’re jotting this down, Margaret Louise.” Georgina scooted her own chair closer to their end of the table. “Because a moment like this really should be documented for posterity.”

“A moment like what?” Dixie snapped.

“I reckon Georgina is referrin’ to you not remindin’ Victoria that she stole your job out from under you like you’ve been remindin’ her ’n everybody else ever since.”

Dixie’s eyes widened behind her bifocals only to disappear behind her palms. “Have I been that bad?”

“Yes,” Georgina and Margaret Louise chorused.

Tori reached across the corner of the table and gently squeezed Dixie’s upper arm. “Dixie, that’s all water under the bridge. Has been for a long time. You know that.”

“We’re just ribbin’ you, Dixie.” Margaret Louise leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her ample chest. “So what brings a youngin’ like you to a meetin’ like this, Victoria?”

Dixie’s hands slowly lowered to the table as she turned her still red face toward Tori. “I’ve narrowed my selection of poems down to two. I’ll know which one I’m going to read at the wedding by the weekend.”

Tori hiked her purse onto her lap and fished out her notebook and pen once again. Flipping it open to the correct page, she moved the pen down to the appropriate line and placed a check to its left. “You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to. Just make sure to get the
title and author of the one you select to Nina by Sunday. She and Duwayne need it to finalize the wedding booklet for the church service.”

“I’d like that,” Dixie whispered. “That way it can be a surprise for you and Milo on your special day.”

“We’d like that, too.” Tori took in her list and moved on to Georgina. “Will parking be a problem with your neighbors? I can’t imagine they’ll be all too excited about having as many as six dozen cars lining their street.”

“They could always call the mayor and complain,” Margaret Louise quipped, clearly pleased with her joke. “Oh. Wait. You
are
the mayor, ain’t you, Georgina?”

Georgina waved aside Tori’s worry with a quick hand. “I’ve already talked with my neighbors. What cars don’t fit on my own circular drive will be parked in my next-door neighbor’s driveway while they’re on a cruise.”

Hijacking Tori’s pen from the table, Dixie leaned over and placed a check next to that item. “There. That’s one more thing done.” Then, pointing at Margaret Louise, Dixie added, “We’ve only got about another twenty or so favor bags to go, right?”

“Lulu just did three more last night, so I think we’re down to sixteen if my count is correct.” Margaret Louise tapped her chin with her forefinger and then nodded. “Yep, sixteen to go. I imagine we’ll have ’em done by Friday.”

Dixie placed a check next to that line, too, then shoved the notebook away with a look of disgust. “Frankly, if it were
my
wedding, I’d un-invite that one. She doesn’t deserve to come as far as I’m concerned.”

Margaret Louise sat up tall, pulling the notebook into view, her face falling with a mixture of disdain and
sadness in short order. “I wish I could argue with Dixie, but I can’t. Not after what she did to Rose.”

“I haven’t laid eyes on her since our circle meeting on Monday night and I can’t say I’m sad about that.” Georgina fidgeted with the rim of the straw hat she’d draped across her lap, the snarl she wore across her mouth evident in her voice as well. “The fact that she could sit there and act as if she did nothing wrong just blows my mind clear out of my head. I mean, I know she didn’t learn that kind of meanness from Annabelle.”

“She sure didn’t,” Margaret Louise mumbled. “And she didn’t learn it from Daddy, either. Though lookin’ back, I s’pose the way he spoiled her has somethin’ to do with all her struttin’.”

It pained Tori to hear them talk about Leona with such disgust, it really did. Because as wrong as she knew the woman had been, she also knew Leona had a good heart, too.

“So nobody has talked to her since the other night at your house, Georgina?” she asked.

All three heads shook side to side in unison. After a moment, Margaret Louise looked up and pinned Tori with a tired stare. “I take it you haven’t, either?”

“I’ve tried to. Several times. But she hasn’t answered any of my calls.”

Georgina harrumphed.

“Why bother trying? She doesn’t deserve a friend like you . . . or any of us, for that matter,” Dixie declared. Then, softening her tone, she offered an apologetic shrug in Margaret Louise’s direction. “I swear, Margaret Louise, I don’t know how on earth the two of you could have been born from the same parents, let alone on the same
day. You two are as different as night and day—the nice, kind twin, and the mean, evil one.”

Her heart ached for the heavyset woman with the heart of gold. Sure, Margaret Louise knew her sister was flawed, but flawed or not, Leona was still her sister.

“Those calls I’ve been trying to make to Leona?” she said to Dixie and Georgina, while looking at Margaret Louise. “They’re because she called me to inquire about Beatrice. And she made that call because she
does
care.”

“She cares?” Dixie echoed. “Oh, please.”

Tori grabbed the notebook from the table, closed it, and stuffed it back into her purse. “Look, I won’t argue that what she did to Rose on her show Sunday night was wrong. And deep down inside, I think she knows it was wrong, too. But I’ll tell you this much: If Rose can see past the infraction to the hurting soul behind it, I think we should be able to try and do the same.”

When they said nothing, she added, “There’s some good in Leona, too, you know.”

“Good that’s becoming harder and harder to find, if you ask me.” Dixie drummed her fingers atop the table and then pointed at Tori’s bag. “So do you have the pillow in there?”

“I do.”

“Can we see it?”

For a moment, she considered saying no. After all, there had been enough Leona bashing for one day. But finally, she reached into her bag once again and pulled out the small satin and lace pillow she’d made for Paris and held it out for her friends to see. “See the two ties on top? Those will hold our rings in place. The larger tie on the bottom will secure around Paris’s neck.”

“I still can’t believe you’re actually going to let that woman’s bunny rabbit be your ring bearer,” Georgina said. “Excuse me, let me rephrase. I can’t believe you’re actually going to let that woman’s bunny be your ring
girl
.”

Tori held the pillow out for an extra second or two, and then, when she was sure Margaret Louise and Dixie had seen it, too, she plopped it back into her bag and stood. “Paris has been part of our group since not long after I came. And believe it or not, Leona has been a big part of my life here in Sweet Briar. It seems only right that both she and Paris are a part of Milo’s and my day.”

*   *   *

Tori was nearly to the road when Margaret Louise caught up, her labored huffing and puffing nearly drowning out her pleas for Tori to wait.

“Margaret Louise?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“I—I’m . . . fine . . . you just walk fast . . . is all.” The woman leaned against a nearby tree and took a moment to catch her breath, wiping a few droplets of sweat from her brow as she did. “I . . . I wanted to thank you for . . . what you said back there.”

“What I said?”

Margaret Louise gave a long, slow nod. “About Leona.”

“I said what I feel, Margaret Louise. Because Leona is my friend. She always will be.”

“She’s lucky to have you, you know.”

She considered her friend’s words then gave the only response she could. “I’m lucky to have her, too. I mean, she tries my patience, sure . . . but I know she’s always there when I need her, and that says something in my book.”

“I wish I could find some of that positive thinkin’ ’bout my twin right now, but I can’t.”

“You really haven’t spoken to her since the circle meeting the other night?” she asked.

Margaret Louise shook her head and puckered her lip as she did. “Not a word. Don’t have nothin’ to say to her ’cept that I’m spittin’ mad. Which I reckon she knows without me sayin’ a gosh darn thing.”

A snap of something that felt a lot like worry started in Tori’s chest and wound its way into the pit of her stomach. Where was Leona? Why hadn’t she returned even one of Tori’s dozen or so calls to date? Was she sulking after the verbal attack she suffered Monday night? Was she deliberately trying to erase anger from everyone’s minds by replacing it with worry?

She supposed anything was possible with Leona. But still, she couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. Leona liked to hear herself talk way too much to just drop off the grid without some sort of dramatic exit.

A vibration against her hip caught her by surprise and she reached into her pocket in the hopes that Leona was finally calling. A check of the Caller ID screen, however, revealed a different name.

“I’m sorry, Margaret Louise, I need to take this. It’s Milo, and I need to bring him up to speed on wedding things,” she said as she paused her hand atop her phone and smiled apologetically at her friend. “I’ll give you a call tonight after I get home from work, okay?”