Marriage Can Be Murder -- Every Wife Has A Story (A Carol and Jim Andrews Baby Boomer Mystery) (7 page)

When Jim and I peeked in the entrance of the Westfair Country Club ballroom, it was organized chaos. And I say that kindly. There were vendors, and people, everywhere.

“We’ll never find Jenny and Mark in this crowd,” I said, scanning the room for familiar faces. “I never realized that so many people in Fairfield County, Connecticut, were planning weddings.”

Jim answered by grabbing my hand and propelling me into the mass of people. “We won’t find them if we just stand here,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

I pulled my husband’s hand to slow him down. “To tell you the truth, after meeting Bob Green and his new…whatever…I’m not sure I’m in the mood for this anymore.”

“You’d better get in the mood right away, Carol,” said Jim. “Jenny and Mark are headed this way.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “Meeting Bob and whatshername was rough, but we’re here for our daughter. And the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with.”

Jim was right, of course. When did he get so smart?

“Isn’t this fabulous?” asked my darling daughter, giving Jim and me big smooches. “I never thought there’d be so many wedding options under one roof. We’ll be able to get all the details finalized today. I want you to come with me to meet Tiffani Blake, the wedding planner. She’s fabulous. You’ll just love her. She had to run to the lobby a few minutes ago to meet someone. I’m sure she’ll be right back.”

I couldn’t look at Jim. I knew what his reaction was. In fact, it was identical to mine. But there was no way to get out of this situation.

“Thanks for coming,” said Mark, giving Jim a hearty handshake. “I’m a little out of my element here. I’m glad for the moral support.”

“Tell you what, Mark,” said Jim. “Why don’t we let Jenny and Carol get started with the wedding planner, and we’ll head off to the bar. I noticed on the way in that they’re offering free tastings of champagne. And the women really don’t need our opinions right now, anyway.”

“Sounds fine to me,” said Mark, his relief at being spared looking at flowers and wedding favors evident on his face. “Unless Jenny has some objection.”

“You go ahead with Dad,” Jenny said, giving her fiancé a loving look. “I think he’s the one who’s feeling overwhelmed right now.”

“Traitor,” I mouthed to Jim as he and his son-in-law-to-be beat a hasty retreat toward the bar. I could have used a champagne sample, or two, myself, at that exact moment.

“Here comes Tiffani now, Mom,” Jenny said, waving at a woman wearing the telltale Cinderella pink blazer who was headed our way. The same woman Jim and I had caught making out with Bob the Blob just a few minutes before.

In that split second, I thought of Humphrey Bogart in
Casablanca
, when he catches sight of his old flame, Ingrid Bergman, after a long absence. Remember? “Of all the gin joints in the world, you had to walk into mine.”

No way was I going to allow Tiffani’s sordid private life affect my daughter’s wedding. So I pasted a big smile on my face. And shook my head slightly, hoping Tiffani was smart enough to catch on to the message I was sending her.

I’m not saying anything, you bimbo. And you won’t, either, if you know what’s good for you.

Tiffani’s eyes widened as she realized what was going on (I wondered briefly how hard that was for someone who’d had a nip and tuck), then matched my broad smile with one that was equally phony and said, “You must be Jenny’s mother. I can certainly see the family resemblance. Although you look young enough to pass for Jenny’s sister.”

Liar, I thought. Jenny and I look nothing alike. Except for having similar hair color. (As far as my looking young, well, I’m far too modest to comment on that.)

Shape up
, I told myself, echoing Jim’s warning.
This is the person who’s going to be intimately involved in our family until after the wedding. You’d better make an effort to be nice to her. Before she takes your name off the guest list.

“I know we’re going to be great friends,” I said to Tiffani, giving her another toothy smile. Ok, that was stretching it a bit. But if she could stand there and lie to me, I could give it right back.

Fortunately, just this once, Jenny didn’t pick up on the signals Tiffani and I were sending each other. She was much too excited about planning her dream day.

“Cinderella Weddings has a space outside the ballroom for private consultations,” said Tiffani. “It’s fun to be in the middle of all the excitement, but it takes a quiet space to get the actual planning started. “Why don’t you both follow me?” she said, talking over her shoulder to us as we navigated through the crowd. “We’re headed to the Rendezvous Lounge, in case we get separated. It’s on the second level.

“Oh, excuse me for bumping into you,” Tiffani said, startled at an unexpected collision with a guest. “I’m so sorry.”

I blinked. Tiffani had no idea how sorry she was going to be.

She had just careened into my best friend, Nancy, a.k.a. The Wronged Wife.

Chapter 10

My husband’s idea of dining out is eating in the yard.

I have a theory that if a person tries hard enough to pretend everything
is
all right, everything will
be
all right. I was about to test that theory, because there was no way I was going to allow a potential cat fight to erupt between Nancy and Tiffani.

“Sweetie,” I said, throwing my arms around Nancy and giving her a big hug. “What a surprise. I had no idea you were coming. Why are you here?”

“The wedding show is open to the public, Carol,” said Nancy in the snippy tone I’ve heard on more than one occasion. “Mary Alice and Claire said I’d be butting in, but I thought you and Jenny would be happy to have me here. After all, I’ve been like a second mother to her. And you know what I’ve been going through lately. I need to be involved in happy things right now.”

She turned her back to me and gave Jenny a kiss on the cheek. “You’re glad to see me, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” said Jenny, returning Nancy’s kiss with one of her own. “Mom was just surprised to see you here. You know how she sometimes speaks before she thinks.”

Moi? Never! Sometimes? Ok, often. So, sue me.

“Don’t worry about bumping into me,” Nancy said to our wedding planner. “It was just as much my fault as it was yours. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She offered her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Nancy Green, a dear friend of the Andrews family.”

Tiffani’s cheeks flamed, just a little. But she recovered herself quickly and started to speak. I, of course, interrupted.

“Nancy, this is Theresa. Am I right?” I asked the wedding planner. “Sometimes I’m not so good at remembering people’s names when I’ve just met them.”

I hoped Tiffani would pick up on my hint.

Jenny looked at me with a question in her eyes, but I plowed right ahead. “I always thought Theresa was such a beautiful name. At one point, when I was expecting Jenny, Jim and I talked about that as a possible name for the baby. But Jim liked the name ‘Jenny’ better.

“I bet I never told you that before, Jenny. Am I right?”

My daughter looked at me like I was crazy. But she figured out that I had a reason for spewing out this nonsense.

“I’m sure I never heard that story before, Mom.”

“For this appointment, ‘Theresa’ will do just fine,” Tiffani said and flashed me a quick smile. “Let’s all head to the Rendezvous Lounge and talk about Jenny and Mark’s wedding.”

You owe me, Tiffani. You’d better be the best wedding planner on the face of the earth. And by the way, don’t you dare tell me to keep my opinions to myself, and just show up at the wedding wearing a beige dress.

Of course, I had no way of knowing whether Tiffani was the best wedding planner on earth, since she was the only one I’d ever met. But she sure impressed the heck out of the three of us. She was unbelievably knowledgeable and professional. There wasn’t a single question any of us had (including Nancy!) that she didn’t have an answer for.

Once she heard that Jenny and Mark wanted to be married on Nantucket, she really went into overdrive. “Nantucket is my very favorite place for a wedding,” she said.

“The island is so beautiful, and there are so many quaint venues to hold the ceremony. I’ve done weddings all over the world, and Nantucket is my number one choice.”

She beamed at Jenny, then turned to me. “Let’s talk budget. What were you thinking, Carol? Or would you prefer that I discuss that with Jenny’s father? Cinderella Weddings has several different plans, and we bill either by the hour or as a flat fee. It all depends on what the bride and groom choose.”

She mentioned an hourly fee that would have stunned a corporate magnate.

I shifted in my chair. “I think a flat fee would work best for us. I’m sure Dad would agree. Jenny, what do you think?”

“Mark and I have talked a lot about this,” she answered. “We’ve both put some money aside to pay for most of the wedding. You and Dad are pretty much off the hook.”

I started to protest, but Jenny interrupted me. (I wonder where she gets that trait from.)

“No, Mom. It’s
our
wedding. And we’re going to pay for as much of it as we can. If we need more help, we’ll ask you. I promise.

“And don’t forget that we have two other people pitching in to help with the expenses. You and Dad are going to have two weddings for the price of one. Mike and Marlee are going to renew their vows at our wedding, so you and Dad’ll be able to see them married. We Skyped about it last night and they’re really excited. Mike is my brother,” Jenny explained to Tiffani, who was looking slightly confused.

“Mark and I will be Marlee and Mike’s witnesses, and they’ll be ours, Mom. How cool is that?”

My eyes brimmed. “Cool isn’t the word for it, Jenny. But what’s Skype?”

Tiffani, Nancy and Jenny started to answer at the same time. “It’s like videoconferencing, Carol,” Nancy said, shaking her head at my lack of technology expertise. “I’ve used it myself for out-of-town real estate clients.”

“Will this work?” I asked Tiffani. “How difficult will it be to plan a wedding for two different couples? Especially since one couple lives in Florida.

“As a matter of fact,” I continued without waiting for an answer, “what about Marlee’s family? We’d certainly have to invite them. And we don’t even know where they live.”

“No worries, Mom,” Jenny replied. “Marlee’s not in touch with her family at all. I gather there was some sort of falling out years ago, but she hasn’t given me any details. All she said is that she doesn’t want anyone from her family invited to the wedding.”

That was good news. I guess. But mysterious, too. I filed that tidbit away to think about later.

Tiffani was making rapid notes on her tablet computer. “I want to be clear about this. We’re talking about two couples being married in the same ceremony. On Nantucket. Do you have a date in mind, Jenny? It’s September now. Summer weddings on Nantucket are lovely.”

Jim would like that. Especially if the ceremony was on the beach. No tux, remember?

“We don’t want to wait that long,” Jenny said. “We’d like to be married the beginning of December, during the Nantucket Stroll Weekend. Our marriage will be the only gift we’ll give each other for Christmas. And the only one we need.”