Wedding Mints and Witnesses

by Kelsey Browning

  “And we have no idea if other people besides the crashers have been targeted. It’s not like we’ve canvassed all the guests at one of these things.”

  “Maybe we should do that,” Maggie suggested. “We could pretend to do wedding guest satisfaction surveys or something.”

  “Dear, I hate to burst your bubble,” Lil said, “but we have a wedding coming up of our own.”

  “We can still pull the next string we have,” Maggie insisted.

  Lil picked up the yellow marker, which made her crave banana pudding. “Looks like that means we need to head into Atlanta to talk with the bakery folks as soon as we can.”

  Maggie grabbed the iPad and poked around on it. By the way her expression melted, she wasn’t happy with whatever information she’d found. “There’s no way we can get there in time today.”

  “Just as well,” Abby Ruth said, rising from her chair. “I doubt one day will make a difference. Right now, I need to get my head right about all this stuff with Jenny. I’m going down to Earlene’s Drinkery. Holler if you need me.” With that, she strode out of the room, and a few seconds later the front door banged closed.

  “Have to say I always thought taking Abby Ruth down a notch or two might be a good thing,” Lil told Maggie, “but I can’t stand seeing her like this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her heart still heavy because Jenny had been true to her word about not talking to her, Abby Ruth glanced up when Teague slid into the booth across from her at Earlene’s Drinkery. He glanced at the plethora of plates scattered across the table. “Couldn’t decide?”

  “I figured this called for wings, nachos, and fried pickles.”

  “Good thing I’m starving.” He pulled a small plate toward him and piled it with all the greasy, fattening food. “Besides, all Jenny’s been able to stomach is that damn pasta. I appreciate you curing her puking, but what I wouldn’t give for a big steak right now.”

  “Gah,” Abby Ruth said. “When I was pregnant with Jenny I couldn’t abide the smell of charred beef.”

  “Pregnancy must suck,” he muttered.

  Once he had his plate filled, a nacho teetering atop enough chicken wings to look like a graveyard, Abby Ruth said, “I need your help. Jenny won’t take my calls. I’ve wanted to come by the house, but my heart breaks at the thought of her slamming the door in my face.”

  Teague licked the sauce off his thumb and sat back. “I’ll be honest. She’s been so upset, I’m not sure she’d answer the door. She feels betrayed.”

  “She wouldn’t listen to my side of the story. Not really. I wish—”

  “Teague Castro!” A strident voice came slicing through the drift of cigarette smoke in the watering hole. “I want to give you a piece of my mind.”

  Abby Ruth looked over to see Winnie—the owner of the Love ’Em or Leave ’Em Florist here in Summer Shoals—hustling across the room toward them as fast as her chubby thighs would carry her. Over the sound of Hank Williams, Jr. wailing from the jukebox, Abby Ruth could hear the scritch scritch of Winnie’s polyester pants rubbing together. With the way she was stalking toward them, it was obvious she was one angry woman.

  “Uh-oh,” Teague said in a low voice.

  “What’s going on?” Abby Ruth noticed Desi Fanning trailing Winnie, her glossy red braid bouncing with each step. Desi owned the local bakery, Icing On The Cake.

  Desi’d had her share of bad times, but that woman always put her best and most hopeful foot forward. Even when her ex-husband had gone half-crazy a while back, she’d found a way to make things work for her and her daughter. Besides, she was an amazing baker, making the best éclairs this side of the Mississippi. Which was only one of the reasons she and Jenny had hit it off the first day they’d met.

  Desi wasn’t as fired up as Winnie, but she didn’t look happy. Her eyes held a sadness and hurt that Abby Ruth recognized immediately.

  Winnie stalked up to the table and plopped an arrangement of some weird tropical flowers and little pink roses down hard enough to shake Teague’s mountain of chicken wings. One teetered and tumbled, but he was dexterous and snagged it before it landed in his lap.

  Then Winnie propped one fist on her round hip and wagged her finger close to his nose. So close that Abby Ruth was surprised he did nothing more than smile up at the florist. “I can’t believe you, Teague Castro. We’ve embraced you as one of our own. Heck, half the time I forget you’re from Texas.” She spit out the word like it was a piece of lint on her tongue. “We elected you as our sheriff, our sworn peace provider, and this is how you repay us? Give him a piece of your mind, Desi.” She pulled the bakery owner around to her side so she stood close to Abby Ruth.

  Desi slid a three-layer cake iced in what appeared to be buttercream frosting onto the table and flashed a crooked, apologetic smile. She wasn’t totally comfortable being here, but it looked as if she had an honest-to-goodness beef with Teague as well. “What Winnie is trying to say is that all the local Summer Shoals business owners are disappointed in how you’re handling your wedding. We’ve heard rumors that you’re bringing in a florist, baker, and caterer from Atlanta.”

  Teague wiped his mouth and set aside his napkin. “Ladies, is it traditional for the groom to make all the decisions about a wedding, or any of the decisions for that matter?”

  “You’re the sheriff,” Winnie said, as if that had a damn thing to do with little pink roses.

  It was time for Abby Ruth to come to her future son-in-law’s defense. “I’m the one you want. I’m in charge of Jenny and Teague’s wedding.” Or at least she had been at one time.

  The way Winnie and Desi goggled at her would’ve been funny if this wedding plan was moving along smoothly, but it was a train wreck all the way around. “You?” Winnie choked out. “You wouldn’t know a daisy from a dandelion.”

  “Wrong,” she said, keeping her voice even. “One has a black center with happy colorful petals. The other one you make a wish on and get mad when someone blows it all over your yard. After all, they’re weeds.” And Sera sometimes made bitter-tasting tea out of them. Blech.

  Winnie’s shoulders dropped, making her abundant bosom land on the tabletop. As if they didn’t already have enough stuff cluttering up the small space. “Then why in the world would you hire people outside Summer Shoals? We’re not backwoods here. We’re more than capable of handling a classy wedding out at Summer Haven.” Her eyes widened with some Winnie-like realization. “Maybe that’s it. Lillian Summer Fairview doesn’t think we’re good enough to throw a party at her home. She’s always been a little stuck up—”

  “This wasn’t Lil’s decision,” Abby Ruth cut in. “It was mine and mine alone.” She really didn’t need to add to Lil’s somewhat uppity reputation in town, especially with Winnie, who was a gossip queen. “My girl’s been living in Boston for a lot of years. I just thought she’d be happier with big-city vendors.”

  And that totally took the wind out of Winnie’s sails. This. This was why weddings were a damn menace. There were lots of rules and expectations, fluffy crap that made no sense, and people got their feelings hurt.

  But she certainly couldn’t explain the real reason she’d hired outside vendors in front of Teague. He’d have a conniption fit if he caught wind of Abby Ruth and the other gals dabbling in more crime solving.

  “Tell you what,” she said brightly. “We haven’t figured out the groom’s cake yet. Desi, why don’t you take care of that?” Looked like she’d be tossing a perfectly good German Chocolate out the window. “And I’d like to be sure Jenny’s bouquet is extra special. Would you handle that for us, Winnie?”

  Winnie’s foot went to tapping, much like Abby Ruth’s did when she was agitated. Darn, that was way more annoying than she’d ever realized. Obviously, her concession to include Winnie in the floral arrangements wasn’t cutting it.

  Winnie said, “It’s not just me and Desi who are heartbroken. Bunches of people just knew they’d be involved when Jenny and Teague fi
nally got around to tying the knot. And when I heard from Angelina Broussard that Jenny was expecting, I assumed my phone would start ringing off the wall for wedding flowers.”

  Abby Ruth restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Most of the time, she loved living in little bitty Summer Shoals, but sometimes she missed being one of several million people in Houston. Anonymity had its benefits.

  Like when she and Red had been seeing each other years ago. Thank goodness no one had been suspicious of the affair when she’d gotten pregnant with Jenny. If they had, she and Red would’ve been found out for sure.

  “Fine,” Abby Ruth said, “what would soothe your pain and suffering?”

  The hollow-eyed greed in Winnie’s face made Abby Ruth wince. Whatever was coming would put a big ol’ dent in her wallet, she had no doubt.

  “My cousin Sharma Lee recently opened a dress shop on the other side of town. She has a lovely assortment of bridal gowns. Dresses for mothers and guests too. As luck would have it, she’s open late on Thursday nights. It’s hard for small businesses to get off the ground. Sure would help if you were to spend a couple thousand dollars in her store.”

  The nacho Abby Ruth had just popped in her mouth caught in the back of her throat. Two. Thousand? Luck wasn’t exactly how she would describe that chunk of change. What was Winnie expecting her to buy—a dress sewn with pure gold thread?

  Teague reached across the table and whacked her on the shoulder, just hard enough so she could swallow the nacho and wheeze out, “Jenny only needs one dress.”

  “Well, when you consider the bridesmaids, the mother of the groom, and the mother of the bride, it does add up.”

  Far as Abby Ruth knew, Jenny didn’t plan on having any attendants. Besides, it wasn’t clear if Abby Ruth herself was still on the guest list. But she said, “I’ll get over to your cousin’s shop as soon as I can get around to it. Can you text me the address?”

  Winnie did a little electric slide around Desi and pulled Abby Ruth out of the booth so fast that she almost ended up on the floor. “No time like the present. Why don’t you go on down there now?”

  With a sly grin on his face, Teague slid Abby Ruth’s half-finished beer over in front of himself. “Don’t worry about these wings, Abby Ruth. I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”

  Yeah, she hoped they gave him a big case of indigestion. Still, she hip-bumped his shoulder as Winnie herded her toward the bar’s front door. “Later, Tadpole.”

  He toasted her with her own beer and took a big drink. He was a smart-ass, but she loved that boy.

  Once they were outside on the sidewalk, Abby Ruth turned to Winnie, “I’ll head over to your cousin’s place right now.” Surely that would satisfy this bulldog of a woman.

  But Winnie just smiled, highlighting the dimples in her rounded face. “Perfect. Then I’ll follow along.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Abby Ruth pressed speed dial to Summer Haven as she walked down the street and whispered into the phone, “Lil, it’s me. Desi and Winnie were down Teague’s throat about not using them for the wedding.” Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “I need y’all to get down here to Sharma Lee’s dress shop and help me pick out dresses to take to Jenny.”

  “We’re in the middle of putting Jenny loves Teague stickers on the bottles of bubbles. Do you know how hard it is to get those things on straight?”

  “No time for that,” she snapped, lifting her arms to cool the sweat pooling under armpits. Winnie was still behind her. Was that woman going to follow her all the way there? “Meet me and bring Maggie with you.”

  “Calm down,” Lil said. “We’re on our way.”

  Abby Ruth entered the shop and was met with a suspicious look from the shop owner. No surprise…dresses weren’t Abby Ruth’s thing, which any woman could see in a hot second. Maybe she should’ve waited until Lil arrived.

  “May I help you?”

  “I need to pick up some wedding dresses for my daughter to try on,” Abby Ruth said.

  “What’s the last name?”

  “It’s the Cady-Castro wedding,” Winnie told her cousin. “Abby Ruth is a little behind on things.”

  “You should have scheduled something. Is your daughter on the way?”

  “No, and we’re trying to keep this a surprise. Bad luck if the groom hears about the dress and all that,” Abby Ruth said.

  “It’s only bad luck if the groom sees the bride-to-be in the gown. We’re very careful about that here.”

  “We can’t take any chances. We’ll pick out a few dresses and take them to her.” Abby Ruth swept a gown to the right on the rack, snickering at the next one. Good Lord, a gal could suffocate in that much chiffon. Made her feel itchy all over just looking at it.

  “That’s not the way we operate here.” Sharma Lee took Abby Ruth by the elbow and hustled her back toward the door.

  Winnie plopped into one of the chairs. “What made me think this was a good idea?”

  Lil and Maggie rushed inside the shop.

  Abby Ruth jerked away from Sharma Lee and turned on her. “Do you want to sell a dress or not? I can certainly go over to Clarksville or Atlanta and pick up dresses. In fact, Atlanta has offered to deliver them too. Right, Lil?”

  Lil’s eyes went wide with a what-have-I-missed expression, but she smiled that society girl smile of hers and said, “Absolutely. Hello, Sharma Lee.”

  Abby Ruth should’ve known Lil would know the dress lady. “She doesn’t want to let us take dresses out of the shop for Jenny to try on. What kind of— ”

  “I can’t believe we hadn’t heard about your new shop,” Lil said in her most patient tone. “You know I’d never want to take my business anywhere but here. But—”

  “I have a full tank of gas. I can go to Atlanta right now,” Abby Ruth added.

  Lil tugged on the peplum of her dress. “Sharma Lee, I hope you can help us with this teensy-weensy favor. You know I’m good for it.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Sharma Lee said as if Lil was the most influential and charming woman in the world. “Now what kind of dress are you looking for? And what size?”

  Abby Ruth stepped forward. “Size six. None of that big poufy stuff either.”

  Lil added. “Traditional, maybe.”

  “Or something kind of modern,” Maggie said. “I could totally see her in something flowing like a Grecian style, or maybe that high-low hemline.”

  “Oh no.” Abby Ruth said. “My daughter is not wearing a mullet bridal gown.”

  “Sounds like you need an assortment of styles. I can show you some of the more popular dresses.”

  Abby Ruth whipped hangers from left to right. Whish whoosh whish whoosh. Suddenly, she stopped and pulled a gown from the rack. A simple flowing skirt with a sleeveless lace-and-beaded bodice. Classic and classy. “This is the one.”

  An hour later, Maggie and Lil were wrestling yards of white fabric into the crew cab of Abby Ruth’s dually. She drove to Jenny and Teague’s, with Maggie and Lil following in Maggie’s truck.

  She parked just out of sight of Jenny’s house. Then she loaded her arms with five dresses and hauled them down the road. Once there, she quietly slipped up to the front porch and hung the gowns on the light, which made it look as if a giant ghost had just taken up residency. Maggie and Lil came trudging up, their arms filled with the last seven dresses.

  “You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you.” Abby Ruth’s palms were clammy as she reached for her friends’ hands. How had she gotten here, where she was worried about how her own daughter would react if she found her standing on this front porch?

  “You’re coming in too, aren’t you?” Maggie asked.

  “No, it would just upset her. She doesn’t want me here. That’s fine. This is her day, and her happiness is all that’s important to me.”

  “She still loves you,” Maggie said. “She’s your daughter, and y’all will get through this.”

  Abby Ruth shuffled down the ste
ps from the porch, then snuck around the corner of the house where she could watch without being seen.

  * * *

  Ding dong. Dingdong. Dingdongdingdongdingdong.

  The doorbell woke Jenny from a fitful dream about wedding flowers with people’s faces where the centers should be. She had to stop snacking on bread-and-butter pickles before lying down on the couch.

  She pulled herself up from the cushions and answered the door. A pile of white satin, charmeuse, chiffon, and organza nearly assaulted her. Sequins scratched at her skin and somehow a bugle bead found its way into her nose.

  “Surprise!” came from somewhere beyond the fluffy fabric.

  “Lil? Is that you?” Jenny pushed the door wide. “What is all this?”

  “We’ve brought wedding dresses for you to try on.”

  “We?” A sizzle crept up Jenny’s spine. Was her mother behind one of these giant heaps of hoop skirts?

  Maggie pushed Lil forward then stumbled in behind her. “Scoot on out of the way, Jenny. We’re coming through. There are more on the porch too.”

  Jenny scrambled back, peeking around the cloud of dresses, thankful there was no sight of her mother in the white cloud. “Where did all these come from?”

  “Sharma Lee’s new dress shop. Your mother can be very persuasive.”

  “Persuasive isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe her.” The words that had been going through Jenny’s mind about her mom lately weren’t nice ones, so she gave Lil a closed-mouth smile. Enough said.

  Lil pulled a thick white book out from under the dresses and pressed it into Jenny’s hands. “We thought you might want this back.”

  The wedding planner felt heavy, kind of like the way her heart had been since she discovered the truth about her father.

  She set it aside while Lil spread the dresses out around the room. Three on the couch. One on each chair, and some hanging off the stair railing.

  “I’d planned to wear a simple dress I picked up in New York last summer. This is overkill.”