“Mom, don't be a Gloomy Gus. How did they find out about us, anyway?”
“Online. Where everyone finds out about everything. Oh Lord, I must be out of my mind. I'll call the wedding planner right back and say that something came up andâ”
Louise made to rise, but Isobel gently pushed her mother back into the seat. “Mom,” she said, leaning down and looking her squarely in the eye, “you'll do no such thing. Come on, where's that fighting spirit, that gung ho attitude? Where's that devil-may-care woman I know so well?”
“Gung ho?” Louise couldn't help but smile. “Devil-may-care? Are you feeling all right?”
“Of course. I'm just trying to encourage you. And I'll be here to help every step of the way, don't forget that.”
And she would, Louise thought. Isobel was a person of her word. “Are you sure I turned lavender? Not sickly mint or icky puce? Not disgusting pea soup?”
“You like pea soup,” Isobel pointed out. “Especially when it has ham in it.”
“Answer the question.”
“Periwinkle!” Isobel cried. “That's the word I was looking for. You turned periwinkle.”
“Periwinkle?” Louise felt her stomach drop heavily into her lower intestines. “Crap,” she said. “What disaster did I get us into?”
Isobel squeezed her mother's shoulders. “It'll all be okay, Mom. I have a feeling our lives are about to change in ways we never even dreamed possible. Isn't it exciting!”
Louise managed a pathetic smile. “That's one word for it,” she said.