Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (14 page)

Melinda studied me for a moment. "Ted’s a lot like his father."

I licked frosting off my fingers and said, "Oh?"

Melinda waved a hand. "Oh Jim was hard on him. Too hard, sometimes. But Ted adored him." She smiled at my skeptical look. "Yes, I know what he says about his father, but part of that is because of guilt."

I put down my cupcake. "For what?"

Melinda used a napkin to wipe frosting off my nose. "Ted was in Afghanistan when Jim died. He was on a mission so he didn’t learn about Jim’s death until weeks later."

I put my hand over my heart. "Oh, poor Ted."

Melinda nodded. "He blamed himself for not being there for me, for us." She shrugged. "But we knew it was part of the life. The separation, missing things." She smiled and smoothed back my hair. "Thank God that’s behind him now. You won’t have to endure it, and I’m glad about that."

For a moment I imagined Melinda back then — a military wife with small children and a husband overseas. The loneliness, the yearning, and the fear. "That must’ve been hard for you. All those years?"

Melinda fluttered her hand. "What I mean about Ted being like his father — he’s one and done." I tilted my head, not understanding what she meant. Melinda blushed. "What I’m trying to say Scotti is that you’re Ted’s one. Just like I was Jim’s."

Those few words touched me to my soul. "I am?"

She took my hand and said, "I know I was hard on you at first. But it was so obvious how he felt about you." She took a napkin and daubed my tears. "It was never Ingrid. It was never anyone else. Only you." She grinned. "I just needed to know that he was your one too."

I twisted my engagement ring and smiled. "And when did you figure that out?"

Melinda shrugged. "I’m not sure. The little things about you just started to add up — how happy you were to help, to cook, hiring Matt to help you with your business. Then that cake you made for Tom and Ginny and the way you were with the girls that day. I could see what a good heart you have." She blushed. "At the anniversary party, I watched you with Ted when you didn’t know anyone was looking. You were so sweet together. Later when we were around the table, everybody talking at once, passing food, clanging silverware — the usual pandemonium." She squeezed my hand. "You looked at him, just for second, like you were the luckiest woman in the world. That’s when I knew for sure."

"I feel like I am the luckiest woman in the world." I took her hand and said, "I promise you, I love Ted more than anything. And all I want to do is make him happy."

Melinda rolled her eyes and twittered. "Look at us being such sob sisters. Drink your tea. You need your beauty sleep if you’re going to marry my son tomorrow ."

<<>>

The next morning, when the girls stumbled into the kitchen, I had glasses of my secret hangover cocktail in tumblers waiting for them. Then Melinda fed them toast, home fries and pancakes. While we ate we passed around my phone and howled over the drunken bridesmaid pictures.

After breakfast, we had a quick fashion show of the girls in their dresses. They were beautiful and I cried. I couldn’t believe they’d found so many matching dresses. Then Zelda smacked me upside the head and told me Melinda had them custom made to compliment my wedding dress. Then I cried again — because, you know, hormones and wedding day jitters.

After the fashion show, the party was officially over. The dresses were returned to their garment bags and left in Zelda’s custody to be transported to Melinda’s for the wedding that evening. The girls changed back into their jeans and tee shirts, then blowing kisses and waving goodbye, deserted me.

Before she left, Melinda said, "Zelda promise me you’ll have Scotti at the house by four. We don’t want her to be late to her own wedding, do we?"

Zelda nodded. "No problem Melinda, I can take her if she tries anything cute."

Melinda nodded, blew me a kiss and said, "I have to run, if I don’t get there before they deliver that ice sculpture it’ll be a disaster."

I stared at Zelda. "Ice sculpture?" I clutched her hand. "Do you think she ordered swans and doves too?"

Zelda cackled. "God, I hope so."

When we got to Melinda’s it was a madhouse; catering trucks, florists, furniture rentals, event workers — if there was an industry involved in weddings, it was represented. Dressed in sweats and hot rollers, Melinda had a phone stuck to her ear. "No, we don’t have enough chairs. I ordered one hundred and twenty-five and I have one hundred and eleven. Well, that’s not my problem. I don’t care what you have to do, get me those chairs." She ended the call. "The nerve."

I made a little finger wave. "Hi."

Melinda smiled briefly, then grabbed a pimply-faced kid in an rental company uniform passing by. "You, go to the jeep in the driveway and start unpacking. Carefully." She held up a finger. "Very carefully. Do you understand?"

The kid gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma’am."

Melinda pointed to Zelda. "Don’t just stand there, show him where the jeep is parked."

Zelda raised her eyebrows at me then led the guy outside. Melinda hugged me then whisked me up the stairs. "You, young lady are late. But we’ll make you the most beautiful bride that ever lived."

"Melinda, you’re scaring me."

"I know darling, but you’ll get used to it." She opened the door to the guest room and nudged me inside. "I’ll see you in a little while."

Four women charged with the mission of making me the most beautiful bride in history stared at me with determination. I recoiled. "Hi."

Those ladies wasted no time in working me like a side of beef that needed to be chopped, separated and packaged. First a twenty-minute massage to relax me. Followed by an ice cold shower to brighten the skin. While I received a seaweed and aloe facial, I got manicured and pedicured. Someone fed me mineral water through a straw while she murmured, "Think peaceful, cleansing thoughts."

Once the cucumber slices were off my eyes and the facial gook rinsed off my face, I spotted Zelda smirking at me. "Damn this bride thing has it’s perks."

"Are the dresses here?"

"Yeah, in the other room."

"Is everyone getting ready?" She nodded. "Except you?"

She smacked her forehead. "I knew I was forgetting something. Be back later."

I leaned out of my chair. "Bring me a cookie?."

The facialist pushed me back and shook her head sternly. "No food. Mineral water. You get married, then you eat."

Zelda chuckled. "Good luck, roomie."

"No Zee, don’t leave me."

Satisfied, they’d whipped my body into shape, the facialist and masseuse left me in the hands of the stylist and makeup artist.

The hair stylist, a tall flashy redhead, grabbed up a handful of my hair and frowned. "Are we sticking with the curls?"

"Yes."

The makeup lady, a stern Vietnamese lady with delicate hands, said, "No talking."

The stylist looped a curl around her finger and studied it. "Because I could flat iron these corkscrews in no time."

Sure, I wanted to look just like Ingrid on my wedding day. "No," I mumbled out of the side of my mouth. "Curls, definitely curls. A simple up-do."

The stylist wrinkled her nose. "How about a French braid, that’s very popular for weddings."

I yanked my head. "No!"

The makeup lady who was plucking my eyebrows said, "No talking."

I covered my eyebrow with my hand. "Go easy on the tweezing – I don’t want to be surprise-bride."

The makeup lady put down her tweezers and stared at my mouth. "We must wax upper lip."

I jumped out of my chair and flapped my arms at them. "No, no, no and no." They stared blankly. I pointed at the makeup lady and said, "No waxing or plucking. Just nice, simple makeup. I’m not the bride of Frankenstein. Okay?"

Then I turned on the stylist. "And when I say curls. I mean curls. I don’t mean maybe curls or not curls at all. I mean curls. A simple up-do with my curls tumbling down. Got it?"

The stylist nodded. "May I ask if you’re wearing a veil?"

"No veil. One rose in the hair. That is all."

Melinda ducked into the room — stunning with her hair in soft waves and subtle makeup that brought out her eyes and cheekbones. The periwinkle Chanel suit she’d chosen fit her perfectly. She looked like the one who should be getting married. "How are we doing ladies?"

I tried to see past the hands buzzing around my head. "Where’s my dress? Where’s Zelda?"

Zelda swept into the room with my dress in a garment bag. "Chill out drama queen, I’m right here."

Stunned, I stared at her. "Zee, look how pretty you are. Does everybody look this great? Except for me, because I look like a freak show."

Zelda laid garment bag gently on the bed, then put her hand on my shoulder. "Breathe, hon. You’re doing fine."

Melinda smiled and went to the door. "I’ll be back in a little while."

Despite my wincing and asking Zelda every thirty seconds how I looked, the makeup lady and the hair stylist finished quickly. Frazzled, they wished me luck and left.

Zelda unzipped the garment bag, slid out my dress carefully and held it up. "Ready?" Thrumming with nerves, I stepped into the dress, terrified it wouldn’t fit. But Zelda buttoned me up and smoothed down the hem without any seams ripping. She helped me into my shoes and said, "Okay. You’re officially a bride to be."

The dress was my something old. The sapphire earrings from Melinda my something blue. My something new was the garter belt from the shower. I frowned. "I don’t have something borrowed."

Zelda grinned and winked. "I knew you’d forget something. Getting married really eats up those brain cells, don’t it?"

I sighed. "I know you’re trying to make me laugh but it’s not working."

"Okay Grumpy McGrumperson, turn around." I bit my lip and winced. Zelda rotated her finger. "Turn around."

I sighed and turned around, hoping it wasn’t some kind of practical joke. Then Zelda draped a pendant around my neck and clasped it at the back. In all the world there was one possession Zelda had that came from her family — her Gram’s cameo. Strung on a simple gold chain the pale peach pendant was the perfect compliment to my wedding dress. Tears welled in my carefully made-up eyes. "Oh Zee, I can’t."

"Just shut up and say thank you." She turned me around to face the mirror. "Looks good. You look good. You’re one beautiful bride, roomie."

It was a miracle, but she was right. I looked good. I looked the way I wanted to look. We stood shoulder to shoulder admiring our reflections probably because we knew we’d never look that good again. "We did it."

"Yup."

Melinda came through the door and stopped when she saw me. With her hand to her heart she said, "Scotti, you really are the most beautiful bride in the world." She took my hands and studied me. "Poor Ted doesn’t have a chance now."

A soft rap sounded at the door. "Father of the bride has come a-callin’." Joe opened the door and stepped inside looking like a million bucks in a dark navy tux — bowtie and all.

I fanned my face with my hand. "Well Joe Enders if you don’t look like a bona fide dreamboat, I don’t know who does."

Joe blushed. "Oh, go on."

<<>>

The wedding was staged in the backyard. The ceremony in Melinda’s rose garden, under a wedding pergola, strung with string lights and flanked by urns of white and lavender roses. White chairs were fanned in a semi-circle for guests, with a white linen runner going up the center to mark the aisle.

On the other side of the yard, a tented reception hall was set up with tables, chairs, a dance floor and bar. Already, waiters were finalizing the buffet and I could see the top of my wedding cake displayed at the front of the room. I was in awe of Melinda, whose talent for resources made Ted look like an amateur.

Zelda, Joe and I, sheltered in the library, and peeked through the French doors, as groomsmen and bridesmaids walked up the aisle to music provided by a string quartet. I couldn’t get a look at Ted without showing myself. "How does he look?"

Zelda poked her head out the French doors and said, "Good enough to marry."

I huddled behind her and whispered, "No, I mean does he look nervous?"

The music cued Zelda, and she eased me away from the door. "See you up there."

Steve appeared at the French doors and offered his arm. "Let’s get this party started."

Zelda took his arm, gave me a thumbs up, and they started slowly up the aisle.

Joe grinned at me and offered me his arm. "You ready to get hitched, Miss Scotti?"

I nodded, trying not to cry and ruin my makeup. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

The music cued us, and we stepped outside. Murmurs rose and fabric rustled as people stood. Cameras clicked as I looked into a sea of smiles and blushed at the attention. Clutching Joe’s arm, I hoped my trembling legs would get me to the altar before I tripped. Then I saw Ted. Tall and handsome in his charcoal tux, beaming the smile that belonged to only me and everything was okay. All I wanted was to marry the man I loved, and nothing else mattered. When we reached the altar, Joe kissed my cheek, and offered my hand to Ted. "She’s all yours now."