Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom (4 page)

“What do you recommend
for the lovelorn, Jen?” I asked, turning my attention back to my
assistant. I gave her a playful poke. I expected her to tell me
Kenny and I should spend more time together here at the inn and
take some trips, so her answer took me by surprise.

“If you start hanging
out with brides, some of that romance is bound to rub off on
you.”

“Being around women in
white gowns will do the trick?” I was amused by the notion. “You
think so?”

“I do.” She paused
briefly, caught her own words, and tittered. “Hmm,
‘I do.’
Gee,
maybe I can help you with some subliminal messaging and
neurolinguistics.”

“Subliminal messaging?”
I laughed. “Neurolinguistics?”

“Yes, I’ve been
studying these in psychology, part of a unit on the influential
effects of direct advertising on social media. We can try it on
Captain Peacock, too. You know...to get him in the mood for
marriage.”

“Oh, give me strength,
dear Lord.” I replied, rolling my eyes dramatically towards the
heavens as I put my hands together and made my verbal plea.
“Clearly she tests my patience.”

“Maybe that’s the
problem, Miz Scarlet. You’ve been a little too patient for too
long.
I do
think you should consider mingling with the
marriage-minded.
I do
think you should encourage Kenny
to....”

I cut her off with a
good-natured warning. “Well,
I
do
think you should just give it a
rest, smarty pants!”

“
I do
agree with you, Miz Scarlet!
I do
think I
will now mind my own business, because
I do
want Captain Peacock to
propose to you sometime in this century. After all, it’s only right
that you, as my elder, should marry before
I do
.”

“You are absolutely
incorrigible!”

“I know. It’s all part
of my elfin charm,” she grinned mischievously.

“Elfin charm indeed!
We’ll see how long that lasts when the wrinkles start cracking that
lovely porcelain skin of yours and you turn into an ancient crone.
Now, let’s get back to reality. I’ve got some dinner to make,” I
announced, crossing the dining room on my way to the
kitchen.

“Are the Johnsons
dining in tonight?”

“Yes, and so are
Florence Vinson and Dr. Van Zandt. The Wilkies won’t be joining us.
They have a reservation at Villa Maria. Oh, could you please make
sure we have a couple of bottles of white Bordeaux chilling in the
wine fridge?”

“Okey-dokey,” she
promised, pulling out the tablecloth and napkins.

“Hello, hello!” Cousin
Lacey entered from the hallway. “I bring greetings from the
handsome heartthrob you call Kenny. I ran into him at the gas
station and he asked me to tell you he’ll pick you up at quarter
after seven because the movie starts at eight.”

“Shoot. I thought we
were going to the later showing tonight.”

“What are you seeing?”
Lacey wanted to know.

“
On the
Job
. Kenny’s wanted to see it for
a while.”

“Is that the new
Jefferson Cornwall thriller? I heard it’s a nail
biter.”

“Ugh...just what I
need...a ‘cops versus creeps’ flick,” I groaned. “Whatever happened
to a good romantic comedy?”

“Miz Scarlet doesn’t
get it,” the senior citizen told the teenager, her tone
conspiratorial. “I swear she’s as dull as ditchwater when it comes
to the opposite sex. Shall we tell her?”

“I thought the
expression was ‘dishwater’.” Jenny seemed rather puzzled. “At least
that’s what my mother used to say.”

“No, my young friend,
it’s an old British idiom,” Lacey announced with the confidence of
a woman who spent many an evening watching those PBS
imports.

“But,” Jenny protested,
“I really think the word is dishwater.”

“No buts about it.”
Lacey shook her head adamantly. “The expression is ‘dull as
ditchwater’. You see, when a ditch is dug and fills up, you usually
get that dull-looking muddy water. Hence....”

“But dishwater is dull,
too. Lots of suds and by the time you’re done scrubbing, you can’t
see the bottom of the sink.”

“You’re both correct,”
I stepped in to mediate. “In Britain, it’s ditchwater; and here in
America, it’s dishwater.”

“Oh, I find that hard
to believe,” the devoted fan of
Downton Abbey
sniffed. “I’d
have to see that in writing.”

“Alas,” I held out my
Smartphone and showed her my search screen, “here it ‘tis, milady,
in black and white.”

“Well, the point is
we’re right about you being dull
as...nay...
thick as a
brick
when it comes to romance.”
Lacey turned to Jenny to confirm the appropriateness of her idiom
and got a nod.

“Brick works for me,”
the teen agreed, perhaps a little too
enthusiastically.

“Should we tell her
what she’s missing when she cringes at the thought of going to a
‘shoot ‘em up’ movie with the adorable, handsome hunk, better known
as Kenny?”

“We should.” I saw that
impertinent young woman’s eyes twinkle as she turned to me. “You’re
supposed to cling to him during the scary parts, so that you get to
snorgle on the ride home.”

“What?”I replied
blankly. Even Lacey looked at the girl with a quizzical
expression.

“You know, snorgle. You
grab him and bring your lips up to his....”

The senior citizen
corrected her again. “I think you mean snog, dearie. I’ve never
heard of snorgle as a verb.”

“Snorgle, snog!” I
reproved them, appalled that they felt compelled to discuss my
intimate relationship with Captain Peacock. “I think you’re both
crackers!”

“And she wonders why
she’s not married yet,” said Lacey as she pursed her
lips
.
“Tsk-tsk-tsk. She’s too proud to lean on a man
because she’s a strong, modern woman. I say any time you can get a
man to pay attention to you, that’s an opportunity to open the door
to romance.”

“It’s not about being
weak or helpless, Miz Scarlet,” my assistance explained. “It’s
about being physically close. You don’t want to appear too
stand-offish....”

“If you two are done
dispensing romantic advice, I think I’ll get on with my
work.”

“See that?” Lacey
pointed right at me. “Her nose is out of joint because she thinks
she’s supposed to be more like a man. She probably challenges Kenny
to a couple of rounds of arm-wrestling when they go out, to see
who’s going to pick up the tab. Yes, every man wants a female
buddy, a fishing pal, someone to go Dutch treat with on their
dates. They probably toss a coin to determine who’s going to make
the first move.”

“Don’t you have
somewhere to be?” I slipped on my most disapproving face, the one I
mastered back when I first started teaching high school and I
wanted my students to know they were skating on thin
ice.
Take that,
madam.

“Ever notice how snippy
Miz Scarlet gets when people try to help?” Lacey gave Jenny a
little poke of her elbow. “Rather like that prim, proper schoolmarm
on
Little House on the
Prairie
. What was her name
again?”

“Are you suggesting I,
in any way, resemble Miss Beadle?”

“If the crinoline
fits....” said the woman with the sly grin. I caught her wink out
of the corner of my eye and realized this was part of her strategy.
She was playing me for all it was worth. If I was clueless about
romance, the Googins girls and their cohort would have free reign
with the wedding business.
Over
my dead body.

“I give up. You
win.”

“It’s a start, but
you’ll need to come to me for lessons in the art of catching a man.
Isn’t that right, Jenny?”

“I could probably tutor
her on the opposite sex.” Spoken with the naive bravado of the
under twenty. “I don’t think she has a lot of experience in dating
men.”

I ignored them both,
needing to change the subject. “Jen, if Kenny’s picking me up
early, is there any chance you could....”

“...Finish the clean-up
after dinner?” The teenager grinned. “It will be my
pleasure.”

“Speaking of that, what
is for dinner?” Lacey wanted to know.

“Not oysters, if that’s
what you’re going to suggest,” I replied drily. “Let me guess. You
had a busy day chasing men.”

“No, I just got done
with an hour of synchronized swimming with the Red Hot
Mamas.”

“That sounds like
fun.”

“Maybe it is for the
participants; probably not so much for the spectators. We’re a
bunch of women over sixty five in spandex swimsuits and red bathing
caps. Quite a sight, especially when we all wave our jiggling arms
above our heads at the same time. I fear we look like a pod of
whales doing a water ballet in the deep.”

The visual image of so
many older women bouncing up and down in the local high school
swimming pool made me laugh. I had to give Lacey credit for keeping
active. She wasn’t about to surrender to age without a
fight.

“We’re having pork
tenderloin with a bourbon reduction, green beans, garlic mashed
potatoes, and strawberry shortcake.”

“I’m so hungry, I could
eat a horse, but I’ll settle for some crackers and cheese to tide
me over until dinner is ready. Where’s Laurel? It’s high time I
poured us a couple of dry martinis. It is Saturday night, after
all.”

I gazed over her
shoulder, down the long hallway, to the living room. The TV was on
and that could only mean one thing. My mother was watching the
news.

“I believe she’s
already opened the can of cocktail peanuts in anticipation of your
arrival. I’ll have the cheese and crackers ready momentarily.” This
was the usual Googins girls’ weekend routine, unless they were
dining out. With a nod, Lacey turned and sauntered off in the
direction of the living room. I noticed Jenny studying
me.

“Is that what you’re
wearing tonight for your date with Captain Peacock?” she wanted to
know.

“What’s your point,
toots?”

“You could put a little
more effort into convincing Kenny to seal the deal. I mean, it’s
not like you’re getting any younger. I’d kind of like to have a
sibling of sorts before I have kids of my own.”

“You’re lucky I like
you. If I didn’t, I’d give you the old heave-ho, right off the gang
plank.”

“Oh, pirate talk.
Shiver me timbers, you’ve got me shaking in my
boots.”

“Very amusing in a
Johnny Depp sort of way. Let me guess --
Pirates of the Caribbean
is yet again making the rounds of the late
night TV rerun circuit.”

“Can’t fool you, can
I?”

“Not likely, matey,” I
laughed. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and take that cheese
platter into the Googins girls? And while you’re in there, can you
make sure we have enough ice in the bucket? I think I just heard
the Johnsons come in.”

By the time six o’clock
rolled around, the crowd was gathered in the living room, cocktails
in hand, awaiting the summons to the dining room for dinner. It was
a genial group that sat down to eat a short time later. Just after
seven, as Jenny poured coffee and the guests dug into flaky
biscuits topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, I
excused myself to get ready for my date.

Rushing upstairs, I
grabbed my purse from my bed and started out the door, but that
little voice of doubt stopped me in my tracks.
Would it kill you to change your blouse and
throw on something other than sneakers, Scarlet Wilson?
With a sigh of surrender, I removed the
oh-so-practical, white cotton short-sleeved shirt I was wearing and
yanked open the closet door. Staring at the clothing hanging there,
I tried to make up my mind. Did I want to come off as dark and
dangerous or attractive and approachable? Maybe a little of both, I
decided. I pulled out a lacy turquoise top and kicked off my New
Balance shoes in favor of a pair of leopard print
flats.