The Room with the Second-Best View (29 page)

Millie stood in the center of the backyard while a pair of delivery men marched past her carrying an eight-foot wedding arch.

“Right over there,” Lorna directed, pointing toward the gazebo. “Set it right up against the opening.”

They did as directed, and she stepped back to inspect it, a finger across her lips. “Millie, what do you think?”

“I think Susan is going to throw a fit.”

“Leave Susan to me. Does it look centered to you?”

Aware that she tread a dangerous path, Millie considered not answering.

She and Albert had been awakened at six thirty by the loud
thump-thump
of a carton being dragged down the stairs. They'd thrown on their robes and exited their bedroom to find Lorna dragging a box through the kitchen door onto the veranda.

Millie glanced in that direction, where no less than eight good-sized boxes had been piled. Would Susan think her complicit in the blatant hijacking of her wedding?

Albert appeared at her side and pressed a coffee mug into her hands. “Want me to toast you a bagel for breakfast?”

“No thanks.” She took the coffee, grateful for something to help clear her mind, but a mass of knots had lodged in her stomach, and she didn't think she could eat a bite.

“A little to the left,” Lorna directed, and the men obeyed. “Perfect. Now, the flower stands will go on each side.”

“What in the world is happening here?”

Millie and Albert turned to find Susan approaching from around the delivery truck, her jaw dangling.

Millie rushed to her side. “I had nothing to do with it. I promise.”

Susan passed her as though in a daze, her gaze fixed on the arch and the two white pillars nearby.

“There you are, Susan dear.” Lorna gathered the stunned young woman into a hug. “Nature has certainly smiled on your big day. The Weather Channel says sunshine all day, hardly any wind, and low seventies. Perfect for an outdoor wedding.”

“I can't believe it. Justin said I'd slide down a slippery slope, but I didn't. I conceded a few things, true, but I held firm. Not a wedding. Nothing elaborate. Just a simple ceremony.” She turned a bewildered gaze on Lorna. “You did it anyway.”

“Now, my dear.” Lorna took her hand and held it between both of hers. “It's only a few decorations. Just wait until you see the tulle draped across the arch and the flowers sprayed ar—”

“Flowers?” Susan took a backward step. “You ordered flowers?”

“Not real flowers. Silk ones. A wide variety, so you can choose the colors. We'll return the ones we don't use.”

Now Millie understood the multitude of boxes in the Bo Peep room. “You said all those deliveries were wedding gifts.”

“They are.” Lorna patted the hand she still held. “I'm gifting them with a wedding. Oh, and I've got several things to decorate the table as well. Darling little crystal vases and a lace runner.”

Susan whirled on Millie with an accusation. “You said we were having finger food.”

“We are! Little sandwiches and fruit and a relish tray. And I made the wedding cake myself.” Dismayed, Millie looked toward the archway. Her homemade cake would appear pitiful flanked by crystal vases.

She looked around for Albert and found him seated on the veranda, his feet propped up on the railing, sipping coffee and watching them with a wide smile, giving every indication of enjoying the spectacle.

The rumble of a motorcycle reached them, and moments later Justin's Harley roared into view. He cut the engine and kicked down the stand, standing to take his helmet off.

“No, no, no!” Lorna dashed across the yard, flapping her hands like she was shooing chickens. “You can't see the bride before the wedding. It's bad luck.”

“First off, I don't believe in luck.” Justin grinned at Susan. “I believe in love. And second, we don't have to worry about that since we're not having a wedding.” He looked at the arch. “Or are we?”

Susan gave a helpless shrug. “I didn't think so.”

The fingers clutching his helmet turned white. When he spoke to his aunt, it was with an obvious attempt to maintain an even tone. “We've told you over and over what we want for our wedding, but you've fought us at every turn.”

“My boy, I'm only trying to help. Your dear mother allowed me the privilege of helping to plan her wedding, and it was lovely.” She turned to Susan. “Since your poor mother can't be here, I wanted to do the same for you.”

Millie caught the gleam of moisture in Susan's eye, and her heart twisted. How painful it must be for a girl to miss her mother on her wedding day.

Justin seemed unaffected. He answered in the same stern tone. “It's not that we don't appreciate your kindness, but we spent a long time talking about this. We both own busy businesses, and we didn't want to deal with all the stress and expense of a big wedding.”

“But you've had neither.” Lorna threw her hands wide. “I've done it all.”

Turning his back on her, Justin grabbed both of Susan's hands and held them. “Let's go with our original plan. I'll call Reverend Hollister and tell him we'll be at his office at eleven thirty.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Millie found herself unable to watch as the two young people exchanged a deep gaze, silently communicating in the way only couples can. Lorna sucked in a noisy breath and held it.

Finally Susan cast a glance toward the arch in front of the gazebo. Was there a hint of longing in her eyes?

“Since everything's already done,” she said slowly, “there really isn't anything to stress about.”

Lorna released her breath with a delighted exclamation. A knot unwound in Millie's stomach.

Susan turned to Lorna with a fierce gaze. “But promise me one thing. You haven't invited any other guests, have you?”

Lorna placed a hand over her heart. “You have my word.” She hesitated. “Unless you count the photographer, who will be here at ten.”

“All right.” Justin pulled his bride-to-be into an embrace. “I guess we're having a wedding.”

Chapter Twenty

M
illie clipped the stem off of the last creamy silk rose, positioned it in the icing of her cake next to the rest, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Perfect. She indulged in a moment of self-congratulations as she examined the table. Lorna's satin tablecloth and lace runner certainly added a touch of elegance to the already beautiful room. The crystal vases were stunning, and a near-perfect match to the sparkling chandelier. She half-wished she could keep them, but the telltale sticker on the box identified them as part of Waterford's Lismore collection. They must have cost a fortune.

With a final glance, she headed for the bedroom to check on Albert. She found him in the bathroom, struggling with his tie.

“I don't see why I have to wear a suit. It's a backyard wedding, for goodness sake.”

She pushed his hands out of the way and tied it properly. “We're the host and hostess. We can't serve our guests in jeans and T-shirts.”

“When I agreed to buy this house, I never expected to become a server.”

“Stop grumbling.” Stepping back, she smiled at him. “There. You look like the lord of the manor house.”

A frantic barking from the direction of the kitchen interrupted whatever Albert might have answered.

“What's got Rufus so upset?” she asked.

“He probably saw a squirrel through the storm door. We'd better go calm him before he goes through the screen after it.”

Millie followed Al into the kitchen, and they both stopped short when they caught sight of Junior Watson standing on the veranda, peering inside through the back door.

Millie did a double take. Junior had slicked his hair down with a shiny gel and wore a clean button-up shirt beneath his overalls.

Millie hooked Rufus by the collar and dragged him back.

Justin, who had been upstairs dressing for his wedding, appeared behind them. “Junior? What are you doing here?”

“We'uns is here for the weddin', only I ain't sure what to do with my goat.”

The words fell on Millie's ears but failed to make sense. “Your goat?”

“Yes'm,” he said through the screen. “It's kinda skittish around all them dogs.”

“All them—” Millie, Albert, and Justin rushed to the door and crowded each other to look through the screen.

The backyard had undergone a transformation. Not the one that had occurred this morning, with the appearance of the wedding arch and a profusion of billowy tulle, flowers, and white satin bows.

People and animals filled the green grassy area in a crowded jumble. Millie caught sight of Larry Greely and his bird dog, Bella, standing beside Edith Bowling and her Newfie, Boomer. Beneath one large oak, Delores Barnes held her fluffy Arnold, and next to her Mrs. Pennyweather stood with her Siamese. A brown blur raced across the lawn, and Millie identified Benji the Yorkie in hot pursuit of poor Pepe the Chihuahua. Their owners ran after them, the heels of Nina's sandals ripping through the white aisle runner that the bride would soon walk down. The photographer, carrying a giant camera, stood to one side, capturing the chaos on film.

“The paper said to bring a pet.” Junior ducked his head. “I don't really have no pet, so I figgered my goat would do in a pinch.” He looked up at Justin. “I wouldn't miss your wedding to Dr. Susan for anything.”

Justin turned to Millie. “You'd better go warn Susan. I'll get to the bottom of this.”

Millie hurried away.

Al opened the screen door and followed Justin outside.

“No,” he told Rufus, when the creature would have wiggled between his legs. “Stay.”

He received a defiant doggie stare, but at least the animal halted and allowed him to shut the door.

Sure enough, tied with a rope to one of the veranda posts stood a nervous-looking goat, its hooves tapping against the decorative pavers as it kept a cautious eye on Edith's ginormous bearlike dog.

Justin raked fingers through his hair. “You mentioned a paper?”

“Yep. Found it in my mailbox a few days back. Here 'tis.”

Junior pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it over. Al read over Justin's shoulder.

Justin Hinkle and Susan Jeffries

request the honor

of your presence as they celebrate

their marriage on

Saturday, May 27, at 11:30 in the morning.

The wedding will be at

1427 Ash Street,

Goose Creek, Kentucky.

Don't RSVP, but bring your pets.

The invitation had been printed on letterhead from the Goose Creek Animal Clinic.

Justin shook his head. “I don't understand. It's obviously a fake, but feel that.” He handed the paper to Al, who ran a finger across the raised lettering at the top of the page.