Page 103 of Fathers of the Bride

I gasped. “Bite your tongue. We willalwaystake care of you. That’s what parents do.”

“You should spend a little time taking care of each other,” she said. “Shouldn’t you?”

“Your father and I will be fine. You’ll see.”

And then the chocolate fountain arrived which caused my daughter to roll her eyes so hard I was afraid she might have strained them. A terrifying image of her lovely brown eyes crossed in every single wedding photo popped uninvited into my head. I tried to smile anyway.

* * *

By the timeI had to dress for the rehearsal dinner I was exhausted. I had hoped to slip in a nap, but the arrivals were nonstop. A liquor order for that evening was delivered—it was enough for a hundred guests even though the dinner would only be for twenty-five. I hoped the Lincoln-Collinses planned to take the extra home—my liquor cabinet was already full to bursting.

Then the linens for the table arrived, then more gifts. Dermont Dilroy came by with one of his party managers to give the place a final once over before the big day. We had a long, and occasionally contentious, conversation about table placement. And, finally, the liquor order for the wedding was delivered—I swear it was smaller than the order for the rehearsal dinner.

Our future in-laws arrived two hours before dinner with Jeffery and Raj in tow, which now seemed inevitable. Barely in the door, Bradley whined, “I wish we could have done this in Malibu.”

“We will actually rehearse the wedding,” I said. “That part at least had to be here. And it would have been silly to ask everyone to drive all the way out to Malibu.”

“Butwehad to drive all the way in!”

“True,” I said, because it was.

“Oh, what’s a little driving anyway?” Pudge asked. “We’re going to be family.”

That struck me as odd. Normally Pudge was the one complaining.

“It wasn’t a little driving; it was an hour and a half,” Bradley said.

“You can complain later,” Pudge said. “Right now, I have to tell Miles all about the caterer I hired for tonight.”

Ah, that was why she was in a good mood. She found a way to ruin mine. I braced myself. She’s hired a lousy caterer, I was sure of it. They weren’t hard to find. They were everywhere, trendy and awful at the same time.

Last year the trend was to put almost no food on the plate at all. One or two artful little bites. The year before that it was the opposite, serving gigantic piles of food. Who knew what it might be this—

“Food scraps,” Pudge burst out unable to contain herself. “Our genius of a caterer pulled our entire dinner out of dumpsters.”

“I can’t listen to this again,” Bradley said. “It turns my stomach. We sent over some booze. Do you know where it is?”

“Bradley, I’m trying to tell Miles about the caterer.”

“Yes, dear, that’s why I need a drink.”

“It’s just outside the patio door, still in the boxes I’m afraid.”

“Who’s going to unpack it?” Lissa asked.

“Never mind,” Bradley said. “I’ll tear it open barehanded if necessary.”

I decided not to point out that ripping open a cardboard box with one’s bare hands was not exactly challenging. Nor unusual. He couldn’t seriously think—

We watched as he and Terry walked away. Of Lissa, Pudge asked, “Was he like this when you were married to him?”

“Pudge, you lived next door.”

“True. He was, wasn’t he? Why did I fall in love with him? Anyway. As I was saying… our caterer roams the city dumpster-diving. Isn’t that fantastic?”

“Why would you hire someone like that?”

Pudge looked genuinely shocked. “Why, Kelly of course. It’s exactly the kind of thing that appeals to her. Isn’t it? Or did I get that wrong too?”