Page 46 of Fathers of the Bride

“Well, why didn’t she tell us that?”

“She’s worried we’ll spend too much money.”

“That’s sweet of her, but she shouldn’t worry about that.”

“Iknow. I think we should give her the wedding she deserves,” I said. I’d opened the refrigerator and began picking at a roast chicken I’d made for the night before.

“Yes, that’s obvious,” Andy said.

“We should have a band rather than a DJ.”

“And a string quartet to play as Kelly walks down the aisle,” he suggested.

“Oh, yes, absolutely. And for flowers, absolutely nothing in season. Only peony, orchids, and lilacs.”

“Caviar,” Andy suggested. “Remember those blue corn silver dollar pancakes you used to make with caviar, lemon zest, and sour cream. I always loved those”

“Oh yes, we’ll have those. And pounds of white stilton for people to spread on crostini.” I knew a place where I could get it for just under four hundred dollars a pound. Maybe a five-pound wheel? Two thousand on cheese alone, that would show the Lincoln-Collinses what a ‘dinky’ wedding could be.

“A chocolate fountain or champagne fountain?”

“Oh, chocolate. Italian chocolate probably. I think we should stick with American sparkling wine, though. But maybe we should get enough that people can take a bottle home with them.”

“That would be nice.”

“There’s one I like called Sex.”

“I like sex.”

“Shush. It’s a sparkling pink.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Oh, this is so much better. We’re going to have so much—”

“Daddy, what are you doing?”

I turned around and there were Kelly and Avery. I was practically standing in the refrigerator phone in one hand, chicken leg in the other.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “You just drove off.”

“I forgot my wallet,” Avery said, holding it up as proof.

“And I should have asked if you wanted anything while we’re out,” Kelly added.

“Gotta go.” I said to Andy and clicked off, getting chicken fat all over my screen. Shutting the refrigerator door, I smiled at them.

“Who was that?” Kelly asked.

“It was Papa. We were talking about money. We’re doing fabulously well, by the way. We just have scads of money. Oodles.”

She frowned at me and said, “Okay.”

“We could buy anything, anything we want. Anything. I mean, not an island or a small town but just about anything else.”

“That’s nice,” my daughter said, doubtfully.

“We were thinking of taking you to dinner,” Avery said, then he joked, “But… maybe you should take us.”