Page 61 of Save the Date
“No color,” he said, nodding slowly. “Except white. It’s all white and green. And a little bit of yellow.”
“That’s right. I’m around color all day. I love it, but when I get away from work, my eyes need to rest. I find green and white really soothing.”
“Very soothing,” he agreed. “And it feels a lot cooler than I’d expect.”
“That’s the plan.”
He cleared his throat. “I had a call from Libba Strayhorn yesterday. She wants to talk to us about doing some work over at their place in South Carolina. I guess I have you to thank for that.”
“She’s a nice lady, and they’ve had some bad luck with contractors.”
“So I heard. My family’s known Mitch and Libba for a long time, you know. From when they lived in Ardsley Park. Harris was two years behind me in school, and Holly must be in her mid-twenties by now. I’d lost track of them, after they sold the house in town and moved over there full-time.”
“Have you been to Cabin Creek?”
“Not in years, since we were little kids. She said something about fixing up the old barn?”
“That’s right. Their son’s wedding is July sixth, and the hope is that we can have the after-party in the barn.”
He wrinkled his nose. “A wedding? In a barn? In July?”
“They moved the horses to a new stable several years ago, and once they clear out all the junk that’s accumulated there over the years, and you get the roof patched up, it’ll be great,” Cara said.
“Kinda hot.” Jack fanned his face with his hand.
“We’ll bring in air conditioners.”
“Ryan and I are going over there tomorrow to check it out,” he told her.
“Speaking of weddings.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Where were you last night?”
“Last night? I dunno. Home, I guess. We worked late, finishing up at Ryan’s house. Why?”
“I did the flowers for a wedding—and you weren’t there. I thought you went to every wedding in Savannah.”
“Who got married?”
“Emily Braswell and Rob Mabry.”
He shook his head. “Never heard of ’em. They must be new in town.”
“As a matter of fact, her father was just transferred here last year by the Army Corps of Engineers. And the groom is from Macon.”
“Then that explains it. Nice wedding?”
Cara leaned over and picked a dead frond from a fern, crumbling the browning leaf between her fingertips. “It was okay. Bert and I give them about a fifty-fifty chance.”
“Of what?”
“Surviving.” She shrugged, and one of the skinny straps of her tank top slipped off her shoulder. She left it there, and it distracted him for a moment, affording him a tantalizing glimpse of the pale skin of her upper breast.
He looked away, and then back, and by then, she’d adjusted it. Too bad. It was a nice view. Nicer even than all these cool green and white flowers. Now, what had he been about to say? Oh yeah.
“You rate their marriage chances? That seems pretty cynical.”
“You see as many couples as I do, work with as many crazy brides and overbearing moms as me, you’d be cynical too,” she said calmly. “I’ve only been in business for myself two and a half years here, and I can’t tell you how many couples don’t even make it to their first anniversary.”
Poppy stirred, getting to her feet and staring intently at the brick wall running along the back of the courtyard. A squirrel paused there. Shaz saw the squirrel, too, and both the dogs went bounding toward their intended quarry. Instead of scampering away, though, the squirrel held its ground, chattering angrily at the two dogs four feet below, who were now balancing on their hind legs, whimpering and pawing ineffectively at the brick.
