Page 81 of Save the Date
This was news to Cara. And not happy news.
“Um, well, I think that was the plan. Isn’t that the plan?” Layne asked Cara.
Uh-oh,Cara thought. Once again, Patricia Trapnell had managed an end run around her.
“When I set up the tasting with Layne today, I was under the impression that it was just going to be the bride and groom and mother of the bride.” Cara chose her words carefully.
The door opened again, and Brooke Trapnell rushed in, a tall strawberry-blond man right behind. “Hi everybody. Sorry to be late!”
Brooke Trapnell wore pearls, white running shoes, and a crisp seersucker power suit, straight out of a Brooks Brothers catalogue. Her fiancé was dressed more casually, in khakis and a blue button-down dress shirt.
Marie gave her daughter an exasperated hug. “I was afraid you weren’t coming.”
“I tried, Marie,” Brooke’s fiancé said ruefully. “I even fibbed and told her we were supposed to be here half an hour earlier.…”
“Sweet boy!” Marie Trapnell beamed her approval, then kissed him on the cheek and turned to Cara.
“Cara Kryzik, this is my future son-in-law, Harris Strayhorn.”
“Hey there.” Harris’s handshake was firm, his smile genuine. He looked a lot like his mother, with fair hair, blue eyes, and the same ruddy complexion. But he was half a head taller than Brooke, long-limbed and gangly, like a colt whose legs had outgrown the rest of his body.
Harris’s eyes widened as he took in the food table. “Oh man, is that all for us? Awesome!” He turned to Brooke, tugging at her sleeve. “Honey, check out this spread!”
Brooke laughed. “He is always hungry. Always. You wouldn’t believe he just came from a breakfast meeting, right?”
“I happen to enjoy good food,” Harris said. “Is that a crime?”
“It’s a good thing you know how to cook,” Marie said. “Because if it’s up to Brooke, you might starve to death.”
“That’s not true. I can fix oatmeal, and scrambled eggs, and grits, of course,” Brooke protested.
“Do you ever eat any of that yourself?” Layne asked dubiously, taking in the bride’s slender figure.
“No,” Marie said, frowning now at the way Brooke’s jacket hung loosely from her shoulders.
“I eat,” Brooke said.
Harris raised one eyebrow. “What? What have you eaten today?”
“Well… nothing, but that’s just because I knew we would be pigging out at this tasting, and I didn’t want to spoil my appetite.”
“She has no appetite,” Marie said flatly. “Except for work.”
“And me,” Harris said, wrapping an arm around his fiancée’s waist.
Obviously ready to change the subject, Brooke pointed at the food table. “Okay so can we get started? This all looks great, but I’ve got a two-o’clock meeting back at the office.”
Layne gave Cara a questioning glance.
“Yes. Let’s go ahead and start tasting and comparing notes,” Cara said. “I gather we’re expecting Gordon and Patricia to join us, but I don’t want to hold you two up.”
Brooke had picked up a slice of roast beef from the carving station, but she dropped the fork now, with a clatter.
“Mom?” She stared at Marie. “You didn’t tell me Dad and Patricia were coming.”
“I didn’t know myself, until just now. It’s fine though. Really. I can deal. Let’s just go ahead and begin.”
Harris stepped over to the table and began loading a plate with food. He popped a shrimp in his mouth and chewed, nodding his head in approval.
