Page 112 of Save the Date
“All the time. Who is she?”
“I haven’t even said I’m seeing somebody.”
“You don’t have to. I know the signs when I see ’em. Anyway, good for you. I was almost on the verge of agreeing to let Torie fix you up with one of her girlfriends.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
***
At the end of the day the two brothers climbed into Jack’s truck and steered it back across the Talmadge Memorial Bridge, home to Savannah. Their skin and clothes were coated with a thick dusting of sawdust, their clothes damp with sweat.
They listened to the radio and discussed the plan for the next day’s work.
“Other than not too much going on in the bedroom, how’s everything else going with you guys?” Jack asked.
“Good,” Ryan said. “I promised Torie we could go pick out a crib for the nursery this weekend. Which reminds me, I’ll drive myself tomorrow. I’m supposed to meet her at the doctor’s office at three. We’re going to see an ultrasound of the baby.”
“Cool. So you’ll know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“That’s what they tell me.”
“I got five bucks says it’s a girl,” Jack said.
“That’s what Mom says too,” Ryan said. “I don’t care either way. Boy, girl, just so it’s healthy—and looks like her but has my temperament.”
“I heard that,” Jack said. “Do you guys see much of Torie’s folks?
“Not as much as they’d like. Torie talks to Lillian all the time. I try to keep my distance. Her old man’s all right—but Lillian? What a mouth that woman has on her. Swear to God, she wakes up every day and has a beef with somebody.”
“Like who?” Jack asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“Anybody. Everybody. The dry cleaner who melted a button on her favorite jacket, the neighbor whose cat keeps crapping in her garden. Oh yeah, her current obsession is with some silver piece she claims our wedding florist stole.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. It’s crazy. Remember Cara, from our wedding? Real cute gal. You danced with her at the reception.”
“I think I remember her,” Jack said vaguely.
“Anyway, after the reception was over, Torie’s folks went to the Bahamas for a getaway. When she got back, Cara returned all the silver they used at the reception. Except this one antique doohickey went missing. Apparently it’s pretty old, belonged to her grandmother or somebody. Lillian went ballistic. She went over there, accused Cara of stealing it, called the cops and everything.”
“Wow. That’s pretty radical.”
“Torie told Lillian that Cara wouldn’t do anything like that. You met Cara. She’s no thief. But once Lillian gets something in her head, she’s like a damn bulldog, keeps chewing and tussling, and nobody can call her off.”
“So what happens now? After she called in the cops?”
Ryan shrugged and wiped the sweat from his dust-caked forehead. “Some detective came over to talk to Lillian, then went to see Cara. They’ve talked to the assistant too. And I guess they’re checking pawn shops around town to see if it turns up.”
“But the cops aren’t gonna arrest the florist, right? I mean, they can’t prove she stole the thing, like you said.”
“For all we know, somebody took the damn thing home from the wedding with ’em. You were there, everybody was blitzed. In the meantime, Lillian is bad-mouthing poor Cara all over town.”
“Seems like a shame,” Jack said. “Can’t Torie do anything to calm Lillian down?”
“She’s tried. In fact, they had a big fight over it last weekend. Now Lillian’s not talking to Torie, which is fine by me.”
“In-laws.”
