Daughters Of The Bride. Susan Mallery
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But if she said that, David would want to make plans. Wow. She would rather go back to work than spend the evening with her boyfriend? What was up with that?
She looked at him. He was about her height, with dark brown hair and dark eyes. A nice build. He wasn’t handsome, but she’d never cared much about that. Once a guy crossed the “not a troll” threshold, she was fine.
David Van Horn should have been the man of her dreams. Lord knew she’d been looking. He was the thirty-five-year-old senior vice president at the recently transplanted aerospace design firm in town. She was pushing thirty and had no idea why she hadn’t been able to find “the one.” Maybe there was something wrong with her.
Not a conversation she wanted to have with herself right now, she thought. Or ever.
“I don’t have to go back to work,” she told him.
“Great. Let’s have dinner here.”
“I’d love that.”
A statement stretching the truth more than a little, but who was going to know?
“WANT ME TO put vodka in yours?” Kelly asked as she handed Courtney a tray of glasses filled with lemonade.
“I wish,” Courtney told her. “Alas, no. I have a meeting.”
“Uh-huh. With your mom. Just give me the high sign and I’ll start screaming. That will give you a good excuse to come running.” Kelly wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have to think of a reason. Maybe a broken ankle.”
“You’d look adorable in a cast. Tiny and broken. Men would be flocking.”
Kelly grinned. “I could use a good flocking.”
Courtney was still laughing as she walked out of the bar and around to the pool area, where Joyce sat with Courtney’s mother, Maggie, at one of the tables on the far side. A large umbrella protected them from the mid-May afternoon sun. Sarge and Pearl lay on the grass a few feet away.
Joyce wore her usual St. John separates—today she had on black knit pants and a three-quarter sleeve black knit shirt. A blue, black and gray scarf pulled the look together. Maggie had come from her office. Her tailored dark green dress brought out the color of her eyes and complemented her blond hair.
As Courtney approached, her mother caught sight of her and quickly scrambled to her feet. Her haste to get to Courtney and rescue the tray would have been comical if it wasn’t a metaphor for their entire relationship. Assume, no matter the circumstances, that Courtney can’t handle it. Although given her somewhat predictable ability to create a disaster out of thin air, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.
“I’ll just take that,” her mother said with a smile. She carried the tray back to the table.
Courtney hesitated only a second before joining them. Too bad Neil hadn’t come along. He was always a calming presence. Courtney and her sisters enjoyed spending time with him. He was sweet, with a quirky sense of humor. But there was no Neil-buffer today, and as Joyce considered herself as much Maggie’s friend as Courtney’s, there would be no help from that quarter, either.
Courtney sat next to Joyce and reached for a glass of lemonade. As she took a sip, she thought that maybe she should have taken Kelly up on her offer of vodka. That would have taken the edge off the meeting.
“As we discussed before,” Joyce began, “the party is going to be out here.” She motioned to the grassy area in front of the pool. “We’ll have an open tent for dinner, but I’m hoping the weather cooperates and we can have drinks and appetizers out under the stars.”
“Sunset’s about eight ten,” Courtney said, putting her drink back on the table and opening her tablet cover. “We’ll be having drinks and appetizers with the sunset.”
“That will be so beautiful.” Maggie smiled at her daughter, then leaned toward Joyce. “What about the food?”
Joyce turned to Courtney and raised her eyebrows. “What are we having?”
Courtney found the menu in her file. “We’ve talked about a buffet. That gives us the most options. You and Neil both like spicy food, so I suggest you serve barbecue jerk chicken and grilled sweet-and-spicy shrimp as the main entrées.”
She listed the side dishes offered and the appetizers, along with the idea of having watermelon mojitos as the signature drink.
“They’re pink,” she told her mother. “We could do cosmopolitans, too.” The latter was much easier and would make her popular with the bar staff. In theory, the catering department didn’t ever want anything labor-intensive like a mojito as a signature drink at an event, but she’d called in a few favors to get it approved.
“I do love pink,” Maggie murmured, glancing between the two of them. “And Neil would say whatever makes me happy. Oh, let’s do cosmos. They’ll remind me of Sex and the City.”
Courtney could practically hear a collective sigh of relief from the bar staff. She made notes on her tablet.
When her mother had first started dating Neil Cizmic, none of her daughters had thought much about it. A widow for nearly twenty-four years, Maggie had dated on and off, sometimes getting involved with a man for a few months at a time. But the relationships had never gotten serious. Then Neil had come along.
On the surface, they couldn’t be more different. Maggie was tall and thin. Neil was at least two inches shorter and much more round. But he’d won her over with his kind heart and honest love. Now they were getting married. Every now and then Courtney poked at her heart to see if she minded that her late father was being replaced, but there had been no reaction. More than enough time had passed. If marrying Neil made her mom happy, then Maggie should go for it.
As for the “until death do us part” section of the vows, well, Courtney wasn’t the one getting married. She was willing to admit she’d never been in love, but from what she’d seen, most romantic relationships ended badly. As for the nonromantic kind of love, well, that hurt, too.
“The cosmos will be so pretty,” Joyce said. “And there’s an open bar for anyone who wants something different.”
Maggie leaned back in her chair. “I’m so excited. I always wanted an engagement party, but my mother said we couldn’t have one.” She looked at Joyce. “I was only eighteen when Phil and I got engaged, and nineteen when we got married. My mother made all the decisions. It was awful. We argued every day for a year. I wanted different dresses for the bridesmaids, a different cake. I hated the flowers she picked. So I swear, this time, I’m going to do everything the way I want. Convention be damned.”
“You have good taste, Mom. No one’s worried,” Courtney assured her. Something she’d passed on to her other two daughters. Sienna could make a paper bag look like high fashion, and Rachel made her living by doing hair and makeup. Courtney knew she was the only one missing the style gene in their family.
Her mother grinned. “You should be a little worried. I started planning my wedding when I was fourteen. I have a lot of pent-up ideas.” She eyed the pool. “Is that treated with chlorine?”
Joyce looked a little startled by the question. “Of course. Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking swans would be nice. But they can’t swim in chlorinated water, can they?”
Courtney felt her eyes widen. “No, and swans poop a lot, Mom. Cleaning the pool after the fact would be a nightmare.”
Her mother sighed. “Too bad. Because I’ve always wanted swans.”
Joyce shot Courtney a look of concern. Courtney quickly flipped through the files on her tablet, then turned it so her mother could see the photo on the screen.
“I’ve been playing around with some ideas based on pictures I’ve seen