Spring Fever

Dammit. She should have known better than to have invited even one member of her wretched family to the wedding. But she’d thought it would look too odd not to have any family there, and Aunt Eleanor, her mother’s aunt, was reasonably presentable. She should have left well enough alone.

“What do you want, Veronica? I’m at work, and I’ve got a million things going on today, so I’d appreciate it if you’d make it brief.”

“Oh, Sissy,” Veronica said mournfully. “You’re about to hurt my feelings. I was just calling to catch up on old times. Hey, Mallery says you’re quite the businesswoman. Had your own dress business, sold it for ten million dollars. Mama and Daddy and the girls and me, we hear you’re rolling in the dough. Mallery says you even paid to fly Aunt Eleanor down for the wedding.”

“Mallery doesn’t know dick,” Celia said. “I did sell my business, but there were … complications. The money’s all tied up in stock options and stuff like that, so if you’re calling to hit me up for a loan, you can forget it.”

“A loan?” Veronica laughed. “No, see, I was calling you about the money you owe me. Remember? When you blew town, you stole my car? I’d say the car alone was worth six thousand. And in the glove box in that car was quite a bit of cash that belonged to Eddie? Like three thousand dollars?”

Celia clicked her fingertips impatiently on the desktop. “That piece of shit Cutlass had a hundred and sixty thousand miles and leaked oil like a sieve. It was worth maybe six hundred, tops. As for the cash in the glove box, it was only eighteen hundred. And since we both know the money was the proceeds from your ex-husband’s sideline of selling oxycodone you stole from your nursing home patients, I figure he’s probably not going to call the cops and report it missing. Six years later.”

“Fine, you wa

I have no family, Celia thought. I am an only child and an orphan. And I intend to stay that way.

“And what if I say I’m not giving you a dime?” Celia challenged.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to call up your ritzy-titzy new family, the Baylesses, and tell them all about your real family—the one you left back here in South Sioux City,” Veronica said.

“Do that,” Celia said, lowering her voice. “And I’ll call the owners of that shithole nursing home you work at and suggest they check your perso

She clicked End on her cell phone, tapped the Block Caller icon on her phone, and went back to work on her to-do list.

Celia looked down at her list and frowned. Mason had been adamant about no guests, but they had to have two witnesses. Davis? No. He and Mason had been at each other’s throats all week long. And anyway, she thought, allowing herself a very small, very secret smile. She had another task for Davis. A very private task.

Matt Kelsey? She frowned. If she invited Matt, she’d have to include the insufferable Bo

“Bo

“Well,” Bo

“I can tell you that Mason won’t be playing golf on Saturday,” Celia said. “Because we’ve rescheduled the wedding.”

“Oh, Celia!” Bo

Celia held the phone away from her face and smirked. “Just ugly i

“I have no idea,” Bo

“Who?” Celia asked, crossing her eyes. She knew damned good and well that the font of all gossip in Pasccoe was on the other end of the line.

“Don’t be mad at me for saying this, but I think Pokey Riggs has been telling all kinds of stories on you, Celia.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Celia agreed. “She and you-know-who are thick as thieves. Anyway, I choose to rise above all of that petty stuff. And I know you do, too.”

“Absolutely,” Bo

“It’ll be tomorrow afternoon at Cherry Hill,” Celia said. “Very, very private and exclusive. In fact, we’re not having any attendants at all. Just Mason and me, the justice of the peace, and Sallie. And our two very dearest friends. If you’re not too busy.”

“Really?” Bo

“Thank heavens,” Celia said, rolling her eyes. “I was praying you didn’t have any prior commitments.”

“We’ll clear our calendars,” Bo

Celia lowered her voice. “You’ll keep this in strictest confidence, won’t you, Bo

“You know me,” Bo

“I can hardly believe it,” Celia said. “We really hadn’t pla

“Really? Celia, you aren’t. I mean, are you? Pregnant?”

“I am,” Celia said. “And Mason is over the moon. You won’t tell a soul yet, right? We haven’t even broken the news to Sophie.”

“I won’t breathe a word,” Bo

Celia hung up and laughed out loud.

“As if.” The news would be all over town within a matter of minutes. Just a little additional insurance, in case Mason had any second thoughts about backing out on the upcoming nuptials.

36

A

Poor Mason, A

She busied herself with more work, more phone calls and e-mails, but couldn’t manage to completely put aside the white-hot anger seething inside.

*   *   *

Pokey was already sitting at their usual table when A

“Sorry,” she said, between chews. “I got here early, and I was starving, so I went ahead and ordered for us. You’re having the chicken salad, yes?”

“Of course,” A

Janette’s dining room was a pink and green confection, a Lilly Pulitzer dress come to life, humming with feminine conversation conducted in sugary southern drawls. All the tables in the room were filled with women their age or their mothers’, dressed in floral sundresses or summery pants outfits. A

Pokey sighed contentedly and patted her midsection when the waitress set their plates in front of them. “This baby has got to be a girl. I was hungry when I was pregnant with the boys, but this time around I am ravenous all the time!”