“Of June? You mean this comin’ Saturday?”
“That’s what I mean. You would have had plenty of notice if you’d called me back.”
“I was doing Shakespeare in the park. With Charlie Sheen, I might add.”
“All night?”
“Now, honey. You know I have to take care of my fans. They’re my life’s blood. Did you see my picture in People, by the way? Just me and Jules Asner, sharin’ a little girl talk.”
“I missed that. Sorry.”
“I gave you a subscription. What do y’all do, just let it sit around?”
“I’ve been busy with the wedding plans.”
“Oh. Right. Well, Saturday’s difficult for me, honey. How about the first weekend in August?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “As interested as I am in your schedule, Mama, the invitations have already gone out. Meg’s busy planning the big day. It’s too late to change the date.”
Mama laughed. “Meg is planning your wedding? Honey, that’s like asking the pope to plan a bar mitzvah.”
“The wedding is Saturday. I hope you’ll be able to attend.” There she was, getting stiff and formal again, her usual reaction to stress.
Meghann handed her an aspirin.
Claire couldn’t help smiling.
“She gives me a migraine every time,” Meg said. “Is she still babbling?”
Claire nodded, whispered, “I think I heard the name Anna Nicole Smith.”
Meg grinned. “Another nice Southern girl with intimacy issues.”
“Claire?” Mama said sharply. “Are you listening to me?”
“Of course, Mama. Every word is a pearl.”
“What time on Saturday? I asked you twice.”
“The wedding is at seven P.M. Reception to follow.”
Mama sighed. “Saturday. I’ve been waitin’ three months for my hair appointment with José. Maybe he can take me early.”
Claire couldn’t take any more. “I’ve got to run, Mama. I’ll be at the Hayden Episcopal Church at seven this Saturday. I hope you can make it, but I’ll certainly understand if you’re too busy.”
“I am busy. But how often does a woman’s daughter get married?”
“In our family, not often.”
“Tell me straight up, honey. D’you think this one’ll last? I’d hate to give up my hair appointment for—”
“I’ve got to go, Mama. Bye.”
“Okay, honey. Me, too. And congratulations. I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Thanks, Mama. Bye.”
Claire tried to smile as she looked up at Meghann. “Saturday’s a bad day for her.”
“What? An audition for the $25,000 Pyramid?”
“A hair appointment with José.”
“We should have sent her the invite after it was over.”
“I don’t know why I keep expecting something different from her.”
Meg shook her head. “Yeah, I know. Even a mother alligator sticks around the eggs.”
“Mama would make herself an omelette.”
They actually laughed at that.
Claire looked out the window. Sunlight streamed onto her yard, made the flowers glow. She took peace from that view; it reminded her of all that was right with her world. It was best to forget about Mama. “Let’s talk about the wedding plans,” she said at last.
“Perfect. Maybe we could go over the menu.”
Claire straightened. “Of course. I was thinking about those foot-long submarine sandwiches. They really feed a lot of people, and the men love them. Gina’s potato salad is a perfect side dish.”
Meghann was staring at her. “Potato salad and submarine sandwiches. That would be …” She paused. “Delicious.”
“You paused.”
“Did I? I think I took a breath.”
“I know that pause. It’s judgment talking.”
“No. No. I had just talked to a girlfriend of mine. Carla. She’s a struggling chef—just graduated—and she’s broke. Can’t pay her rent. She offered to do up some hors d’oeuvres for cost plus a tiny amount. She needs the word of mouth; you know how it is. But don’t worry. I’ll be happy to go to Safeway for the food, if that’s what you’d rather do.”
Claire frowned. “Would it really help your friend out? Catering the reception?”
“It would, but that’s not what matters. What I care about is that you get the wedding you want.”
“How much would it cost?”
“The same as submarine sandwiches and potato salad.”
“No kidding. Well. I guess that would be okay. As long as we include those little hot dogs wrapped in the popover dough. Bobby loves those.”
“Pigs in blankets. Of course. I’m sure I would have thought of that.”
Claire thought her sister paused again, but she couldn’t be sure.
Meg smiled. It was only a little forced. “Now, oddly enough, I also know an out-of-work baker who could make a four-layer cake with fresh flowers. She recommends violets, but of course, it’s up to you.”
“You know, Meg, you’re a complete pain in the ass.”
“I know. Judgmental and unforgiving.”
“Absolutely. But you take charge well.”