Aunt Dimity and the Wishing Well

I shrugged. “If people are busy—”

 

“Oh, yes, people are busy, busy, busy,” Selena broke in sourly. “Miranda is dosing her patients with bottles of well water, Sally is sewing a striped waistcoat for Henry to wear on stage, Peggy is taking an inventory of the tearoom’s furnishings, and Emma is closeted with Peter and Cassie at Anscombe Manor. Even my closest friends . . .” She faltered, then straightened her shoulders and continued spiritedly, “Even my closest friends are too busy to give you the attention you deserve. Elspeth is running around after that dreadful niece of hers and Opal asked Millicent to help her set up a mail-order business for her jams and marmalades.”

 

“A mail-order business?” I repeated. “What’s wrong with selling her wares through the Emporium?”

 

“Opal doesn’t feel the Emporium will be able to handle the volume of sales that will come in once her products appear in Cozy Cookery,” Selena replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “She has no idea what she’s getting herself into, of course. I told her that increased production will mean increased costs for supplies, equipment, packaging, postage, publicity, licenses, health inspections, and so on, and she called me—” Selena’s nostrils flared with indignation. “She called me an interfering know-it-all, told me to mind my own business, and asked Millicent to help her instead of me.”

 

“Ouch,” I said. “That must have hurt.”

 

“What hurts,” Selena said angrily, “is that I have no business to mind! I went to the wishing well, just like everyone else, but has my wish been granted? No! It has been snatched away from me, ruined, annihilated!”

 

“What did you wish for?” I asked, wondering what kind of wish could provoke such strong emotions.

 

Selena took a few calming breaths and folded her well-manicured hands in her lap.

 

“Last year, after Sally and Henry became engaged,” she began, “I offered my services to Sally. As you know, I spent twenty-five years as a professional wedding planner and I thought my knowledge and experience would be useful to her.”

 

“Have they picked a date for the wedding?” I asked, my gossip’s antennae quivering.

 

“They’re leaning toward August,” she replied.

 

“A year after they became engaged,” I said, smiling. “How romantic.”

 

“I leave romance to the bride and groom,” said Selena. “And they leave the wedding to me. A lot of groundwork can be laid before a specific date is selected. I offered to lay the groundwork.”

 

“Did Sally accept?” I asked.

 

“She did,” said Selena. “She’s a marvelous seamstress, so she’ll make her own gown, but I’ve sketched age-appropriate gowns for the bridesmaids and the matron of honor and lined up morning suits for the groom, the best man, and the groomsmen at a rental shop in Upper Deeping.”

 

“I’ll bet Sally makes her own cake, too,” I put in.

 

“Naturally,” said Selena, “but I’ve selected the invitations, the flowers, the music, the reception hall, the band, and the caterers, as well as the gifts for the wedding party. I’ve also devised a tasteful decorative scheme for St. George’s, and I’ve kept overall expenses within Sally’s declared budget.” Selena’s eyes gleamed with pleasure, as if the lovingly orchestrated spectacle were unfolding in her imagination.

 

“It sounds as though you’ve put a lot of work into planning the wedding,” I said.

 

“I have,” Selena agreed. “I wanted Sally and Henry’s wedding day to go off without a hitch. That was my wish, Lori. No sudden rain showers, no embarrassing speeches, no broken zippers, no quarrels, no drunks, everyone arriving on time and having a splendid time. I asked the wishing well for a perfect wedding.”

 

“It’s a beautiful wish,” I said.

 

The gleam in Selena’s eyes went out.

 

“Beautiful, yes, but it won’t come true!” she cried. “Sally has thrown my plans back in my face.” Selena made a noise like a growl in the back of her throat. “She’s decided to be married in a registry office without attendants or guests or music or anything.”

 

“Why?” I asked, though I thought I knew the answer.

 

“It’s this ridiculous notion she has about the rebirth of Henry’s career,” Selena said fretfully. “She wants to get the wedding over and done with before the bookings start to pour in. She’s talking about buying a caravan to live in while they’re ‘on the road.’”

 

“What about Cozy Cookery?” I asked. “Dabney Holdstrom is writing a feature article about her. Is she going to leave him in the lurch?”

 

“Haven’t you heard?” Selena’s look of astonishment quickly turned into one of pity. “Of course you haven’t. You’ve been out of circulation since yesterday afternoon.”

 

“What’s happened?” I demanded.

 

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