*
Clearly, someone had been reading bridal magazines. Dog-eared copies stacked two feet high sat on a corner chair under a folded sheath of ivory satin. Someone had also been playing table-dress-up. The dining room table and chairs were adorned in Tiffany blue and chocolate brown. I guessed Vera Wang place settings and Waterford crystal. The flatware was sterling. Tall vases filled with a blue-colored gel held curly willow branches, white orchids, and balls of moss.
“I had them set it up here so we could just make sure. Live with it a bit. You don’t think it’s too much, do you?”
“No. It’s lovely.” And it was. “Do you want to look through the photos? I can get an idea of what you and Miles like, and how you envision your special day.”
I said the last three words with my Hester Hotel lilt firmly attached to the lump in my throat.
“Let’s wait for Miles.”
I didn’t want to remind Violet that he’d been through this already—he’d stood under a chuppah, a wedding canopy; he’d broken the glass. He’d had a wife. I had no doubt Miles loved Violet, but the bridal bedlam—chair covers, for instance—didn’t seem to fit the guy I’d known. When Celia and Miles had married, it was casual to the point of embarrassing their mothers. The couple had preferred a picnic at the Jasper Pond Pavilion to the typical Jewish wedding at one of the local synagogues with a live band, passed hors d’oeuvres, and a crushed rendition of the hora.
Shay bounded into the room, earbuds draped around her neck, which I assumed was not a choking hazard for a twelve-year-old. One day Celia and I replaced all mini-blind cords with wands, when Shay was a toddler, after Celia had read about an eighteen-month-old who had died after getting caught up in the cords.
Shay’s hair was pulled to a loose ponytail over one shoulder. She stood with her feet apart, hands on hips, reminding me of Peter Pan.
“How was class?” Violet asked.
“Fine,” Shay said without looking at her. “Aunt Tee!” She threw her long arms around me and hugged.
“Dad and I are going to talk with Teddi about all the wedding photos. Do you want to stay?”
“No, my shoes are ready! The store just called while we were in the car. Can we go get them? Please?”
“You want me to take you? I should really stay here with your Aunt Teddi.”
“Daddy can stay here with Aunt Tee and you and I can go get the shoes. Don’t you want to see them? What if they didn’t dye them the right shade of Tiffany blue?”
Miles stepped inside the room. He looked like the other half of Violet’s catalog page, wearing khaki chinos and an untucked Oxford-cloth shirt with rolled-up sleeves, not the suit he’d worn this morning. “What if what’s not the right shade of blue? Because we can’t have that now, can we? You know, I’m thinking of getting my shoes dyed. Periwinkle would match my eyes. Don’t you think?” Miles batted his just-about-periwinkle eyes at Violet.
I’d only ever seen him fuss and flirt with Celia. I hated that for that second, his happiness pinched my heart.
“Daddy!” Shay tried to sound annoyed, but the hint of a grin gave her away momentarily. “I told Violet my shoes are ready. We need to get them. The store’s only open till five today. Shouldn’t Vi take me to get them? Please? We’ll be right back! She doesn’t want to leave Aunt Tee, but you’ll be here.”
“We can do this another time,” I said. Maybe next time I could avoid a panic attack. “I just thought if we got it out of the way now, you wouldn’t have to worry about the lists and the details, but we have until the end of the week. I’m not going anywhere.” Just a reminder.
“No, I was looking forward to it. And you walked all the way here. Plus, my parents are coming in a few days, and cousins, and my college friends,” Violet said. “I was hoping—I mean—you’re such an expert on weddings and we did all this ourselves without a planner. I’d just love your professional opinion—if it’s not too much to ask.”
Shay fiddled with the tablecloth, smoothed a napkin, and ran her finger round and round the rim of a goblet. If it had been filled with water, she’d have played a song.
“Sure, not a problem,” I said. “I’m happy to help.”
“So you’ll wait here? With Daddy? We won’t be long,” Shay said. “Promise you won’t leave?”
“I promise.”
Miles exhaled with a sigh. “I’m sure Teddi has other things to do today.”
Had he meant to insult me? You should always be nice to the person serving your food, and you should always be nice to the person taking your photograph. Especially when she’s doing it for free.
“Nope, I don’t have anything else going on for the next few hours.” Miles would just have to deal with me on his own.
“It’s settled then,” Violet said. “We’ll be back in a flash.” Violet kissed Miles on the cheek. She lingered—just for a second, but it was a loving linger nonetheless. “Ha. Back in a flash to talk about photography. Get it?”
I did.
Shay hugged me again and kissed her dad before following Violet through the house toward the garage.
“Have fun while we’re gone!” she shouted as they left.
Without talking, Miles and I moved into the kitchen, where the table was set with cotton placemats dotted with embroidered pineapples.
“Shay said you had a nice breakfast.”
“It’s a nice little café.”
“That it is.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Miles looked at me, in want of more information.
“A group of girls walked in and made fun of your banner.”
“I’m sure you’re overreacting,” Miles said.
“No, it was like they knew Shay and were being mean because she was there. I don’t know, and Shay wouldn’t talk about it…”
“She’s a teenager.”
“She’s twelve!”
“Well, you know what they say, twelve is the new sixteen.”
“I don’t know what they say, actually. And I don’t know what that means, Mi.”
“It means she’s not spending her days playing with dolls anymore.”
“I didn’t think she played with dolls. How did the fitting go?”
“For my tux? How did you know about that?”
“No. Shay’s dress fitting? For the wedding?”
“Vi and Shay’s dresses have been ready to go and in the upstairs closet for weeks. Vi is amazingly organized.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess I misunderstood.”
Miles pulled out a box of saltines and pressed two into his mouth. “Cracker?” he mumbled, crumbs escaping.
“No thanks.”
He nodded. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did.”
“Is it strange to be back?”
“It is.”
“Do you miss the fancy hotel digs?”
“Sort of.”
“Teddi, are you going to ever answer with more than two words?”
“Perhaps.”