A Catered Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

on, what sort of dress have you got in mind . . . ?”
    Mum and I had just finished coffee and I was thinking about heading home, when the phone rang. Mum went over to the kitchen counter and picked up.
    “Hello. Yes . . . If you need to talk . . . I’m listening.”
    God, now she was doing Frasier impersonations.
    “Mum, you can’t keep on doing this.”
    Mum waved a hand to shush me. “OK . . . Harold, so has anything happened to make you so depressed? . . . I see. Your fake plants died because you didn’t pretend to water them . . . And because your lucky number never comes up, you think you’re cursed . . . What is your lucky number? . . . Three million, seven hundred and forty-eight thousand, nine hundred and thirty-one. Uh-huh . . . So, how’s that working for you?”
    I picked up my jacket and gave Mum a wave to let her know I was leaving. “Speak to you during the week.” She nodded and went back to the unfortunate Harold.
    I got into my car and was about to start the engine when my cell rang. It was Scarlett. I wasn’t expecting to hear from her, as she and Grace were away for the weekend in Dorset.
    “Omigod, I just read your e-mail.” She sounded really excited, as I’d hoped she would. “Grace and I would absolutely love to be bridesmaids at your wedding.”
    Since that night in my bedroom when Scarlett came out to me, our relationship had grown and matured and we were closer than I had ever thought possible. I had also come to think the world of Grace. Josh loved both of them, too, and agreed that they should absolutely be bridesmaids at our wedding.
    “Oh, Scar. That’s fantastic. I’m so pleased, and I know Josh will be, too.”
    “But lesbian bridesmaids? You sure? I mean, aren’t some of Josh’s family really orthodox? Don’t they still stone people for being gay?”
    “It’s only his old aunts and uncles who are religious. And his mum says they’ll be fine. She says it’ll give them something to gossip about.”
    “Great. Then we’re on, but I have to warn you that dresses are totally out of the question.”
    “O-K. That’s not a problem.” There was no way I wanted them to wear outfits they weren’t comfortable with. On the other hand, this was my wedding day. I didn’t want my bridesmaids in sneakers. Plus, Scarlett and Grace were gorgeous. We were talking full-on lipstick lesbians here. These were not the kind of women who favored trucks and mullet haircuts. I asked her what she had in mind.
    “I’m thinking maybe an early thirties, transgender, Cabaret slash-Weimar vibe—you know, men’s pinstripe suits, long cigarette holders and monocles. Mum would love it.”
    “Please tell me you’re joking.”
    Scarlett started laughing. “I’m joking. Of course we’ll wear dresses. I’m sure that whatever you choose will be great.”
    “Hooped lavender crinolines it is, then,” I said.
    “Great. We’ll bring the curds and whey.” She paused. “So what did Mum say when you told her the news?”
    “Well, she’s insisting on paying for the wedding, which is really generous. I think she’s doing her best to be happy for me, but she’s struggling. The bottom line is I’m getting hitched to a boring doctor instead of a performance poet or some artist who marinades brains in lark’s spittle.”
    “What do you do with her? You have to let me speak to her again. I hate the way I get all the maternal plaudits. I mean, look how she reacted when she found out that Grace was black. It wasn’t just ridiculously OTT and embarrassing; it was so insensitive to you . . . and to Grace, for that matter. I’m going to call her.”
    “No, don’t. She’s trying. We have to give her credit for that. Whenever either of us tries to speak to her, it always touches a nerve and she gets herself worked up trying to pretend there’s not a problem. You and I know her feelings towards Josh—and me, for that matter—are all tied up with her relationship with Dad. I take after him, and