dresses, but couldn't she be a little less meticulous and get the damned dresses finished? Jane didn't want to be nagging the old woman, but everything else was so thoroughly under control and Mrs. Crossthwait was making Jane crazywith her dawdling and her outspoken rudeness to everyone.
“I plan to hold you to that promise," Jane said firmly.
But this turned out to be an empty threat. A very empty threat.
Four
By mid-afternoon
Jane
was fretting about the third bridesmaid. She hadn't arrived and her dress was the most elaborate and farthest from completion. Jane was rummaging through her notebooks for Eden's telephone number when the young woman arrived.
“I hope you're Eden Matthews," Jane said to her. "I was about to set up a search party."
“And you must be Jane Jeffry. I'm sorry I'm late. Car problems," Eden said breezily. She dumped a large suitcase in the front hall, evidently certain that it would be handled from here on by someone else. "The old lodge never changes," she said, strolling into the main room. "I'm going to hate seeing this old place torn down. I've spent a good deal of time here over the years."
“You're an old friend of Livvy's, aren't you?" Jane said.
Eden made a "so-so" motion with her hand."We've known each other all our lives," she said. "Our fathers are best friends and business associates. Ah, this is the best chair in the place," she said, flopping down on a deep leather armchair.
Jane was surprised at Eden's appearance. They'd never met before, only talked on the phone, but Eden had a very soft voice and Jane had formed a totally unfounded impression that Eden was small and meek. But she was a tall, well-rounded glamour girl — reminiscent of a young Farrah Fawcett, but with a voluptuous figure. Lots of artfully tousled hair, stunning teeth, perfect skin, and a runway model's walk.
The bridesmaid dress she'd chosen — a mass of draped ruffles cascading down from a deep neckline — now made sense. Tall, gorgeous, long-striding Eden was going to make poor Livvy look like Cinderella before the Fairy Godmother took her in hand. It was hard to outshine a bride, but Jane suspected Eden was going to do just that.
Jane was about to launch into a nag about dress fittings when Eden said, "So poor little Livvy really is going to marry Dwayne, the gas station attendant? She hasn't backed out yet?"
“Backed out! Not after all my work, she won't. The groom works at a gas station?" Jane asked.
Eden laughed softly. "No, he just looks like it. Sexy as hell, I have to admit, but greasy-looking. Like a gigolo at a cheap casino. But then" — she held up a finger and moved it back and forth like a metronome—"the clock is ticking. Livvy's nearly thirty and it's time to provide grandsons.”
Jane sat down across from Eden. "You don't like her, do you?”
Eden looked shocked. "I
do
like Livvy. We grew up almost like sisters and you can't dislike a sister—”
Jane, who had a sister she wasn't crazy about, nearly objected to this premise.
“—but mostly I feel sorry for her," Eden went on. "She's so vanilla custard, poor thing. So obedient. Jack Thatcher, her father, has thoroughly damped down any spirit or personality she might have had. She's spent her whole life trying to please him.”
Eden stared at a moose head on the opposite wall and went on, more to herself than to Jane, "I remember when we were about seven years old. We came out here for the weekend and Livvy and I wandered off to play. We found some perfectly luscious mud and had a great time making absolute messes of ourselves. When we got back, Jack went ballistic. She'd ruined her dress, she was a mess, he was ashamed to have a daughter who could make such a pig of herself.
“Livvy cried for the entire weekend. I never saw her with so much as a smudge on her face or a wrinkle in her clothes again. And I never heard her laugh again, except politely."
“That's very sad," Jane said. "Does her father approve of
“I plan to hold you to that promise," Jane said firmly.
But this turned out to be an empty threat. A very empty threat.
Four
By mid-afternoon
Jane
was fretting about the third bridesmaid. She hadn't arrived and her dress was the most elaborate and farthest from completion. Jane was rummaging through her notebooks for Eden's telephone number when the young woman arrived.
“I hope you're Eden Matthews," Jane said to her. "I was about to set up a search party."
“And you must be Jane Jeffry. I'm sorry I'm late. Car problems," Eden said breezily. She dumped a large suitcase in the front hall, evidently certain that it would be handled from here on by someone else. "The old lodge never changes," she said, strolling into the main room. "I'm going to hate seeing this old place torn down. I've spent a good deal of time here over the years."
“You're an old friend of Livvy's, aren't you?" Jane said.
Eden made a "so-so" motion with her hand."We've known each other all our lives," she said. "Our fathers are best friends and business associates. Ah, this is the best chair in the place," she said, flopping down on a deep leather armchair.
Jane was surprised at Eden's appearance. They'd never met before, only talked on the phone, but Eden had a very soft voice and Jane had formed a totally unfounded impression that Eden was small and meek. But she was a tall, well-rounded glamour girl — reminiscent of a young Farrah Fawcett, but with a voluptuous figure. Lots of artfully tousled hair, stunning teeth, perfect skin, and a runway model's walk.
The bridesmaid dress she'd chosen — a mass of draped ruffles cascading down from a deep neckline — now made sense. Tall, gorgeous, long-striding Eden was going to make poor Livvy look like Cinderella before the Fairy Godmother took her in hand. It was hard to outshine a bride, but Jane suspected Eden was going to do just that.
Jane was about to launch into a nag about dress fittings when Eden said, "So poor little Livvy really is going to marry Dwayne, the gas station attendant? She hasn't backed out yet?"
“Backed out! Not after all my work, she won't. The groom works at a gas station?" Jane asked.
Eden laughed softly. "No, he just looks like it. Sexy as hell, I have to admit, but greasy-looking. Like a gigolo at a cheap casino. But then" — she held up a finger and moved it back and forth like a metronome—"the clock is ticking. Livvy's nearly thirty and it's time to provide grandsons.”
Jane sat down across from Eden. "You don't like her, do you?”
Eden looked shocked. "I
do
like Livvy. We grew up almost like sisters and you can't dislike a sister—”
Jane, who had a sister she wasn't crazy about, nearly objected to this premise.
“—but mostly I feel sorry for her," Eden went on. "She's so vanilla custard, poor thing. So obedient. Jack Thatcher, her father, has thoroughly damped down any spirit or personality she might have had. She's spent her whole life trying to please him.”
Eden stared at a moose head on the opposite wall and went on, more to herself than to Jane, "I remember when we were about seven years old. We came out here for the weekend and Livvy and I wandered off to play. We found some perfectly luscious mud and had a great time making absolute messes of ourselves. When we got back, Jack went ballistic. She'd ruined her dress, she was a mess, he was ashamed to have a daughter who could make such a pig of herself.
“Livvy cried for the entire weekend. I never saw her with so much as a smudge on her face or a wrinkle in her clothes again. And I never heard her laugh again, except politely."
“That's very sad," Jane said. "Does her father approve of
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