had, planning this wedding.â
Deb arched a dark, perfect eyebrow. âBad analogy, if you donât mind my saying so.â
âYeah.â Annie heaved another sigh. âBut you know what I mean. The logistics of the whole thing were beyond belief. Imagine your daughter walking in one night and calmly announcing sheâs going to get married in two months and wouldnât it be wonderful if she could have the perfect wedding sheâd always dreamed about?â
Deb stood, reached up under her chiffon skirt and wriggled her panty hose down her legs.
âMy daughterâs in love with the seventies,â she said, draping the hose around her throat like a boa. âIf Iâm lucky, sheâll opt for getting married on a hilltop somewhere, with the guests all invited to bring... Whatâs the matter?â
âNothing.â Annie shot to her feet and padded to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle of champagne and a pair of juice glasses. âHe accused me of wanting that, you know.â
âKnow what? Wanting what? Who accused you?â
âYou mind drinking this stuff out of juice glasses? I know youâre supposed to use flutes, but I never got around to buying any.â
âWe can drink it out of jelly jars, for all I care. What are you talking about, Annie? Who accused you of what?â
âChase. Mr. Ex.â Annie undid the wire around the foil, then chewed on her lip as she carefully worked the cork between her fingers. It popped with a loud bang and champagne frothed out. Some of it dripped onto the tile floor. Annie shrugged and mopped it up by moving her stockinged foot over the small puddle. âA few weeks ago, he called to talk to Dawn. I had the misfortune to answer the phone. He said heâd gotten his invitation and he was delighted to see I hadnât let my instincts run amok.â She held out a glass of wine, and Deb took it. âAmok,â she said, licking her fingertips, âcan you imagine? And all because when we were first married, I threw a couple of parties in the backyard behind the house we lived in.â
âI thought you lived in a condo.â
âWe did, eventually, but not then. Chase knew somebody who got us this really cheap rental in Queens.â
Deb nodded. âWhat kind of parties did you throw?â
âOutdoor parties, mostly.â
âSo?â Deb made a face. âBig deal.â
Annieâs lips twitched. âWell, it was wintertime.â
âWintertime?â
âYes. See, the thing was, the house was so small, the mice pretty much ran it. Andââ
âMice?â
Annie sank down on the chair again. âIt wasnât much of a house, but then, we didnât have much money. Iâd just graduated from high school and the only job I could find was at the local Burger King. Chase had transferred to City College. The tuition was lots cheaper and besides, that way he could work construction jobs for his father a couple of days a week.â She sighed. âWe were dead broke. Believe me, we found a million ways to save money!â
Deb smiled. âIncluding having parties outdoors in midwinter.â
Annie smiled, too. âOh, it wasnât that bad. Weâd build a fire in a barbecue in the backyard, you know? And Iâd make tons and tons of chili and homemade bread. Weâd put on a huge pot of coffee, and thereâd be beer for the guys...â
Her voice drifted away.
âA far cry from today,â Deb said. She reached for the champagne bottle and refilled both their glasses. âBubbly, caviar, shrimp on ice, boneless beef with mushrooms...â
âFilet de Boeuf Aux Chanterelles, if you please,â Annie said archly.
Deb grinned. âPardonnez-moi, madam.â
âNo joke. Considering what that stuff cost, youâd better remember to give it its French name.â
âAnd you didnât let Chase pay a dime,
John R. Little and Mark Allan Gunnells