Not twenty-four hours after Lester Dickens had been arrested for murder and attempted murder—along with several members of his goon squad—Senator Ryan called a press conference and announced his retirement from politics.
It didn’t look like Shelby was leaving him, though. Mother had talked to her, and Shelby claimed they were going overseas for a much needed vacation and they weren’t saying where. “They have to get away from the press if they’re going to work things out,” Cissy explained, and I couldn’t blame them.
I understood about working things out. Malone had been pretty pissed at me when he found out what Mother and I had done. “You could have gotten yourselves killed. How could you do something so reckless? Why didn’t you call me first so I could talk you out of it,” he’d ranted, saying plenty of things I’d already said to myself.
Reminding him that Stephen had been along for the ride—heck, he’d driven—and had called the police once we’d gone inside hadn’t seemed to help, at least not for the first few days after.
But once Vernon Ryan had spilled his guts to the police and a warrant was issued for Lester Dickens’s arrest, along with a few of his henchmen, Brian eased up on me.
He even apologized for not taking me seriously when I’d suggested that Lester Dickens had been involved in Olivia’s death.
But no apologies were necessary, not once I knew Millie was off the hook. Mother even threw a dinner party to celebrate (only she had the beef Wellington catered).
It was good to see Millie so happy and talking about opening up that restaurant for real. “Your mother wants to invest, can you believe?” she’d confessed, and I told her that I’d be pleased as punch to contribute to such a worthy cause, too.
“Only if you let me bake the cake for your wedding,” she’d told me with tears in her eyes. “And it’s on the house.”
“I’ll let you know,” I promised, “when we set the wedding date.”
Millie had glanced from me to Mother, a puzzled look in her eyes. “But I thought Cissy said October sixteenth . . .”
I’d assured Millie that date wasn’t for real, that it had just been a part of the ruse Mother and I used when we were snooping.
Only I’d begun to realize that maybe my mother didn’t think it was a joke. Particularly when, the very next day, the doorbell rang and who should I find on my doorstep but the wedding planner.
“Ta-da!” Terra Smith held out a garment bag emblazoned with Draco in gold. The bag was far bigger than she was. I could barely see her two-toned head behind it.
“What is that?” I asked, reluctant to let her in after all the trouble she’d caused. I couldn’t even believe she had the nerve to show up at my place. “Is it a peace offering? If that’s the case, you should have brought a puppy.”
“No, it’s your dress, silly,” she told me and pushed her way inside.
“It can’t be mine,” I insisted as I closed the door and followed her in. “I didn’t order a dress. There must have been some mistake.”
“Ah, but it is yours,” she insisted and deposited the puffy bag on my sofa. The zipper made a zzzzz, as she tugged it open. “Your mother picked it out from Draco’s fall collection. She said it’s exactly what you would have wanted, so it’s been bought and paid for. We used measurements Cissy had left over from the deb dress you never wore, and we added about an inch or so to account for gaining a few pounds through the years. Don’t worry,” she added when she saw my horrified expression, “if it doesn’t fit perfectly, we’ve still got time for alterations.”
Good Lord. I nearly asked if she was kidding, but I could tell that she wasn’t. I was about to say, Well, you’ll have to return it, when Terra opened her mouth again.
“Cissy also had me book the Highland Park Presbyterian Church for your ceremony, and we’re set with the Dallas Country Club for the reception. It’ll be a sit-down dinner, of course. And Uncle Jas is doing the flowers—”
“Of course,” I repeated, though barely any sound emerged. My mouth was drier than the Mojave Desert. “I thought Cissy didn’t like you.”
“We made up.” She shrugged. “Okay, I think she just really wanted the dress and Draco wouldn’t give it to her unless she used me.”
“Ah-ha.” Now that made sense.
“Anyway, everything’s set for October sixteenth, just like you’d planned,” she said, and she pulled the gown from the bag.
“But October sixteenth was just for show,” I tried to say, only my protest was lost in the swish and swoosh of endless yards of fabric.
For a brief instant my heart pitter-pattered, and I had hopes I might see the delicate dress that the model had worn with bare feet and daisies. It would have been lovely to think that Cissy had actually listened to me and paid attention to my feelings.
But that pitter-patter soon turned to a clunk.
“So,” Terra said and held the gown up before her, “what do you think?”
It wasn’t the ethereal dress that had floated across the runway. It was the finale gown, or at least a toned-down version of it, all flounces and poofs with a train that required at least a dozen doves to carry it.
Lord have mercy.
I wet my lips. “So Cissy has everything worked out down to the appetizers, does she?”
“Yep, you don’t have to lift a finger,” Terra said and looked around for a hook to hang the dress. She ended up catching the hanger over the top of my TV armoire. “Just enjoy being a bride,” she rattled on as she backtracked toward the door. “You’re good to go. I’ve got all the details covered. All you have to do is show up at the church!” she remarked with a wave and a “Ta-ta!”
Then she was gone.
I stared at the Princess Di gown that filled my tiny living room, and I felt surprised and confused and ticked off all at once.
Okay, ticked off most of all.
So I was getting married on October sixteenth, was I?
Funny, how the bride was the last to know.
I felt my blood pressure rising, and I tipped my head to the heavens, doing my best Captain Kirk impression—or was it my Olivia La Belle impression?—as I hollered, “Muuuuther!”
I felt wrath all right, and I curled my fingers to fists. Bravo, Cissy, I thought. She’d turned me back into my insecure eighteen-year-old self, reliving the horror at getting railroaded into a cotillion.
It was what I’d feared most, and it had happened.
Cissy had planned my wedding without me, and it was everything she wanted and nothing that I wanted. It was my debutante ball all over again.
Déjà poo.
Only I was a grown woman now. I could do as I pleased. I just had to find a way to stay true to myself without Breaking My Mother’s Heart, Part Deux.
And I thought I knew just how to do it.