MARY ELLEN FINISHED proofreading this month’s Parenting Advice column and emailed it to Holly. She liked to get them one week in advance, but Mary Ellen always sent it two weeks ahead just to be safe.
This month’s article was on the importance of having a fire safety plan. She shared with the good readers of the Gazette how her family ran fire drills four times a year. Her children might be small, but they could be taught to army crawl to the door, to check for heat with the backs of their little hands and to get outside as quickly as possible. They knew to meet by the oak tree in the front yard. The last time they practiced, everyone made it out safely in less than three and a half minutes.
The twins were napping peacefully, so she decided to go grab the mail. Keith was watching some hockey on the TV. He was allowed to watch only when the kids were sleeping. Monitoring their screen time was very important. They were not going to have children who were addicted to electronic devices.
The new neighbors were out watering the landscaping they had put in for spring. Sandy and Eugene were ideal neighbors. Their two boys were in elementary school and so polite. They had a dog, but they seemed to be good about keeping it leashed at all times. Her girls were allergic; she couldn’t have some mutt charging at them if they happened to be outside at the same time.
They had bought the house from the Davises about a month after Ruby and her troubled daughter moved out. It was quite a change from living next door to renters, who were always a little shady.
She opened the mailbox and pulled out the small stack of envelopes. Bill, junk mail, junk mail, junk mail. On the bottom was a square envelope addressed to her and Keith in beautiful calligraphy. No return address, though. That was odd. She didn’t have any family members celebrating anything important anytime soon. She couldn’t imagine who it was from.
The envelope was thick and sturdy. It was obviously very expensive stationery. She didn’t want to tear it, so she waited until she got inside and could use her letter opener.
It slid across the top like a hot knife through butter. Inside was a beautiful invitation on luxury card stock. This was no generic paper. This was custom. Whoever sent this was trying very hard to show off.
Mary Ellen sat down on one of the stools at her spotless kitchen island. All the lunch dishes were washed and dried, and the ingredients for stuffed peppers were set out to make things easier on her when it was time to start dinner. Mary Ellen was proud of her cleanliness and organizational strengths. Who wouldn’t be?
She read the whole invitation. Twice.
They met.
They fell in love.
They’re getting married.
You’re invited.
Please join Ruby and Boone
as they become Mr. and Mrs.
The plane leaves BNA
June 2 at 3:00 p.m. sharp
for Turks and Caicos.
Bring your passport.
And a bathing suit.
You’re welcome.
Mary Ellen felt faint. Today, according to the date circled on the calendar hanging on the wall of her kitchen command center, was June 1.
Leave it to Ruby to wait to the last minute to send out an invitation. Clearly she was still having trouble keeping her life in order. But she was marrying a music icon. Boone was back on the radio and his first single had been sitting at the top of the charts for weeks. That made Ruby someone Mary Ellen needed to be nice to.
“Keith!” she screamed loud enough to wake not only her children but also all the sleeping children in Grass Lake. “Grab the suitcases! I’ll get the passports! We’re going to a wedding!”
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