That evening, Travis and Lauren as well as Stacy and Miriam meet at Gloria’s house for dinner because Lauren and Travis have asked them to help with the wedding plans. “First things first,” Miriam says, setting the table with Gloria’s dinner plates, the ones with the word Thankful—surrounded by autumn leaves—written across each one. “The date that you get married will often be determined by the place you select to get married.” She sets the last plate down and moves aside so Stacy can follow with the napkins and silverware. “So,” she says, moving to a cupboard to retrieve glasses. “Where do you want to get married?”
Lauren smiles, looking at Travis. “In the gazebo.”
“I love it!” Gloria says, pulling a casserole from the oven. “Weddings in the gazebo are always so beautiful.”
Miriam grabs a notebook off the counter and sits at the table, taking notes. “Wonderful! And what day in the spring or summer are you looking at?”
“We were kind of thinking next month. On the twenty-first,” Lauren says.
Miriam drops her pen and looks at them, dumbfounded. “In December? In the freezing cold? In the gazebo, where the wind comes whipping through there at eighty miles an hour?”
Lauren puts a napkin at each setting. “I didn’t even think about it until we drove by there last night and I saw that the gazebo is gorgeous this year. That star on top is so beautiful and lights up the town square. As we drove by it I realized that the gazebo is what brought Travis and me together. If it hadn’t been for the fund-raiser last year, we might never have met.”
“Oh, you would have met him eventually,” Miriam says. “The town isn’t that big! Why don’t you wait until it’s warm? That way we can decorate with flowers like wisteria. Wisteria doesn’t have a chance in the gazebo next month.”
Lauren smiles at her. “We’re not really looking for a lot of flowers or decorations, because the gazebo is already so beautiful.”
Miriam’s eyes widen. “And cold. Did I mention cold?”
“We are just looking for something simple,” Travis says, sitting down at the table, facing Miriam. “We knew that if anyone could pull off a wedding this fast, it would be you.”
Miriam nods. “Well, that’s true enough.” Gloria, Stacy, and Lauren glance at one another, smiling. “But I don’t understand the hurry. Why December? I mean, the snow and ice and wind and…”
“Because all of you were there with me last year at the gazebo for the fund-raiser and the Christmas parade,” Lauren says. “Gloria, don’t you remember? You told me about Christmas miracles on one of the first days that I met you and one extraordinary thing after another happened to bring all of you into my life.”
Gloria sets the casserole on the table. “Of course I remember, babe. If you want to get married in the gazebo, then by golly you are going to get married in the gazebo! Even if it means that all of us are out there in parkas or snowsuits. Right, Miriam?”
Miriam sighs. “Speaking of Christmas miracles, we should all start praying for one so that we don’t get frostbite during the wedding vows. So the twenty-first is a Saturday? A Friday?”
“It’s a Wednesday,” Travis says. “The gazebo is totally booked every weekend.”
“A wedding on Wednesday?” Miriam says. “Who gets married on a Wednesday?”
“People in Paraguay get married on Wednesday all the time,” Gloria says.
Miriam turns to her, her eyes simmering. “If you are going to lie, could you at least make it plausible. If you had said Boon Town, Georgia, or wherever it is you’re from, that would have been believable, but you don’t know anything about Paraguay!”
“I know they probably wouldn’t welcome you there,” Gloria says, whispering.
Stacy jumps in to change the subject, before filling the last glass with spiced tea. “Is Marshall eating with us?”
“Don’t pour him anything yet,” Gloria says. “He told me he might be late. They’re doing Christmas inventory at the store and although they don’t need him around for that, he likes to be there.” Gloria married Marshall Wilson less than two years ago and they still consider themselves newlyweds, much to Miriam’s chagrin. She places a bowl of green beans and another filled with coleslaw on the table. “Sit. Sit.” They each take a seat as she opens her hands, reaching for Lauren’s and for Miriam’s, squeezing her fingers around them. “Lord, we’re thankful for each other and for this food and for all the help you give us at Glory’s Place. We’re especially thankful for Lauren and Travis and the life they’ll have together. Show us how to help them and keep our big noses out of where they don’t belong.” Miriam groans as the others snicker. “In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”
“God doesn’t like irreverence, Gloria,” Miriam says, scooping a hearty serving of casserole onto her plate.
“But he does like truth,” Gloria says, plopping a scoop of casserole onto her plate and smiling.
“Let’s get back to the wedding,” Miriam says, ignoring her. “What about the rings or the wedding dress or reception hall? Do you have a bridal party selected or know what you would like them to wear?”
“We’re getting together with the jeweler this week,” Travis says.
Miriam writes something on the notepad. “Very good. Do you know what sort of dress you would like?”
Lauren takes a bite of the coleslaw and makes yummy noises in the back of her throat, pointing at her plate and giving a thumbs-up. Miriam puts her fork down and waits for her to respond. Lauren feels the urgency, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I haven’t thought too much about that.”
Miriam scratches onto the notepad. “Then we must give that some thought right away. The good news is there are some lovely stores if we go into the city.”
“Well, I don’t really know if I need to go into the city. There are nice stores here.”
“In a sweet, Andy Griffith Show kind of way, yes,” Miriam says, not understanding. “But if you want upscale, we simply must leave Grandon.”
“I don’t want upscale,” Lauren says. “I’m not even completely sure that I know what that means. I just want—”
Miriam lifts her hand to stop her. “Reception hall? Of course the nicest in the area would be at Laurel Glen. They have exquisite food and a wonderful space for dancing.”
“We were kind of thinking we’d hold it at Glory’s Place if that’s okay. We’d like all the kids to come.”
Gloria claps her hands together, trying to swallow the bite in her mouth. “That is a wonderful idea!”
“That is a horrible idea,” Miriam says.
“Glory’s Place has special meaning for them,” Stacy says. “That’s where Lauren met Travis to talk about the fund-raiser inside the gazebo. It’s where she met you and Gloria, Dalton and Heddy, and where she helped me with the choir.”
“Well, the theater that I worked in when I met my first husband had special meaning but I didn’t want to serve coronation chicken there following my wedding ceremony!” She looks at their blank faces and presses her fingers to each side of her temples. “Have you thought about what you would like to serve?”
“We were thinking about chicken wings and potato salad,” Travis says.
Miriam shakes her head as she shrugs, her arms open in front of her as if she’s holding something huge. “Is this a wedding or a hootenanny? How about some mini quiches, along with cut vegetables and a nice pâté?”
“Miriam, I guarantee you that a room full of kids has never heard of quiche or pâté, but they do know chicken wings!” Gloria says.
Miriam leans back in her chair, defeated and resigned. “Will there be a cake?”
Lauren keeps her voice quiet. “We were kind of thinking of something like a long table filled with different kinds of candy.” Gloria and Stacy look down at their plates as they stifle a laugh.
Miriam shakes her head. “No! No! No! It is a wedding. There simply must be cake. Surely children have heard of cake, right, Gloria?”
“We’re just trying to keep things simple and assure that we can afford the cost,” Lauren says.
“Marshall and I want to buy the cake,” Gloria says.
“No, Gloria,” Travis says. “That’s not the point. We—”
“We already talked about it and want to buy the cake. Or the candies. Whatever you want.”
“They want cake,” Miriam says.
Lauren begins to protest. “We don’t need—”
“Yes you do,” Miriam says. “You need a cake and this is Gloria and Marshall’s gift. It would be rude to refuse.”
“Okay,” Lauren says.
Miriam sighs, scribbling on the pad. “After a plate full of chicken wings I refuse to choke down a handful of Gobstoppers.”
“So everything is under way!” Stacy says. “Who knew it would be this easy?”
“Well, certainly not me!” Miriam says, flinging her notebook aside.