Wedding Thrashers Read online

  I leapt from the sofa. What was left of Derek’s beer spilled down my blouse and over his khaki trousers.

  Frightened by the commotion, the robins went flying up into the blue sky. If I squinted hard enough, I was pretty sure I’d see my heart fluttering around up there too.

  I grabbed a beige cotton sweater from the hall closet and dabbed wildly at my damp blouse. I threw open the front door of the apartment as my mom was reaching for the knob from the opposite side.

  “Whoa!” She moved aside in the nick of time. “What’s going on, Amy? Where are you off to in such a tizzy?”

  “Sorry, Mom. Getting married!” I smacked my lips against her cool cheek and kept moving.

  “What?” Mom flattened herself against the wall to keep from getting steamrolled. She moved pretty good for a woman in her sixties who is also burdened with adult onset muscular dystrophy. It must be those water aerobics classes she’s started taking at the community center.

  “Where are you going?” shouted Derek, still attached to the sofa.

  I ran slash fell down the stairs faster than I ever had—and that included the time I had found a dead body on the second floor.

  Esther and Kim were right where I’d left them earlier.

  “Where’s the fire?” demanded Esther, hands on hips.

  “Yeah, or in your case, dead body,” teased Kim.

  What can I say? Dead bodies have a way of popping up all around me. It’s a curse.

  I scooted to a stop at the edge of the sales counter. “Derek,” I panted, struggling for breath. Bird watching doesn’t exactly require Olympics-level training.

  “What about Derek?” Kim handed me a glass of water from the cooler.

  Esther leaned toward me and sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

  I sucked the cold water down in one big, noisy gulp. “He asked me to marry him!”

  “That’s wonderful!” Kim raced forward. She slammed into me and wrapped me in a bear hug.

  “Too hard!” I banged my fists against her shoulder blades until she let go.

  “Sure, that’s swell,” agreed Esther. She held a cup of tea in her right hand. “The fact is, I was sure you’d end up an old maid. I mean, once a woman gets to be your age—”

  “Esther!” snapped Kim. My best friend and I share the same age, give or take, both being in our mid-thirties. So she was as sensitive to the whole ticking clock thing as I was.

  Esther, on the other hand, is older than dirt—her words, not mine.

  “That’s okay,” I laughed. “Tease me all you want. I’m getting married.”

  Kim hugged me anew. “This calls for a celebration!”

  “When?” Esther demanded.

  “When what?” asked Kim.

  “When is the wedding date? When are you getting married, Amy?”

  “I…it’s…I’ll be right back!”

  I dashed up the stairs to the third floor, taking them three or four at a time. Who’s counting?

  Derek and Mom were seated on the couch chatting. Mom had a big grin on her face.

  “Hey, Amy. I was just telling Barbara how—”

  I held up a hand and cut him off. “When?”

  Derek furrowed his brow. “When what?”

  “When are we getting married?”

  “Oh, uh…I don’t know.” Derek looked helplessly from me to my mother. “Next year?”

  “A whole year?”

  Mom threw up her hands. “Don’t look at me. This is between the two of you. Of course, I am more than happy to help in any way that I can.”

  “The fifteenth,” I blurted out.

  “The fifteenth?” echoed Derek, clearly confused.

  “Yes, June fifteenth. This year. That’s the date Mom and Dad got married. Right, Mom?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “That will give us plenty of time to prepare.” A couple of months anyway.

  Derek nodded. “I suppose that might—”

  “Great.” I clapped my hands and flew out the open door. How I got downstairs after that, I do not remember. Maybe I flew. Maybe I took some secret passage or a portal through another dimension. It didn’t matter.

  What mattered was that I was getting married. To Derek Harlan. On June the fifteenth.

  3

  I could picture the wedding invitations already. Please join us in celebrating the marriage between Amy Hester Simms and Derek Benjamin Harlan to be wed on this fair day…

  “June fifteenth,” I blurted to Esther and Kim, bursting in as they helped a pair of well-dressed women choose a brown and green nesting and roosting box made of recycled plastics. All four women looked at me like I was crazy, the two customers more so than Kim and Esther. Those two knew me.

  “Would you mind ringing these things up, Esther?” Kim handed Esther a small nesting box that was perfect for wrens.

  The small birds aren’t picky when it comes to nesting but prefer boxes with openings no more than about an inch and an eighth. Being cavity nesting birds, they will also make themselves at home in jars, old leather shoes, woodpecker-created holes and just about anything else that strikes their fancy.

  “I guess not.” Esther grudgingly carried the nesting box to the sales counter. One of the customers carried a matching one for herself.

  “You are going to need a fifty-pound sack of birdseed,” I heard Esther say. “I’ll add that to your orders. One sack each. And you’ll both need mounting posts for the birdhouses. And mounting brackets and screws.”

  The cash register went ka-ching!

  “And baffles.”

  Ka-ching!

  “What are baffles?” one of the women made the mistake of asking. She was clearly baffled herself.

  Esther explained. “They’re made of metal, aluminum, I think. You wrap them around your mounting poles. You’re gonna need the baffles to keep the nasty snakes and squirrels from climbing up into your nesting boxes.”

  The two women clutched their purses and looked uneasily at one another. “Snakes?” echoed the first woman with an accompanying shudder. “I don’t like the idea of snakes in the yard. It was bad enough seeing them loose in that plane in that movie. Couldn’t fly for months. You remember that movie, Janet?”

  “I do,” answered Janet of the red hat. “Is all this really necessary?”

  “You don’t want the nasty snakes and squirrels eating your baby birdies, do you?” Esther rattled her fingers along the countertop.

  “Of course not,” answered red hat lady.

  “I didn’t think so. I’ll grab you a couple of our best baffles from the storeroom.”

  I sighed. Watching Esther in action could be painful. Then again, it could also be quite profitable. The woman was all about the up sell.

  “Amy?”

  I felt a tug at my sleeve. “What is it, Kim?”

  “First, congratulations and everything.”

  “Thank you.” I plucked at my shirt. “I’m going to clean myself up.” With a smile that I couldn’t have scraped off my face if I tried, I walked to the rear of the store with Kim at my heels.

  Birds & Bees offers a cozy kitchenette and lounge area for employees and customers alike. Every day we laid out coffee, tea and other beverages along with a sweet treat or two to nibble on. Anything to keep our customers happy and coming back for more.

  A small bookshelf purchased at a church thrift sale held our modest lending library of bird-, bee- and nature-related reading material.

  I plopped the beer splattered sweater in the sink and opened the spigot. All the while, my heart was racing like a racehorse sprinting around the track. I was getting married. To the most wonderful man in the whole world.

  Kim snatched a sugar cookie and nibbled at the edges.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You don’t look so happy.”

  Kim glanced at her feet. Always a bad sign.

  “Hey, what is it?” I bit my lip in thought. Suddenly, I understood. “I get it. I’m getting married and you’re st
ill waiting for Dan to ask you.”

  I wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “You know Dan loves you, Kim. He moves slowly. That’s all. I’ll bet he asks you any day now.”

  “No.” Kim shook her head. “That’s not it.”

  “It’s not?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Then what’s up?”

  “You did say the fifteenth?”

  “Yeah…”

  “June fifteenth?”

  “That’s it.” I beamed. “Mark that date in your calendar, baby. You are my maid of honor.”

  “Thanks. There is just one little thing.” She held up one finger.

  “What’s that? And why am I getting a feeling that I am not going to like it?”

  Kim took a deep breath then said, “June fifteenth is the date that Amy Harlan is getting married.”

  For a minute, all time and sound stopped. It was a real freak of nature. And physics.

  I barely understood nature. And I have never understood physics.

  “She stole my wedding date?”

  “Technically, I’m not sure that you could say she stole—”

  “That bi—” I noticed more customers in the store and they were within hearing distance. “That woman stole my wedding date?” I hissed.

  “Calm down, Amy.” Kim reached for me. “I’m not sure you could really say she stole your wedding date. And is it really that important?”

  “It’s my wedding date. It was Mom and Dad’s wedding date. Why didn’t Derek tell me?”

  “Did you give him a chance? It seems to me you were running up and down those stairs like you’re training for the Empire State Building Run-up.”

  “This is so unfair!”

  “Shh. Keep your voice down.”

  “Don’t mind her, folks,” Esther barked from across the sales floor. “Amy gets that way when she hasn’t had her cookie. Have a cookie, Amy!”

  “I don’t want a cookie. I want to get married. On June the fifteenth.” I folded my arms and pouted.

  Derek and I had agreed to meet up later for dinner at Brewer’s Biergarten. With the brewpub only steps from my place, I arrived first. I sidled up to the bar while I waited.

  I ordered a glass of Chablis and spilled my troubles and woes to the bartender on duty, Connie.

  “Look at the bright side,” Connie said, holding a stemmed glass up to the light while rubbing it with a bar towel. “You’re getting married.” She slotted the glass on the hanging rack and reached for another off the tray on the back bar. “Derek is a great guy. You couldn’t do better.”

  “I know.” I planted my elbows on the polished wood bar top and stared into my wine glass. A shadow appeared on my right followed by the intense and overpowering scent of spicy cologne.

  “You look like you just lost your best friend,” said the stranger.

  I turned a glum eye to him. The middle-aged man towering over me and extending far too close for comfort into my personal space was a tall, rail-thin man with a cream-colored ten-gallon cowboy hat stuck to a long, rectangular head.

  His suit was beige, almost yellow. His eyes were dark brown like those of a barred owl.

  Like the barred owl, I immediately got the vibe that this guy liked to do his hunting at night.

  “Do you mind?” Without waiting for my reply, he slid onto the stool beside me. “Scotch and soda,” he said to Connie.

  “Sorry, no hard alcohol. Beer and wine only.”

  “Okay.” He slapped his right hand on the bar top. “Whatever you’ve got on tap. The darker the better.”

  “Yes, sir.” Connie rolled her eyes for my benefit and wandered off to the taps where she was waylaid by a couple waiting for their appetizers.

  “My name’s Tim.” He extended a tanned hand adorned with a black onyx fraternity ring.

  “Amy,” I replied, taking a small sip of my wine. I heard the front door open and glanced toward it hoping to see Derek. No such luck.

  “Amy? Huh. How about that.” He touched the brim of his hat and ran his finger along the edge. “I hate to be forward but seeing as I am only in town for a few days and I don’t know a darn soul, how about you and me having a little dinner?”

  He gave me what I expected he considered his sexiest, come-hither smile. “This place doesn’t look like the food could kill you. What do you say, Amy?”

  Connie settled a tall, perspiring frothy mug of beer down in front of him with an extra hard bang before moving away.

  “I say I am engaged to be married. But thanks, anyway.” I jumped off my barstool and ran to the front of the restaurant to greet Derek as he entered. In my hurry to escape, I left my Chablis at the bar.

  Derek and I smooched and, despite the chill in the air, I insisted on being seated at a table outdoors in the courtyard. I wanted to be as far away from Tim with his ten-gallon hat and twenty-gallon ego as I could.

  “It’s so not fair,” I griped over drinks and wood-fired pizza.

  “I know.” Derek waved to our waiter for another pitcher of IPA.

  “That woman is always ruining my life.” I knew I wasn’t being completely rational. Amy Harlan had moved to Ruby Lake with Maeve, which had prompted Derek to move to town as well—that and the fact that his father, Ben Harlan, had recently semiretired here. If she hadn’t moved to Ruby Lake from Charlotte, Derek and I would likely never have met.

  As everyone in Ruby Lake knew, Derek and I had met when Chief Kennedy had locked me up on suspicion of murder soon after I had moved back to town. Mom called Ben Harlan for legal assistance and one thing led to another.

  Funny thing was, when I had first laid eyes on Derek, I could immediately see how handsome he was. And I got the feeling he was flirting with me.

  But—and it was a big one—I also thought he was married at the time. That had made him a cad in my book and since my book was already filled with a cad of the first order, Craig Bigelow, I had valiantly resisted Derek’s charms.

  Things were different now. And, rational or not, I considered myself wholly within my rights to claiming Amy-the-ex was the source of many, if not all, of my current woes.

  Plus, she’d had the audacity to open her shop, Dream Gowns, right next door to the law offices of Harlan & Harlan.

  If that wasn’t an act of war, I didn’t know what was.

  “Sorry about that,” Derek said in response to my grousing about his ex. He refilled my glass and pushed it gently my way. Next, he dumped a third slice of mushroom and artichoke pizza onto my plate.

  I took a half-hearted bite. “There is something else that I forgot to ask you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Is Maeve okay with us getting married?”

  “Of course, she is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Derek reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “She adores you.”

  “Me, too.” I brushed back a tear. “I mean, I adore her.”

  “I know. And I love you for it.” Derek dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I only hope she gets along half as well with Tom.”

  “Are there problems?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. But still…”

  “I’m sure everything will work out fine. Does Tom have children of his own?”

  “Possibly. He’s a bit older.” Derek shrugged, sipped his brew, looking troubled. Maeve was his baby girl. I got that completely.

  Then Derek took my hands and hit me with a lightning bolt.

  “Let’s get married now.”

  4

  “What?” The world collapsed down to a small point. Me, Derek and a table. I couldn’t see or hear anything else.

  “I said, let’s get married. We could elope. Fly to Vegas.”

  I forced myself to breathe. “Yes, I mean, no. I can’t. It would kill Mom. You know I’m her only child. She’s been dreaming about my wedding since the day I was born. I can’t disappoint her. She’s done so much for me.”

  I sucked a half inch of foam from my beer mug. “So if you insist on us flying
to Vegas to get hitched by some tacky Elvis impersonator, you’d better buy a pair of one-way tickets. Because there won’t be any coming back, mister.”

  “Yeah, I get that. It was just a thought.”

  “And a sweet one.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Derek signalled our waitress for the check. “Come back to my place?” Derek’s place was a cozy little apartment upstairs of his law offices. Convenient for getting to work but also far too convenient for Amy-the-ex to come wandering over from Dream Gowns whenever she liked. Once we got married, Derek could move in with me. My place was the bigger of the two.

  “Love to.”

  Paul Anderson intercepted the young woman and sent her away. “Dinner is on me, lovebirds.” He shook Derek’s hand and kissed me on the cheek. The restaurateur was about my age with a shock of wavy brown hair and wicked brown eyes. He preferred tight black jeans and tight black tee shirts bearing the Brewer’s Biergarten name and logo.

  “Thanks,” said Derek. He pulled some cash out of his wallet and left a big tip for our server. “Awfully generous of you. What’s the occasion?”

  “Your wedding, of course,” replied Paul.

  “You heard already?” I said.

  “Are you kidding? That’s life in a small town, Amy. You ought to know that.”

  Paul was right. I ought to. I had grown up here. He was a newbie.

  “Wait until I tell Craig,” Paul went on. “He doesn’t know yet, does he?”

  “Nope. Not unless the small town grapevine runs all the way to Raleigh.”

  “Great.” Paul rubbed his hands gleefully. “I can’t wait to be the one to break the news to him.”

  “Go for it,” I said. I would have loved to have seen Craig’s face when he broke the news. Craig Bigelow is my ex-boyfriend. He and I had dated longer than I had ever dated anyone previously. Because I had often boasted about the Town of Ruby Lake while dating Craig, he had decided to open the biergarten here with his partner, Paul, managing the place. Much to my displeasure.

  Fortunately, Craig himself was a rare visitor.

  At one point, I thought Craig and I might marry. What a fool I had been.

  Craig is tall, dark and handsome, with an MBA degree that I helped pay for. Unfortunately, he is also a jerk. A two-timing jerk. Breaking up with him and moving home to Ruby Lake was the best thing that I had ever done.