“You want to have a garden party?” Why did my grandmother insist on making more work for me? I needed to be planning my wedding, not to mention I’d just received my private investigator license and wanted to find something to investigate.
“I thought it might be a good way to get the women of this community together. Form some friendships.” Grandma grinned. “Bring back a bit of the good ole days. We’ll wear floppy hats and drink from china teacups. Joyce can make us finger sandwiches.”
The chef would be thrilled. Not. While she often made food for the residents outside of the three meals a day, she grumbled about it. Loudly.
“When are you wanting this party?”
“Saturday.”
“This Saturday? As in three days from now?”
“Yes, I’ve already handed the fliers to Sue Ellen to distribute. All we need are tables, umbrellas, food, fine dishes…” she ticked off the items on her fingers. “Your primary job is the floral centerpieces. I’ve taken care of the rest.”
“I grow the flowers, Grandma, not arrange them. And, I have no desire to attend a garden party.”
“Fine. Get me the flowers and I’ll make the centerpieces.” She frowned. “I’m not sure how I’ll get it all done on my own. And, you will be there. You’re a female member of this community, you know.”
Ugh. Yes, I would be there. “Then you should have given me more notice so I could have made time in my schedule.” I drained my glass of orange juice and stood. “Most of my rose bushes are blooming. I can get you a variety of color.” I planted a kiss on her powdered cheek and headed for the golf cart waiting outside the dining room door.
I drove around the grounds, taking note of roses in red, pink, yellow, white, and every color in-between. Most were ready for pruning. I smiled at the expanse of color and the brick walkway that wound through the bushes. One of my biggest accomplishments was the English-styled rose garden with its scattered ornate iron benches. Heath and I had spent many a spring night cuddled among the roses.
I groaned as I saw Alice quickly approaching.
“Shelby Hart!”
I had the strong urge to pretend I hadn’t seen her and drive quickly away from the Shady Acres manager. Instead, I stopped and pasted what I hoped was a pleasant smile on my face. “What’s up?”
“This garden party. I know we can count it as this week’s activity, but what about the men? They have no social gathering. Some are complaining that it is unfair.” She clutched her clipboard to her chest.
“They seriously care?”
“We don’t have double standards here.” She frowned. “Of course they’ll care.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Come up with something.”
“In three days?” I needed my fiancé, Heath, the man I was marrying in a month. Maybe he could help. I agreed to do my best and set off to find him.
I found him hunched over his workbench. “I need you.”
He grinned. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”
I explained about Alice wanting something for the men on Saturday. “I’m drawing a blank.”
“That’s easy. We’ll have a competition at the driving range. Any idea what we can use as a prize?”
“A gift card to a sporting goods store?”
“That’ll work.” He gave me a quick kiss. “The men will be happy, and Alice will be off your back.”
I drove away as happy as a dog who’d gotten into the kitchen garbage and hadn’t been caught.
Whipping up a flier for the golf tournament was as easy as finding the clipart. I headed to the main office and the receptionist who also happened to be my mother, Sue Ellen. “If I make copies of these will you put them in people’s boxes?”
“Sure.” She smiled. “Right along with Grandma’s fliers, which by the way are gaudy and in bad taste. Still, I expect every woman here to show up. Alice is in a dither trying to find a place in the garden where all the dining tables will fit.”
“The flagstone pathway around the fountain. The tables can form a circle.” Did I have to do all the thinking around here?
“That’s why you should take over.” Mom said. She’d been on me for months to try and take over Alice’s job. No thank you. I preferred being outside and wearing slouchy, comfortable clothes every day. Tottering around on heels like a drunken giraffe wasn’t my style.
“Nope, I’m a PI now.” I grinned and headed back outside glad the day’s worry was nothing more than where to have a garden party. Too many of my days in the past had been spent solving a murder.
Of course, once I hung my PI shingle, so to speak, I expected people to be knocking down my door to hire me. Which would be a problem since I already had a job. One that let me live on the grounds rent free. I shrugged. I’d worry about that when the time came.
I drove the golf cart to the dining hall, my stomach rumbling. Despite my small size, I was always hungry and the lunch bell was ringing. Shady Acres provided three meals a day, buffet style, for those who wanted. Most people took the offer.
Heath was already seated at our usual table and glanced up with a smile, waving me over. “Chicken salad sandwich and fruit right here waiting for you.”
“I don’t deserve you.” I sat in the chair next to him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Did you get Saturday squared away?”
“Yes, fliers made and handed to Mom.”
“Which are now in mailboxes,” Mom said, taking her seat across from us. She motioned for her boyfriend, Bob Satchett, a poker buddy of mine, to join us. He glanced from his circle of friends, to her, then came our way.
“Good afternoon, folks.” He sat down, clearly still uncomfortable that his relationship with my mother was out in the open.
At first, I struggled with it, but now that my father’s killer had been identified and put away, I understood it was time for Mom to move on. After all, I was with Heath, and Grandma was marrying Ted, an ex-police officer, once she set a new date. Her last one was canceled because of a murder.
My eyes widened. Surely she wouldn’t want a double wedding with me?
“What’s wrong with you?” Grandma, her ever-present glass of wine in hand, took her seat.
“Nothing.” I ducked my head. She always knew when I was lying.
“Liar, but I’m too busy to dig into why you aren’t being truthful. Ted and I have set our wedding date. It’s May 27.”
And there it was. “This May?”
“Of course. We’ll have matching gowns!”
Heath reached under the table for my hand and gave me a squeeze. “We’ll work it out,” he whispered, his breath tickling my neck.
I nodded, tears of frustration burning my lids, and stabbed a piece of cantaloupe so hard it skittered off my plate and onto the floor.
“Seriously, Shelby.” Grandma shook her head. “I think you’re working too hard. It must be all those murders you’ve solved.”
“That’s it. Yeah.” I picked up the rogue piece of fruit with a napkin and concentrated on eating.
“I was thinking just last night,” she said, “on how we’ve gone a couple of months without a tragedy. Things are getting downright boring.”
“Please don’t say that.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Take up a hobby or something.”
“I have one. Solving crime with Shelby.”
Lord help us all.
“She’s got her license and everything. We’re legit now. Long live the Shady Acres Gumshoes.” Grandma upped her glass and finished her wine. “Well, I’m off to pick Teddy up from the airport. Don’t forget. It’s hats and dresses on Saturday. Ciao!”
I watched her leave, then turned to Mom. “She can’t get married the same day as me!”
“Why not? It’ll make her happy. She’s an old woman.”
I turned to my fiancé. “Well?”
He shrugged. “All I care about is marrying you. I won’t notice anything else.”
While his words were sweet, I wanted to punch him. My first attempt at getting married resulted in the no-good coward ditching me at the altar. I wanted things to be perfect this time around. I had a month to change Grandma’s mind.
After lunch, I knelt on a rubber knee pad and pulled vines that had crawled into places they weren’t wanted. I tossed them in a bucket as I went, my mind on my wedding. I wanted flowers from this garden, and I wanted the ceremony at the gazebo in the center of the maze near the forest. I wanted twinkling lights as I said “I do” at dusk. And I didn’t want to share my day.
Sighing, I got to my feet and wiped the red Arkansas clay from my bright blue rain boots. Maybe if I told Grandma I wanted to be married in overalls and white rain boots, she’d change her mind about a double wedding.
Yep, a little white lie, so to speak, might work after all. Grinning, I climbed back into the golf cart and sped toward home to formulate a plan I’d call “Wedding Day Shelby’s way”.