and her dress was the most elaborate and farthest from completion. Jane was rummaging through her notebooks for Eden's telephone number when the young woman arrived.
“I hope you're Eden Matthews,' Jane said to her. 'I was about to set up a search party.'
“And you must be Jane Jeffry. I'm sorry I'm late. Car problems,' Eden said breezily. She dumped a large suitcase in the front hall, evidently certain that it would be handled from here on by someone else. 'The old lodge never changes,' she said, strolling into the main room. 'I'm going to hate seeing this old place torn down. I've spent a good deal of time here over the years.'
“You're an old friend of Livvy's, aren't you?' Jane said.
Eden made a 'so-so' motion with her hand.'We've known each other all our lives,' she said. 'Our fathers are best friends and business associates. Ah, this is the best chair in the place,' she said, flopping down on a deep leather armchair.
Jane was surprised at Eden's appearance. They'd never met before, only talked on the phone, but Eden had a very soft voice and Jane had formed a totally unfounded impression that Eden was small and meek. But she was a tall, well-rounded glamour girl — reminiscent of a young Farrah Fawcett, but with a voluptuous figure. Lots of artfully tousled hair, stunning teeth, perfect skin, and a runway model's walk.
The bridesmaid dress she'd chosen — a mass of draped ruffles cascading down from a deep neckline — now made sense. Tall, gorgeous, long-striding Eden was going to make poor Livvy look like Cinderella before the Fairy Godmother took her in hand. It was hard to outshine a bride, but Jane suspected Eden was going to do just that.
Jane was about to launch into a nag about dress fittings when Eden said, 'So poor little Livvy really is going to marry Dwayne, the gas station attendant? She hasn't backed out yet?'
“Backed out! Not after all my work, she won't. The groom works at a gas station?' Jane asked.
Eden laughed softly. 'No, he just looks like it. Sexy as hell, I have to admit, but greasy-looking. Like a gigolo at a cheap casino. But then' — she held up a finger and moved it back and forth like a metronome—'the clock is ticking. Livvy's nearly thirty and it's time to provide grandsons.”
Jane sat down across from Eden. 'You don't like her, do you?”
Eden looked shocked. 'I
Jane, who had a sister she wasn't crazy about, nearly objected to this premise.
“—but mostly I feel sorry for her,' Eden went on. 'She's so vanilla custard, poor thing. So obedient. Jack Thatcher, her father, has thoroughly damped down any spirit or personality she might have had. She's spent her whole life trying to please him.”
Eden stared at a moose head on the opposite wall and went on, more to herself than to Jane, 'I remember when we were about seven years old. We came out here for the weekend and Livvy and I wandered off to play. We found some perfectly luscious mud and had a great time making absolute messes of ourselves. When we got back, Jack went ballistic. She'd ruined her dress, she was a mess, he was ashamed to have a daughter who could make such a pig of herself.
“Livvy cried for the entire weekend. I never saw her with so much as a smudge on her face or a wrinkle in her clothes again. And I never heard her laugh again, except politely.'
“That's very sad,' Jane said. 'Does her father approve of Dwayne?'
“Good question. I don't suppose he cares much one way or the other. It's Livvy who has to live with him. Jack will probably just ignore him — aslong as some handsome, healthy, intelligent grandsons come along pretty soon. And I'm sure Jack's arranged for a prenuptial agreement that would result in Dwayne standing in the cold in his Jockey shorts if the marriage doesn't work out or the grandsons don't appear promptly.'
“Grandsons mean so much to him?'
“Oh, yes. Livvy is just the stopgap between him and the next generation of male Thatchers.”
“Livvy's his only child, right?'
“Now she is. There was a son. A year or two older than Livvy. The light of Jack's life, my dad said. But he died when Livvy was just a baby. Of mumps, of all things. And Jack, who hadn't had mumps as a child, got it too. My dad said Jack nearly went crazy when the little boy died and Jack realized he'd never be able to father a replacement.'
“And Livvy's mother? What about her?' Jane asked.
“She was a nice woman, meek and pretty like Livvy. But she died of breast cancer when Livvy was about five. Poor Livvy. If she had to have a husband, I don't know why she couldn't have made a better choice.'
“We don't always fall in love with the best choice,' Jane said, thinking about her own ill-fated marriage.
“Love? I don't think it's love. It's necessity. As I say, the clock is ticking. Oh, dear, is that the aunties' shrill voices I hear?”
The voices in the front hall sounded a bit like outraged chickens squabbling over a choice piece of corn.
“Probably. They weren't supposed to come until tomorrow, but insisted on coming today.' Jane and Eden got up and went to meet the newcomers.
The two tiny elderly ladies were virtually indistinguishable except for their hair. One had a snowy white do that towered over her like an impossibly fluffy cloud. The other had the identical style, but in a maroon red verging on purple that never grew from a human head. Jane wondered if they got a discount on the two dreadful wigs. They looked like something from a Disney cartoon.
“Auntie Iva,' Eden said, bending down to hug the maroon one.
“Darling Eden,' the old lady cooed. 'You get taller every time I see you.”
The white-wigged one was scrabbling at Eden's sleeve for her share of attention.
“Auntie Marguerite, you look divine,' Eden said, and quickly added, 'You both do.”
Eden introduced them to Jane. 'Miss Iva Thatcher, Mrs. Marguerite Rowe,' she said quite formally, 'this is Jane Jeffry, the lady who has put together Livvy's wedding.”
The bright smiles with which they'd greeted Eden faded to scowls. 'Yes, Mrs. Jeffry' Iva said coldly. 'Livvy told us you were doing all the arrangements. We offered to plan the wedding ourselves. We are, after all, her aunts. Her only female relatives. The substitutes for her own dear, departed mother. But she preferred to have a complete stranger arrange the most important day of her life.”
Before Jane could compose any reply, Eden jumped in. 'But my dears, Livvy told me she wanted you two to be the guests of honor. You can't ask a guest of honor to do all the drudgery. Livvy wanted you to just sail in and thoroughly enjoy yourselves without having to fret over whether the flowers had arrived or the dresses fitted.”
Eden turned and winked at Jane, but Jane didn't need the wink to know that Eden was lying through her spectacular teeth.
“Well, there is that aspect,' Aunt Marguerite said. 'It's so like Livvy to want to spare us trouble. Such a dear girl. And she's marrying such a handsome man.'
“Get your mind out the gutter,' Iva snapped.
Marguerite glowered. 'Just because I'm not a dried-up spinster like some I could name—'
“I could have had as good a husband as you did, dear,' Iva came back, 'if I'd been foolish enough to believe that fake English accent and—'
“Now, my dears, let's don't have any tiffs,' Eden said. Jane was surprised to learn that Eden could speak quite loudly when the occasion demanded it.
“Let me show you to your rooms,' Jane said. 'Oh, we know where they are. Just up the stairs,' Iva said.
“No, actually, those rooms are taken,' Jane said, resisting the urge to wring her hands in despair.
“But we always stay in the big center room,' Marguerite said.
“I had to put the seamstress in there so there would be room for her sewing,' Jane explained.
“The seamstress is still sewing? Here?' Iva screeched. 'Well, I can tell you if I'd been in charge, those dresses would have been done weeks ago. Still, we'll take one of the rooms next to it.”
Jane sighed. She wasn't a confrontational person, but she was going to have to make clear just who
“That's quite impossible,' Jane said, looking Iva straight in the eye. 'Livvy's father will be in one of the rooms. He is, after all, the owner of the house and the man who's paying for the wedding, and the bride gets the
