Garrett flipped the last few pieces of chicken and turned away from the stove. “Fold back the top sheet and sprinkle them over the bottom sheet.”
“Really?”
“Sure. They’ll smell nice and the red will look pretty against the white sheets.”
“Shouldn’t I wash them, first?”
Leo’s shoulders began to shake and he let out a snort.
“I know that sounds ridiculous, but these came off the ground and I’m pretty sure Henri uses manure on those roses.”
“That’s a valid point I hadn’t considered.” Garrett looked like he was ready to lose it, too. He cleared his throat. “Finish your potato salad and take off. We’ll wash the rose petals and have them waiting for you.”
“You’ll really wash them, right? You won’t just say you did.”
“We’ll really wash them. We’ll—”
“Wait!” Leo’s eyes widened. “You can’t wash them in the sink, dude. He’s right about the manure.”
“Then we’ll wash them in the shower.”
“How?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“I say CJ should forget the petals, or pluck some off the ones in the vase.”
“No way am I plucking those roses baldheaded. Not after I stuck myself about twenty times cutting them and putting them in the vase. Gonna hurt like hell next time I play my guitar.”
“No worries, CJ,” Garrett said. “Leo and I will wash the ones in the bowl.”
“Better wash the bowl good, too,” Leo muttered, “or you’ll have cross-contamination.”
CJ sighed. “This rose petal thing better be worth it.”
“It is.” Garrett turned back to the stove.
“Why?” He went to the sink and rinsed his bowl.
Garrett glanced at him. “You’ll find out.”
“If you say so. Thanks for washing the petals. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
“We could save you a couple pieces of chicken,” Leo said.
“Thanks, but the potato salad will do. I’ll need to shower and shave before I head over there and I want to leave myself plenty of time to set up before she gets back.”
“You didn’t ask someone to text you when she’s leaving the party?”
“No, and by now everyone’s there so I don’t want to text anybody now.”
“Kate’s not there yet. She can’t leave until the guest dining room’s shipshape.”
“Good thinking, Leo.” CJ pulled out his phone and sent the request. Kate texted him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, guys. I didn’t think this would turn out to be so complicated.”
“That’s love for you,” Garrett said.
“Yep.” No point in denying he was in up to his eyeballs. “But tonight’s designed to simplify things.” He hurried out to his truck and headed for town.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Third time’s a charm.” Isabel held a mixing bowl full of dried rice in her lap. Signaling Lucy to start the timer, she closed her eyes and plunged her hand into the rice. “I have you, my pretty!” She slid a safety pin to the rim of the bowl. Except it wasn’t a pin. Just a few grains of rice. “Auugghh!”
Josette threw her hands in the air. “C’est diabolique!”
“You said it.” Isabel handed the bowl to Ed, the last contestant. “Can’t believe I couldn’t locate one out of…how many?”
“I put in twenty,” Pam said. “But now there’s only nineteen since I….”
“Yeah, yeah.” Peggy stretched her long legs in front of her and took a sip from her hard cider. “Admit it. You practiced all afternoon.”
“I can’t help it if I’m blessed with a sophisticated sense of touch.” Pam had pinned it to the collar of her Western shirt like a badge. It winked in the light from paper lanterns strung overhead in Henri’s backyard.
“I’m sure as hell practicing before we play this again,” Red grumbled. “And we are playing it again next week so I can redeem myself.”
“I vote for that,” Henri said. “We’ll save the rice and pins in a Ziploc and schedule a rematch next week.”
“I volunteer to keep the Ziploc,” Millie toyed casually with a lock of her red hair, her expression innocent.
“Nice try, girlfriend.” Kate grinned. “You don’t get the rice and pins.”
“Technically they’re my rice and pins,” Pam said. “So I should—”
“Sorry.” Peggy shook her head. “This rice and pin combo is hereby declared the official property of the Babes. It goes in Henri’s safe.”
“Ah,” Josette said, “but can Henri be trusted?”
“I can, but I couldn’t cram one more thing in that safe. Unless you want to tuck the bag of rice inside our autographed Tim McGraw Stetson.”
A chorus of noooo ended that discussion.
“We’ll let the Brotherhood keep it.” Pam walked over to a washtub full of drinks and pulled out a bottle of cider. “Isabel, can I offer you a virgin one of these?”
“Sure, thanks.”
After twisting off the top, Pam brought it over. “I’m sorry you didn’t find a pin. It’s harder than it looks. I—”
“Got it!” Ed held up a safety pin. “On the second try! Which means I get one more chance.” She pinned the trophy on her collar and signaled Lucy. “Go.” She shoved her hand in the rice.
All conversation stopped. The only sounds were the chirp of crickets and the rustle of Ed sifting the rice.
“Bingo!” Ed held up a second pin. Grinning in triumph, she stuck it on the other side of her collar. “Now I’m balanced.”
Pam stared at her in open-mouthed shock. “You said you’d never played this!”
“That’s a fact. I like it, though. Fun game.”
“Only you, Ed.” Peggy gave her a bemused smile. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”
“Tons of things. Evidently this isn’t one of them.”
“I’ve played this a bunch of times,” Pam said. “I’ve never seen a first-timer snag two pins.”
Ed settled back in her lawn chair. “Well, now you have. What do I get?”
“Oh!” Henri left her chair. “I forgot I picked up something for prizes. Be right back.”
Ed leaned over toward Isabel. “I love getting prizes.”
“I understand you’ve won quite a few.”
“Last month she got another trophy,” Josette said. “Took first place in a barrel racing competition in Billings.”
“Your third place is nothing to sneeze at, Josie.” Ed gave her a thumbs-up. “And the rest of you were this close to placing.” She measured a fraction of
