A knock on the screen door interrupted. Kelly’s sigh only deepened when she spotted Mary Adams, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, on her doorstep. She was wearing her going-into-battle shopping outfit of linen pants, a silk blouse and sufficient gold jewelry to impress the most difficult salesclerk. As stifling hot as it was, she looked cool and unrumpled.
“Enough of that, you two,” Mary said briskly as she entered without waiting for permission. “It’s ridiculous enough that you’ve only given a week’s notice for this wedding, we can’t go wasting time on nonsense.”
Kelly gazed helplessly into Jordan’s eyes and mouthed, Do something!
Jordan stood. He towered over his petite mother, but his size clearly didn’t intimidate her.
“Out of my way,” she commanded. “I need to see the kitchen.”
“Why?” Kelly inquired suspiciously.
“To let the caterer know what’s possible and what isn’t.”
“I was thinking we’d have those little cocktail wieners and maybe some potato chips,” Jordan said. “Maybe a big old platter of barbecued ribs.”
His mother simply scowled at his teasing as she breezed past. Kelly trailed along in her wake, tugging Jordan with her. Why hadn’t they eloped to Vegas as Jordan originally suggested? It would have been better than this armed invasion of strangers that Jordan’s mother had planned.
Mary Adams glanced at Kelly. “What about your dress? Perhaps we should have Harlan’s pilot fly us over to Dallas this afternoon. I’m sure we could find something on short notice at Neiman-Marcus.”
The suggestion explained Mary’s attire. Kelly balked at going anywhere to buy anything. “I have a dress,” she said adamantly.
Mary looked aghast. “You’re planning to pluck something out of your closet? This is your wedding, for heaven’s sake, and Jordan does have a certain status to maintain. What you wear will reflect on him.”
The comment grated. “Jordan,” Kelly said sweetly, “could I see you in the living room?”
She noticed when she finally had him alone that his eyes were sparkling with pure mischief.
“A problem, sweet pea?”
“If your mother does not back off, I swear to you that I’m going to wear jeans for this wedding and serve lemonade and store-bought cookies.”
Jordan pulled her against him. “Sounds perfect to me.”
She studied him intently, not sure whether she could trust the dead-serious note in his voice. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Actually, I’d rather like to see the governor’s face as he sips lemonade and munches a handful of Oreo cookies. He’d probably prefer it over the rubber chicken and hard little peas he usually gets.”
Kelly sighed. “He might be perfectly content, but your mother’s likely to flip out.”
“Sweetheart, it’s our wedding. The details are entirely up to you. Just tell me what time you want me here and I’ll show up. I could care less about the rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Any idea how many people your mother has invited?”
“Nope,” he admitted.
“Maybe I’d better ask that before I get too independent here,” she said, calmer now that she knew Jordan was in her corner no matter what she decided.
She went back to the kitchen where she found her future mother-in-law tsk-tsking at the size of the stove and refrigerator.
“Kelly, I think it’s time for new appliances, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed without hesitation. Her parents had bought the current ones years ago and they were clearly on their last legs. “But I thought fixing the roof and painting were more important.”
The concept of budgetary constraint was clearly beyond Mary’s comprehension. “Yes, but this is something you can’t put off. I can’t possibly have the caterer do anything the least bit elaborate without a decent stove or refrigerator.” She jotted a note to herself. “I’ll take care of it this afternoon. Do you want white again?”
Kelly moved in front of her. “No new stove and no new refrigerator,” she said quietly, even though her stomach was churning and her blood was heating to a boil. “This is a wedding, not a home show.”
“But what about hot hors d’oeuvres? And your freezer won’t even hold a spare pint of ice cream, much less the ice sculpture I’ve ordered.”
“It’s ninety degrees outside. Why would you order an ice sculpture in the first place?”
Mary Adams stopped in her tracks and stared. “You intend for everyone to eat outside? My dear, people will be perspiring,” she declared as if that were the worse tragedy that could possibly befall anyone. “You simply cannot ask them to deal with all the dust, to say nothing of this sweltering hot weather. Their clothes will be ruined.”
“How many people have you invited?” Kelly countered.
Mary avoided looking her in the eye. “Just a few. You did say you wanted it kept small.”
“How many?”
“A hundred, more or less.”
Kelly gulped. It was even worse than she’d suspected. “That’s what you consider small?”
Mary seemed oblivious to Kelly’s distress. “Of course, given Jordan’s status, there are business considerations, as well as old friends and family,” she informed her future daughter-in-law. “I cut it as best I could.”
Kelly had guessed the number would be half that high, which was precisely why she’d considered the possibility of an outdoor celebration. This clinched it.
“I see,” she said, rather proud of how calm she managed to sound. “And where do you expect these hundred people to fit inside the house? If you think it would be stifling outside, imagine them all crammed in here without air-conditioning.”
“Without air-conditioning?” Mary sank down onto a kitchen chair. “Oh, my, I suppose that is a problem, isn’t it?” She fanned herself with her little leather notebook. “Darling! Jordan, come in here at once!”
Jordan, who’d apparently taken refuge in the living room rather than get caught between his mother and his bride, came into the kitchen. He glanced warily from his mother to Kelly and back again. “What now?”
“I really think there is only one thing to be done,” his mother said briskly, clearly recovered from her momentary shock. “We will have to move the wedding to White Pines.”
“Absolutely not!” Kelly insisted, just as Jordan hurriedly said after one glance at her face, “Now, Mother, let’s
