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Brenda flinched.
“—and Evie’s cousin Wesley’s marvelous photographs, and Palmer’s fraternity brother’s uncle’s band, and it’s going to be so perfect, so traditional and yet new.”
“Well, that’s very sweet, Maria,” Brenda said, “but?—”
Shut up, Brenda, Agnes thought, seeing the red light behind Maria’s eyes, so like the light in Lisa Livia’s before the carnage began.
“And it will be all of that,” Maria said, her voice rising, “because it will all be tied together by our theme, the symbol of Palmer’s and my future.”
“Theme?” Evie said, surprised.
“Theme?” Brenda said, confused.
“Oh, God,” Agnes said, bracing herself.
Maria smiled at Palmer, out on the lawn, gazing at the grass.
“Grass?” Agnes said, thinking, Green, I could fake green by Saturday.
“Flamingos,” Maria said.
“What the hell?” Brenda said, startled.
“You’re joking, of course,” Evie said.
“Pink,” Agnes said, thinking, Pink, I can fake pink by Saturday.
Maria opened her bag and took out an eight-inch virulently pink plastic flamingo and slapped it on the table. “Isn’t it just hysterical? It’s a pen. Dina Delvecchio sent it to me when she found out that Palmer’s big successful golf course is called the Flamingo. See, the feet are like the holder, and you pull the pen out?—”
“Dina Delvecchio?” Evie said, grasping at straws since the flamingo was probably beyond comprehension.
“Maria’s maid of honor,” Agnes said, staring at the flamingo pen. “Bless her heart” Goddammit, Brenda, you had to open your mouth, didn’t you?
“—and we glue the place cards to the beaks,” Maria went on. “They’re only seventy-five cents each, so they’re cheap, too, Grandma. You’ll like that”
“That’s seventy-five bucks for place cards,” Brenda said, looking at the pink plastic with horror.
“And they double as party favors,” Maria said virtuously. “I already ordered them, Agnes. They’ll be here Thursday.”
“Maria,” Evie said, staring in horror at the plastic flamingo.
“So, flamingos,” Agnes said. It was awful, but it was at Two Rivers, so she was for it Marginally. “Arriving Thursday.”
“And here’s the best part.” Maria held up the dress bag. “My dress. Or Grandma Brenda’s dress.”
“Don’t call me Grandma,” Brenda said.
“The big trend now is in colored wedding dresses,” Maria said, unzipping the bag. “So ...”
She pulled off the bag and revealed an old-fashioned meringue wedding dress with a huge puffy skirt canopied with lace and bows.
All of it dyed flamingo pink.
“That’s my wedding dress!” Brenda said, standing up and knocking over her chair.
“I know,” Maria said, beaming. “I’m going to wear it just like you wanted. Brenda.”
Okay, Agnes thought, sitting down in relief. There was no way in hell Maria would wear that horror of a dress anywhere. This was payback. She met Maria’s eyes and said, “Fabulous idea. It’ll be the talk of the county,” and Maria said, “Well, I think so.”
