Page 64 of The Wedding Favor

“Let’s get this party started,” the sixteen-year-old DJ yelled from the corner of the room. He was Mr. Staple’s grandson and, therefore, cheap.

“Look at you two.” Gloria glided our way. “You’re just perfect.”

“What are you wearing?” It was a confection of a dress, pale pink with ruffles and flounces for days. Mounds of petticoats, maybe even a hoop underneath the skirt.

“Is that how you greet a friend?” Gloria produced a folded fan from somewhere. Honestly, that skirt was big enough to hide an entire elementary school of students… and their parents. With a flick of her wrist, the fan expanded and she waved it furiously. “Really, Iris.”

“Did you get that thing at Scarlett O’Hara-R-Us?”

“I got it several years ago when a costume shop went out of business. I’ve never had a chance to wear it, but this seemed like the perfect time.”

“You know the theme is 1940s, not 1840s.”

She tapped my shoulder with her fan. “Of course, darling. But you only live once and time is ticking.”

Hallie hadn’t taken her eyes off Gloria, a look of wonder on her face. “You look like a princess. Like a real live princess.”

Gloria laughed. “Then you shall be my lady-in-waiting. Do you know what that is?”

Hallie shrugged but she took the hand Gloria offered. As they walked away, I could hear Gloria explaining that a lady’s maid kept the princess “entertained” and that was her job this evening.

“That dress has to weigh more than she does,” Abe said.

“She likes to make an entrance, if you couldn’t tell. Let’s go get something to drink.” We took the most direct route to the refreshments but that didn’t keep everyone from stopping us every other step just to say hello, aiming suspicious glances at Abe.

At the refreshments table, Jonathan was there, dressed in his nice plaid shirt and clutching a cup of punch. He rarely came to these things; nothing but nonsense, he liked to say. Although Elizabeth, his wife, often shut the dance down with her moves. I liked to imagine she’d steamrolled right over him when they met. He hadn’t stood a chance against her.

He took one look at Abe, lingering on his ear gauges, and his expression turned sour. “Who is this?”

“This is Abe, Hallie’s father. You met her at BINGO night.”

He grunted.

“Abe, this ray of sunshine is Jonathan Clark.”

“Hi, Mr. Clark, I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to mow your lawn when I was a kid.”

“I don’t know about that. I surely would have remembered all those”—he waved a hand in Abe’s general direction—“things. You look like a criminal.”

“To be fair, I was ten. I hadn’t turned to a life of crime yet.”

“What are your intentions with Iris here?”

“I think that’s obvious. I plan to kidnap her and hide her in my attic.”

Jonathan pointed a finger in Abe’s face. “Don’t even think about it. Iris is a nice girl. Of course, she’s a terrible dresser and can’t dance worth a damn and those blue streaks make her look like a clown⁠—”

“I know who I’m asking to write my next dating profile,” I muttered.

“—but she’s got a good heart, that one. I’ll not stand around while some… some ragamuffin corrupts her.”

“I promise I’ll be very careful with her heart,” Abe said solemnly.

Jonathan leaned in. “You better do just that. It’s not an empty threat. I know people.” He took a finger and ran it across his throat. With that, he turned on his heels and stomped off without waiting for a reply.

“He seems nice,” Abe said, amusement flashing in his eyes.

“I have no idea what that was about,” I said. “He mostly just rants about the state of our youth and argues with his wife.”