Josie tried counting to ten to keep her temper. She quit at four. "No, thank you," she said "We want Smash. Amelia asked for him."

"You're letting a ten-year-old dictate your wedding choices?" Lenore didn't hide her disbelief.

"Amelia is eleven," Josie said. "She's happy that Ted and I are marrying, but our marriage will be a big disruption in her life. She asked for Smash, and Ted and I were happy to go along with that. Smash is our choice, too."

She looked at Ted, waiting for him to support her.

"Yum," he said. "My Reuben sandwich with duck fat fries is on its way."

"What are duck fat fries?" Lenore asked.

"Potatoes fried in duck fat," Ted said.

Lenore shuddered delicately. She'd already banned the bread basket and wanted her salad served with the dressing on the side.

There was a lull in the conversation while the server set down their meals.

Josie inhaled the fragrant steam from her soup. "Mm. This tomato bisque smells delicious," she said, hoping to keep the topic safely on food. "How's your lunch, Lenore?"

Ted's mother brushed aside Josie's question like an annoying fly and said, "Will Amelia's father be at your wedding?"

"No," Josie said. "Nate is dead." He was murdered, but Josie wasn't giving Lenore that detail. "But her grandfather, Jack Weekler, will be flying in from Toronto."

Duck fat must have had amazing powers of revival. After three fries, Ted perked up and said, "The rehearsal dinner is the groom's responsibility. Maybe we could have that at the Ritz."

Josie gave her fiance a relieved smile.

"What a splendid idea," Lenore said. "I'll make the reservations right after lunch."

Ted had rescued the difficult meal. They chatted happily about safe subjects after that: Josie's colors-red, white, and pink-to go with the Jewel Box flower display. The dinner table decorations would be big pots of poinsettias. "My best friend, Alyce, will be my matron of honor and Amelia is my junior bridesmaid."

"Very sensible," Lenore said. She glanced at her watch. "Well, if you two don't mind, I'll get the check and then make the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner. Josie, I'll meet with you and your mother tomorrow."

"I'll take Ted back to his car at the clinic," Josie said.

"I'm glad that Molly Deaver won't be lurking in the parking lot," Ted said.

"Oh, she won't bother you again," Lenore said. "That's all taken care of."

Josie hoped her future mother-in-law was right.

Chapter 6.

Tuesday, October 23 "I need to stop by my place right away, Ted," Josie said. "Before I take you back to your car."

Josie was pacing outside the Ritz, waiting for the valet to return with her car. The droopy-brimmed hat made it hard to see Ted. She took it off and held it by the brim.

"Any time," Ted said. "I like your mom. You seem worried. What's wrong?"

"I don't want Jane hearing some twisted version of the scene at the clinic today," Josie said.

"Dr. Chris and Kathy won't talk," Ted said.

"Maybe not, but the waiting room was crowded. You can't believe what the local gossips will do to that juicy story."

"Call her now," Ted said.

"No way I can explain that on the phone," Josie said. "Besides, Mom won't believe you're safe until she personally inspects you for damage."

The tinny notes of "Here Comes the Bride" sounded from Josie's purse.

"You come with your own entrance music now?" Ted asked.

Josie looked embarra.s.sed. "Amelia reprogrammed my cell phone to play the *Wedding March.'" She fished her phone out of her purse and said, "Hi, Mom. What's wrong? Is Amelia hurt? Why are you crying?"

Ted hovered close by, looking concerned. Josie tried to give him both sides of their conversation.

"Good. She's safe," Josie said. "Thanks for picking her up at school. No, Mom, Ted didn't have his throat slashed by a crazy lady."

Ted's eyes widened.

"He's fine. Well, she did cut him, but it was tiny. Really. He wasn't hurt at all. We've just finished lunch. He couldn't eat if his throat was cut. We're on our way to see you now. You can check him out yourself.

"Is our wedding off? Of course not," Josie said. She tried to laugh, but it sounded high-pitched and fake.

"Who told you that? It was Mrs. Mueller, wasn't it?" Josie sighed. "That interfering old bat never gets anything right. No, Mom, Ted is not engaged to another woman. He's never been engaged to anyone, not since he graduated from vet school."

Ted nodded his agreement.

"Yes, that part is true. A bride in a Bentley pushed her way into his clinic this morning. She was wearing a wedding dress, carrying a bouquet and a dog. She interrupted Ted's TV taping. Her name is Molly and she announced that she was marrying Ted, but she isn't. Ted didn't know anything about that wedding. Their romance existed only in her head."

Josie took another deep breath.

"Yes, Mom, that's right. The poor woman is unbalanced. She does need your prayers. The police took her away. No, they didn't take her to a psychiatric hospital. She was arrested for second-degree a.s.sault. Who'd she a.s.sault? Ted. But it's just a scratch. He's okay, Mom. Really."

The conversation was back where it started. Josie saw the valet driving her rattling Honda. Her old car trailed a sleek black Porsche and a shining navy Cadillac. Ted paid the valet while Josie said, "We're on our way, Mom. We'll be home in ten minutes."

The valet opened the dented door to Josie's beater as if it were a luxury car. She tossed her wide-brimmed hat in the back and sank gratefully into the driver's seat.

"I gather there's trouble," Ted said as Josie drove toward her home on Phelan Street.

"Mrs. Mueller got to Mom first with a wild tale that your throat was slashed by your other fiancee."

Ted groaned. "Maybe Festus and I should hide under my desk at the clinic," he said.

"Don't underestimate Mom," Josie said. "She'll have that rumor straightened out in no time-once she confirms you're well. We're almost home."

Maplewood was more than a hundred years old, an inner-ring suburb of St. Louis with generous two- and three-story homes, shady yards made for children to play in, and front porches where people could rock and relax. The late-fall sun was kind to the old homes. It gave the timeworn brick on the two-story Marcus flat a rosy glow.

Jane was outside in the front yard, her face pink with exertion.

"Look at your mom trying to drag those huge pots onto her porch," Ted said. "What's she going to plant in them-oak trees?"

"Mums," Josie said. "She and Mrs. Mueller outdo themselves with their fall-flower displays."

"Those pots are as big as beer kegs," Ted said. "Hurry up, Josie, before she hurts herself."

He didn't wait for Josie to parallel park. As soon as she stopped the car to back it into place, Ted leaped out and ran up the walkway.

Josie didn't have to hear his conversation with Jane. She could see it. Her fiance gave Jane a quick hug, then pried the first pot out of her hands and carried it up the porch steps as if it were foam rubber. Jane tried to carry the other end. Ted shooed her away, then picked up the second pot.

Josie's car seemed safely parked, but she got out to make sure the back b.u.mper didn't cross the boundary of Mrs. Mueller's yard. Their troublesome neighbor believed she owned the street in front of her home and yelled at anyone who dared park in "her" area.

Mrs. M was planted on her porch, arms on her hips, glaring at Josie. From the way her head was tilted, Josie thought Mrs. M was also trying to eavesdrop on Jane and Ted. She locked her car door and heard her mother say, "Well, there is a bag of potting soil, Ted."

"Your car's in the garage, right?" he said. "I'll go get it."

"You don't have to do that," Jane protested, but not too much. Josie thought her mother looked pleased.

Amelia came around from the garage, balancing a cardboard box of bronze mums. Josie's daughter was tall for her age. Her flat little-girl's body was rounding into womanly curves. Her personality was changing, too, and not always for the better. Josie was glad Amelia still wanted to help her grandmother.

"Those mums will look good on Grandma's porch," Josie said.

Amelia shrugged. "Whatever," she said. "Are you still going to marry Ted after he got engaged to that other woman?"

Mrs. Mueller, digging in her own freshly potted yellow mums, froze like a forest deer, then swiveled her iron gray helmet head toward Josie to listen better.

Josie blasted back her answer. "Ted isn't engaged to anyone but me," she said. "He's not going to marry that demented woman, AND I WISH PEOPLE WOULD QUIT SPREADING FALSE RUMORS!"

Mrs. M backed away from her mums, squeezed through her front door, and slammed it. Josie heard the lock click.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to beast me," Amelia said. Her lip trembled.

Beast? Josie wondered. Oh, right. She had been screaming.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wasn't yelling at you," Josie said. "That was for Mrs. M's benefit. She's the one spreading that rumor and she upset Grandma."

"Her," Amelia said. "Nosy b-" She saw her mother's frown and said, "Uh, person."

"Good catch," Josie said.

Ted hurried past them lugging a forty-pound bag of topsoil as if it weighed half that. "Hi, Amelia," he called as he ran up the porch steps.

"Put that bag next to the pots, Ted," Jane said. "And that's enough work. You're coming inside so I can look at that cut."

"It's nothing," Ted said. "I've already checked it."

"You're an animal doctor," Jane said. "You need an expert. That's me. Upstairs to my flat, and if you're good, you can have chocolate chip cookies."

"Never turn those down," Ted said, and raced up the stairs two at a time. Amelia ran behind him. Josie moved a little slower. Her feet hurt in those high heels.

Jane's pale green living room was so clean, it made Josie feel guilty. She could see the vacuum cleaner tracks in the wall-to-wall carpet and smell the lemon polish. The magazines were lined up precisely next to the TV clicker on the dust-free coffee table. Jane's shih tzu, Stuart Little, barked a greeting.

Ted started to scratch the dog's ears, when Jane commanded, "In the kitchen and unb.u.t.ton your shirt."

"But-," Ted said.

Josie hurried into her mother's kitchen. Ted was seated in a chair with Jane hovering over him. Amelia was crunching cookies at the table. The air was perfumed with fresh coffee.

"No cookies until I look at that cut," Jane said. She had an open first-aid kit on the counter. "Just as I thought. This wound wasn't cleaned properly." She tore open an alcohol wipe and gently dabbed at Ted's neck.

"Ow!" he said.

"Don't be such a baby," she said. "Big strong man like you. You carried those heavy pots, so you can put up with this." She squeezed a drop of medicated ointment on a Q-tip, applied it to the cut, then covered the wound with a Band-Aid.

Despite his protests, Ted seemed pleased by Jane's fussing. Josie realized his own mother had never even looked at the cut. Lenore had been too busy swanning in front of the TV cameras.

"There," Jane said. "Much better. Now tell me about this terrible business."

Josie did while Ted sipped coffee and munched cookies. When she finished, Jane said, "Goodness." Jane never used four-letter words, so this was extreme disapproval for her. "Amazing," Amelia said, finishing yet another cookie. Josie had lost count at six.

"At least that Molly won't be bothering you anymore," Jane said. "What are the latest plans for the wedding, Josie? I need to know, since I'm meeting with you and Ted's mother tomorrow."

"Can I turn on the TV?" Amelia interrupted.

Amelia was bored by the constantly changing details. So was Josie, but she didn't dare admit it. She told Jane about Lenore's offer to hire a string quartet for the wedding and left out her attempted takeover of the reception music. No point giving Jane ammunition.

"Mom!" Amelia shouted from the living room. "Ted's mother is going to be on TV."

"What?" Ted, Josie, and Jane stood up and sprinted for the living room. They arrived to see Molly Ann Deaver weeping before the camera.

"That's your crazy bride?" Jane said. "She looks normal to me."

"She isn't," Josie said. "She-"

Josie stopped, shocked speechless when the announcer said, "Channel Seven has a special report at five p.m. about the double-brided doctor and his pistol-packing mama."

Then Lenore Scottsmeyer Hall smiled and pointed her pearl-handled pistol straight at the screen.