Dirty Thirty (Stephanie Plum, #30)(83)

“No. No, no, no, no.”

“Okay, I’ll level with you. It’s no picnic being here. You’d think it was the king of England’s coronation. There’s elaborate plans in place and a lot of hysteria going on. Your mother’s been knitting and sneaking hits of Jim Beam since seven this morning. If they can’t find someone to fit in that dress and walk down the aisle, all hell’s gonna break loose.”

Crap!

“Fine. I’ll do it if the dress fits, but I want a pineapple upside-down cake out of this.”

“You got it.”



* * *




There were a bunch of cars parked in front of my parents’ house, forcing me to park two doors down, in front of Mrs. Kenny’s house. Aunt Bitsy, Loretta, and assorted people I’d never seen before were huddled in groups in my parents’ living room and dining room. Seating charts were spread across the dining room table and seemed to be the cause of crises. Bob and I put our heads down and went straight to the kitchen. My mom was at the table, knitting needles in hand, working on a twenty-seven-foot scarf. Grandma was holding a tray with about forty sandwiches on it.

“Take this to the dining room and give it to Bitsy,” she said. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Bitsy got excited when she saw me.

“Stephanie!” she said. “Thank goodness you’re here.” She waved her arms in the air. “Everyone! This is Stephanie. She’s going to fill in for Elena and save my little girl’s wedding day.”

“If I fit the dress,” I said, handing Bitsy the sandwiches.

“Of course you’ll fit the dress,” Bitsy said. “If not, we’ll just take a tuck here and there.”

Grandma came up behind me. “Gangway,” she said. “I gotta get Stephanie upstairs.”

The bridesmaid dress was laid out on my bed. It was gray satin and there was a lot of it.

“This is never going to fit,” I said.

“It might not be so bad,” Grandma said. “We’ll just take a tuck here and there.”

“It’s gray.”

“Loretta is kind of plain. I think they didn’t want her to be overshadowed by her bridesmaids on her special day.”

I shucked my T-shirt and jeans and got into the dress. The length was okay, but Elena clearly had a lot more chest than I did.

“It could be worse,” Grandma said. “We’ll just stuff some socks in your bra. You used to do that in middle school anyway.”

“Who are all those people downstairs?”

“Seven of them are the other bridesmaids.”

“There are seven bridesmaids?”

“That’s why they needed you. Seven doesn’t come out even when they’re all lined up. And then there’s the wedding planner and her crew. And there’s some kind of high-level discussion going on with the reception seating and who’s getting the prime rib.”

“Mom looked zoned out.”

“Your mother was a real trouper until this morning when we heard about the appendix and Bitsy went into a state. Bitsy was all bug-eyed and foaming at the mouth and gonna call everything off, you’d think she was the bride. And your mother picked up her knitting and she hasn’t left the kitchen table since. She’s like a little island of calm in a big raging storm.”

“Was my wedding frantic like this?”

“No. You saved frantic for your divorce. People are still talking about it.”

I went downstairs and found Bob sneaking sandwiches off people’s plates. I hooked him up to his leash and we went to the door.

“Don’t forget about the rehearsal,” Grandma said to me. “Tomorrow at six o’clock at the church, and then there’s the rehearsal dinner afterward.”



* * *




Bob and I had a quiet dinner, we watched some television, and I did a last email check of the day.

“Things are coming together,” I said to Bob. “We’ve got the fake jewels. We’ve got Marcus, the homeless guy who didn’t get shot. We’ve got Nutsy. There’s only one missing piece to the puzzle. Stump. We need a body.”

I changed into a tank top and pajama bottoms and slipped into bed. Bob jumped up, found the perfect sleep spot on Ranger’s side, turned around four times, and flopped down.

The room was dark, and the bed was perfect, but I couldn’t sleep. I was waiting for Ranger. I didn’t know what to expect. And I didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m confused,” I said to Bob. “I’m a mess.”



* * *




Ranger came home a little after one. I got out of bed when I heard him in the kitchen.

“I didn’t expect you to still be up,” he said when I walked in.

“I couldn’t sleep. Are you having another green smoothie?”

“Mixed berry. Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“I have things on my mind,” I said. “Morelli is coming home tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I’m feeling guilty. He doesn’t know I’ve been staying here.”

“Do you feel guilty because he doesn’t know or because you like staying here?”