A Catered Wedding Read Online Free

dissolved into little droplets by now. The only thing she hadn’t factored in was transportation. The cake had to go from the kitchen of A Taste of Heaven to the van and from the van to the temporary kitchen she and Bernie had set up on the Raid Estate and from there to the tent where the reception was taking place.
    Just the thought of having to move the cake not once but three times—in the rain no less—made Libby reach for one of her chocolate chip cookies. She was supposed to be on Atkins, but there were times when only carbs would do and this was definitely one of those times. Libby was taking a bite of her cookie when Bernie walked in to the kitchen.
    â€œWe have to go,” Libby told her. “It’s almost eight o’clock.”
    â€œI’m ready,” Bernie said handing her a cup of coffee from the pot she’d brewed for the store. “Here. You’re going to need this.”
    Libby looked at what her younger sister was wearing. She could understand the black hip-huggers and the tank top, but not the shoes.
    â€œYou’re wearing pink wedges to stand in the kitchen? Are you nuts?”
    â€œHey,” Bernie told her, “I don’t comment on your Birkenstocks and you don’t comment on these. How’s the coffee?”
    Libby took a taste.
    â€œSumatran?” she guessed.
    Bernie nodded. “Good isn’t it?”
    â€œVery,” Libby agreed. The way the day was going she was going to need several pots of the stuff and a bottle of aspirin. She glanced down at her sister’s feet again. “How can you wear those to work in?”
    Bernie shrugged. “Some people wear flats and other people wear heels and wedges. I am one of the other people.”
    â€œI just hope you don’t trip when we carry the cake out to the van.”
    â€œHave I ever tripped?”
    â€œNo,” Libby conceded.
    â€œWell, then don’t worry about it.”
    â€œBut I do.”
    But then Libby admitted to herself, if truth be told she worried about everything. But if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have a successful business. Or at least that’s what she told herself. She finished the coffee and took a deep breath. It was time to move the cake.
    They’d just finished loading it into the van, when Libby heard her dad calling her name. She looked up. Her father was leaning out of his bedroom window on the second floor.
    â€œYou be careful out there,” he told her.
    Libby laughed. He’d been saying that to his daughters as long as she could remember.
    â€œWe’re catering a wedding Dad, not executing search warrants.”
    â€œI’m talking about the aunts.”
    Libby sighed. “Oh them.”
    How could she have forgotten about Eunice and Gertrude Walker? They weren’t really her aunts; she and Bernie just called them that. They were distant relations, old friends of one of her mother’s cousins. Or something like that. Libby could never remember.
    It wasn’t that they weren’t nice. After all, if it hadn’t been for them A Taste of Heaven never would have gotten this job. No. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that they were nuts. Until she’d met them Libby had thought that Marxists were something that only existed in history books. And if that wasn’t bad enough they did things like dye their hair magenta and go back to school to study entomology.
    Libby still remembered the time their locust collection had escaped. That had been bad. But their driving was worse. Both of them had gotten their licenses when they were sixty-two. Libby remembered drawing straws with Bernie. The loser got to go with the aunts. “It’ll be fine,” her mother always said. “They never go over thirty-five miles an hour.” To this day Libby could still remember the curses from other motorists as the aunts toddled down the highway. Amazingly, they’d never got any tickets. Finally, it