Marriage Can Be Murder -- Every Wife Has A Story (A Carol and Jim Andrews Baby Boomer Mystery) by Susan Santangelo

cupcakes (the new craze, I’m told), custom-made wedding cocktails (that’s a signature drink made just for one particular couple), and a wide assortment of hors d’oeuvres and appetizers. The last, I was assured by many wedding caterers, was guaranteed to please any impatient guest who’s waiting for the bridal party’s photography session to end. In fact, I also learned that some brides and grooms these days offer “heavy” hors d’oeuvres, and when the guests are full, skip right to dessert. I wasn’t sure Jim would go for that – he’s a meat and potatoes kind of guy – but it was something to think about.
    We talked to florists, makeup artists and hairdressers (with apologies to Deanna, who didn’t have a booth at the show). Strolling musicians. Pianists and jazz quartets. Dance bands. Dee-jays. Limo companies. Dentists who specialized in cosmetic procedures (I couldn’t believe that one). Photographers. Videographers.
    When I asked one videographer who was extolling the necessity of his services if couples could put their wedding video on a pay-per-view television channel and make a few bucks, I earned a dirty look from my darling daughter. “It’s a way to share the wedding with people who can’t attend, Mom,” she said. “And a way to remember the details of the wedding after it’s over. Not a way to make extra money. You should have figured that out.”
    Hmm. Well, yes. I had to admit that made sense. But I was only making a joke.
    Part of me wondered why we were bothering checking out all these vendors when Jenny and Mark were firm on wanting a small wedding. But I do hate to miss anything, and we were here already, so what the heck?
    And, of course, we checked out tux stores and bridal gown stores. The choice of gowns was completely overwhelming. There were so many styles to pick from, I couldn’t see how Jenny would narrow down the choice.
    “Jenny, these are all so beautiful and you’d look gorgeous in any one of them. I never realized there are other color choices besides white,” I said, rummaging through one of the racks. “Look, there’s ivory, blush… my gosh, is that one red?”
    “I have a plan,” Jenny said. “Don’t worry.” I raised my eyebrows.
    “It’s called a budget. Mark and I have discussed this, and we both agree that it’s silly to spend thousands of dollars on a dress I’ll only wear once. I’m hoping to find a gown from the sample rack. They’re a lot cheaper.”
    “Dad and I don’t want you to scrimp on something this important. We’ll pay for you to get exactly what you want. No arguments.”
    Jenny dragged me over to another rack where more gowns were displayed. “Check out this price tag, Mom. Then you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
    I read the tag twice. “This one says seven-thousand dollars. That’s outrageous. It must be a typo.”
    “No typo, Mom. Some people don’t bat any eye about spending that much on a wedding gown. We think it’s ridiculous.
    “Don’t worry, though. You’ll be an important part of my dress decision, and I promise not to walk down the aisle in a gunny sack to save money.
    “Now, let’s go find the guys and get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

Chapter 11
Who are all these tacky people, and who invited them to my party?
    “Now that you’ve seen all the things that go into planning a wedding these days, do you understand why we hired a professional planner?” Jenny asked me.
    “Can you imagine dealing with all those details, especially for a destination wedding? We’d go crazy. It’s a rotten coincidence that our wedding planner is involved with Nancy’s husband, but there’s nothing we can do about that. Tiffani is very good at her job, and right now her job is planning our wedding. Her personal life is her own business. Ok, Mom?”
    My mouth was full of delicious take-out from Seafood Sandy’s, my favorite Fairport fish restaurant, so all I could do was nod my head in