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

it and asked them to come. Mike responded immediately that they’d be there. He said Marlee was really looking forward to getting to know all of us better. Isn’t that terrific?”
    “Terrific,” I said, ignoring the fact that I wanted to be the one to invite them.
    Grow up, Carol. The kids are running this show, remember?
    I allowed myself a dainty sip of white wine before getting to the next item on my agenda. But Jim beat me to the punch.
    “Just how many people are you planning on inviting to the wedding?” he asked Mark and Jenny.
    I chimed in. Well, it was the next item on my agenda. “I know you’ve both said you wanted a small wedding, but have you given any thought at all to a guest list? I mean, there are some people that absolutely have to be invited.” I didn’t want to state the obvious ones: Nancy, Claire and Larry, and Mary Alice. (Not Bob, of course. He’d be, ahem, busy with the wedding planner.) But they were, after all, my friends. (Jim’s too, of course.) Maybe the kids wouldn’t want them there. Despite the fact that they’d all changed Jenny’s diapers back in the day.
    Jenny looked at Mark who, on cue, handed her a piece of paper. “We’ve gone round and round about this. We’ve decided to limit our guests to the immediate family. I have no idea about Mike and Marlee’s list, though.” She shoved the list toward me.
    Jim moved his chair close to me so he could peer at the list over my shoulder. It was a short list. Jim, me, and the two bridal couples. Mark’s father. That was it.
    “There are lots of other people who should be invited,” Jim said. “Tom Freemont, the editor of The Fairport News , and his wife Pat, for instance.”
    “And what about all our neighbors, Jenny?” I asked. “Most of them have known you since you were a toddler. And Nancy, and Mary Alice, and Claire and Larry? How can we not include them?”
    Jenny fixed me with a stare that reminded me of my own. “That’s exactly the point, Mom. Our wedding is not about people who should be invited. It’s about being surrounded by the people we really care about. And who really care about us.”
    I wanted to remind Jenny about how much she and Mike had relied on my friends over the years. How they’d been like additional parents. And that they all really cared about her and her brother.
    But I didn’t. I kept my big mouth shut and reminded myself for the umpteenth time that this was the kids’ wedding. They were calling the shots.
    If you don’t think that was hard for me, think again.
    “I can tell by your face that you’re not happy about this, Mom,” Jenny said.
    “We could always have a family party here after the wedding, Carol, and invite all our friends to come and celebrate the happy couples,” Jim suggested in an attempt to restore harmony.
    I had to admit, that was a good idea. Plus, we could combine it with our annual Christmas party.
    I’d mull that idea over later. After I came to terms with how little Jim and I (ok, I) had to say about this wedding.
    “Mom,” Jenny pleaded, “please don’t be upset that we want to keep the wedding so small. Maybe if I tell you what happened to me at a wedding I went to with my old boyfriend, Jeff, in California two years ago, you’ll understand why I…I mean, we...feel so strongly about this. It may even make you laugh.”
    I smiled a little. “Go ahead, Jenny. I could use a laugh right now.” Jenny relaxed in her chair. “Well, you and Dad both remember what a control freak Jeff was, right?” she asked us. She shot a quick glance at her fiancé. “I hope you don’t mind my talking about my old boyfriend, Mark.”
    Mark grinned. “I don’t mind at all. Talking about him makes me look even better to you.”
    “Jeff was a junior associate in his law firm then,” Jenny continued, “and he really wanted a promotion. So when the senior partner’s daughter was getting married, he wangled us an invitation. I was so nervous. We went to this posh