have an honest-to-God plan to show Anna,” Carrie muttered to herself, starting to lay out her papers.
She got twenty minutes in before the phone rang.
“Guess what?” Ruth’s voice, miles away in Manchester, was bubbling with excitement.
“What?” Carrie asked her cousin, shifting the decorating of the bedrooms up by a few weeks on her timetable.
If she sounded impatient, Ruth was obviously too excited to notice. “I’m getting married!” Ruth finished off the sentence with the obligatory squeal of excitement.
“That’s...” Carrie paused. “Hang on. Who to?”
“Graeme.” Ruth sighed the name. “I told you about him, last time you called. Remember?”
Racking her brains to try to remember when she last spoke to her cousin, Carrie was pretty sure it hadn’t been long enough for Ruth to reach the engagement part of any romance.
“That was two months ago,” Carrie said. They’d emailed since then, but Carrie had mostly been filling Ruth in on the deal for the inn, and maybe she hadn’t paid quite enough attention to her cousin’s responses. “It was just after the funeral. You said you were going on your second date.”
“I said I thought this was the one,” Ruth corrected. She sounded wounded, Carrie realized. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
“Of course I am,” Carrie said automatically. “It just seems a bit fast, is all.” And it wasn’t as if this was even the first time Ruth had gotten engaged. By Carrie’s count they were up to three ex-fiances, with not a wedding between them.
Carrie squinted at the papers, and shifted the completion of the terrace back a week. The work was bound to run over.
“Carrie, this one’s different. Trust me. I never... With the others, it was different. This is the one for me. And when you meet the love of your life, there’s just no point waiting. You’ll see what I mean one day.” Ruth’s tone was utterly serious now, and Carrie sat up straighter. She sounded like she might actually go through with it this time.
“So, um, when did he propose? And where?” Maybe the kitchen could wait until next summer. Jacob seemed to be managing all right at the moment. Carrie shifted the relevant Post-it note into the Future Plans section.
“Last night. We were having dinner in this cozy little Italian ’round the corner from his flat, and we were talking about the future–you know how you do.”
“Of course,” Carrie said, although in her experience, at the two-month mark she was more likely to be discussing how it really wasn’t working out, and how she had a lot of work on right now anyway, and maybe it would be better if they stayed just friends.
“Anyway, Graeme said he saw himself marrying me, one day, so I said, ‘Why wait?’”
That didn’t sound exactly like a proposal to Carrie. More like a hijacking.
“We’re going shopping for a ring this afternoon,” Ruth concluded.
“Well, I can’t wait to see it.” Carrie hoped Graeme had a decent credit limit. He certainly hadn’t had time to save up for a suitable rock. Picking up the survey again, Carrie flicked through to see exactly how desperately the guttering needed replacing.
“Oh, you will soon. I’ve told Graeme we have to get married at the Avalon, so we’ll be visiting so he can get the tour. He thought it was cute how we used to play weddings there when we were kids. It’ll be perfect. You can be my bridesmaid again!”
The survey dropped to the floor, clunking against the carpet and sending up dust. “The Avalon? Well, I hope you’re planning a long engagement.” Carrie attempted a chuckle, but it came out more of a croak.
“Oh, no.” Carrie could practically hear Ruth tossing her head from side to side. “I want to be Mrs. Frobisher as soon as possible. And I’ve already decided on my bouquet. This month’s Blissful Bride magazine had a feature on Ecuadorian Cool Water Roses. They’re lavender, you know. My favorite color.”
“How soon is as soon as
She got twenty minutes in before the phone rang.
“Guess what?” Ruth’s voice, miles away in Manchester, was bubbling with excitement.
“What?” Carrie asked her cousin, shifting the decorating of the bedrooms up by a few weeks on her timetable.
If she sounded impatient, Ruth was obviously too excited to notice. “I’m getting married!” Ruth finished off the sentence with the obligatory squeal of excitement.
“That’s...” Carrie paused. “Hang on. Who to?”
“Graeme.” Ruth sighed the name. “I told you about him, last time you called. Remember?”
Racking her brains to try to remember when she last spoke to her cousin, Carrie was pretty sure it hadn’t been long enough for Ruth to reach the engagement part of any romance.
“That was two months ago,” Carrie said. They’d emailed since then, but Carrie had mostly been filling Ruth in on the deal for the inn, and maybe she hadn’t paid quite enough attention to her cousin’s responses. “It was just after the funeral. You said you were going on your second date.”
“I said I thought this was the one,” Ruth corrected. She sounded wounded, Carrie realized. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
“Of course I am,” Carrie said automatically. “It just seems a bit fast, is all.” And it wasn’t as if this was even the first time Ruth had gotten engaged. By Carrie’s count they were up to three ex-fiances, with not a wedding between them.
Carrie squinted at the papers, and shifted the completion of the terrace back a week. The work was bound to run over.
“Carrie, this one’s different. Trust me. I never... With the others, it was different. This is the one for me. And when you meet the love of your life, there’s just no point waiting. You’ll see what I mean one day.” Ruth’s tone was utterly serious now, and Carrie sat up straighter. She sounded like she might actually go through with it this time.
“So, um, when did he propose? And where?” Maybe the kitchen could wait until next summer. Jacob seemed to be managing all right at the moment. Carrie shifted the relevant Post-it note into the Future Plans section.
“Last night. We were having dinner in this cozy little Italian ’round the corner from his flat, and we were talking about the future–you know how you do.”
“Of course,” Carrie said, although in her experience, at the two-month mark she was more likely to be discussing how it really wasn’t working out, and how she had a lot of work on right now anyway, and maybe it would be better if they stayed just friends.
“Anyway, Graeme said he saw himself marrying me, one day, so I said, ‘Why wait?’”
That didn’t sound exactly like a proposal to Carrie. More like a hijacking.
“We’re going shopping for a ring this afternoon,” Ruth concluded.
“Well, I can’t wait to see it.” Carrie hoped Graeme had a decent credit limit. He certainly hadn’t had time to save up for a suitable rock. Picking up the survey again, Carrie flicked through to see exactly how desperately the guttering needed replacing.
“Oh, you will soon. I’ve told Graeme we have to get married at the Avalon, so we’ll be visiting so he can get the tour. He thought it was cute how we used to play weddings there when we were kids. It’ll be perfect. You can be my bridesmaid again!”
The survey dropped to the floor, clunking against the carpet and sending up dust. “The Avalon? Well, I hope you’re planning a long engagement.” Carrie attempted a chuckle, but it came out more of a croak.
“Oh, no.” Carrie could practically hear Ruth tossing her head from side to side. “I want to be Mrs. Frobisher as soon as possible. And I’ve already decided on my bouquet. This month’s Blissful Bride magazine had a feature on Ecuadorian Cool Water Roses. They’re lavender, you know. My favorite color.”
“How soon is as soon as
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