Chapter One
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What’s the matter, Rhubarb, too good for the kiddie table?”
Kids she could handle. Even this motley group.
It was him Ruth Ann Barbel is couldn’t stand. She closed her eyes, scrunched them shut for al of ten seconds, praying to every patron saint she’d ever heard of that she wasn’t in this situation. She opened her eyes.
Bobby Wichowski waved.
She decided to try again.
“St. Jude isn’t a saint anymore, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”
Ruth Anne, deciding neither the saints nor God would be very sympathetic to a person thinking in that kind of language, spun on her heel with ful intention of wringing the neck of whomever switched her table card. “This is a mistake!”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” the wedding coordinator, Madelyn Wontor said three and a half minutes later.
“Jason and Bonnie expressly stated they wanted you and his brother seated at table seven. I thought it odd—”
“Odd? It’s the kiddie table, Madelyn!”
“Please, Ruth Anne, you’re making a scene.”
Ruth Anne blew a curl that had popped loose from her overcomplicated hairstyle out of her eye.
“This isn’t remotely a scene. When Bobby pantsed me during a basebal game at a family reunion, that was a scene. When he told my mother I was pregnant with his love child at my sister’s birthday party, that was a scene. When he taped five hundred blown up condoms to my front porch, that was a scene!”
“You forgot the time you told my date I gave you crabs in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
Bobby’s deep voice had the nerve to sound amused.
Ruth Anne felt her blood pressure rise. She didn’t bother to turn around. The jerk would probably be smiling. “It was syphilis. If you’re going to mention it, get it right.”
“Mr. Wichowski, Ruth Anne, you have to understand—”
“Why is he Mister and I’m Ruth Anne?”
“Because I’m the man, Rhubarb.” He grunted when the point of her elbow found his ribs.
Madelyn looked ready to cry.
“And there’s the happy couple!” Judging by the laughter, Madelyn’s untimely demise was put off by none other than Ruth Anne's mother...and Bobby’s.
“Don’t they look just?”
“Just what?” Ruth Anne turned to see Glynnis Barbel is and Evangeline Wichowski arm in arm, giggling like schoolgirls.
“Just miserable, sweetie. Leave Madelyn alone now, this is entirely our doing.” Glynnis, her silvery hair glistening and looking perfect despite the humid heat that had Ruth Anne’s red curls in an uproar, shushed the coordinator away.
Evangeline, a graying brunette with hair as black as her son’s, was already clucking away at Bobby, straightening his tie. Bobby was smiling down at her, his dimples flashing and his blue eyes teasing.
Glynnis pul ed her away. “We’re punishing the two of you. You want to act like children, you’l be treated like them. Quite frankly, we’re tired of having our family events ruined by your constant bickering and pranks. Especial y you, Bobby.”
Ruth Anne couldn’t help sliding him a superior look, uplifted eyebrow included without charge.
“Torturing poor Ruth Anne when you know she hasn’t had a date to protect her in years.”
Bobby fluttered his ostrich-sized lashes.
Ruth Anne considered spontaneous
combustion. “Momma!”
“The truth hurts, sweetie. Now, the two of you go back to that table, eat your food, do your toasts and, for the love of Pete, try to control yourselves. This is your siblings’ wedding. Let them have their day.”
“Don’t you think using today to punish us takes away from their day?” she asked, crossing her arms over the chest Bonnie’s chosen bridesmaid dress almost forgot to cover.
Glynnis smiled, the eternal smile of mothers worldwide. “No, it’s my wedding present to them.
Now go eat. And children?”
Nope, butter wouldn’t dare melt in that mouth.
“Play nice.”
Chapter Two
“I hate you. You are the reason
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What’s the matter, Rhubarb, too good for the kiddie table?”
Kids she could handle. Even this motley group.
It was him Ruth Ann Barbel is couldn’t stand. She closed her eyes, scrunched them shut for al of ten seconds, praying to every patron saint she’d ever heard of that she wasn’t in this situation. She opened her eyes.
Bobby Wichowski waved.
She decided to try again.
“St. Jude isn’t a saint anymore, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”
Ruth Anne, deciding neither the saints nor God would be very sympathetic to a person thinking in that kind of language, spun on her heel with ful intention of wringing the neck of whomever switched her table card. “This is a mistake!”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” the wedding coordinator, Madelyn Wontor said three and a half minutes later.
“Jason and Bonnie expressly stated they wanted you and his brother seated at table seven. I thought it odd—”
“Odd? It’s the kiddie table, Madelyn!”
“Please, Ruth Anne, you’re making a scene.”
Ruth Anne blew a curl that had popped loose from her overcomplicated hairstyle out of her eye.
“This isn’t remotely a scene. When Bobby pantsed me during a basebal game at a family reunion, that was a scene. When he told my mother I was pregnant with his love child at my sister’s birthday party, that was a scene. When he taped five hundred blown up condoms to my front porch, that was a scene!”
“You forgot the time you told my date I gave you crabs in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
Bobby’s deep voice had the nerve to sound amused.
Ruth Anne felt her blood pressure rise. She didn’t bother to turn around. The jerk would probably be smiling. “It was syphilis. If you’re going to mention it, get it right.”
“Mr. Wichowski, Ruth Anne, you have to understand—”
“Why is he Mister and I’m Ruth Anne?”
“Because I’m the man, Rhubarb.” He grunted when the point of her elbow found his ribs.
Madelyn looked ready to cry.
“And there’s the happy couple!” Judging by the laughter, Madelyn’s untimely demise was put off by none other than Ruth Anne's mother...and Bobby’s.
“Don’t they look just?”
“Just what?” Ruth Anne turned to see Glynnis Barbel is and Evangeline Wichowski arm in arm, giggling like schoolgirls.
“Just miserable, sweetie. Leave Madelyn alone now, this is entirely our doing.” Glynnis, her silvery hair glistening and looking perfect despite the humid heat that had Ruth Anne’s red curls in an uproar, shushed the coordinator away.
Evangeline, a graying brunette with hair as black as her son’s, was already clucking away at Bobby, straightening his tie. Bobby was smiling down at her, his dimples flashing and his blue eyes teasing.
Glynnis pul ed her away. “We’re punishing the two of you. You want to act like children, you’l be treated like them. Quite frankly, we’re tired of having our family events ruined by your constant bickering and pranks. Especial y you, Bobby.”
Ruth Anne couldn’t help sliding him a superior look, uplifted eyebrow included without charge.
“Torturing poor Ruth Anne when you know she hasn’t had a date to protect her in years.”
Bobby fluttered his ostrich-sized lashes.
Ruth Anne considered spontaneous
combustion. “Momma!”
“The truth hurts, sweetie. Now, the two of you go back to that table, eat your food, do your toasts and, for the love of Pete, try to control yourselves. This is your siblings’ wedding. Let them have their day.”
“Don’t you think using today to punish us takes away from their day?” she asked, crossing her arms over the chest Bonnie’s chosen bridesmaid dress almost forgot to cover.
Glynnis smiled, the eternal smile of mothers worldwide. “No, it’s my wedding present to them.
Now go eat. And children?”
Nope, butter wouldn’t dare melt in that mouth.
“Play nice.”
Chapter Two
“I hate you. You are the reason
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