“There will just be more of you to love, and you’ll fill out the dress a bit more. It stretches, you know.”
“I know, but it fits perfectly right now.”
“Okay, then we’ll order a veggie pizza and drink water with it. Because we need to leave room for the brownies I made.”
“Brownies!”
Tanya grinned. “Yeah, I’ve been craving chocolate. Wait ’til I tell you about Mrs. Vendt.”
“Oh Lord, what’s she done now?” Christie turned and grabbed Tanya’s forearm. “Wait. Are Miss Priss and Brutus all right? She hasn’t poisoned them again, I hope.”
“No, they’re fine. But she’s bought herself a huge water gun to rinse off her porch. When she sees either of them outside, and doesn’t see me, she blasts them with the water gun. Miss Priss has come in soaked three times this week! And Brutus twice.”
“I hate the way she picks on them as much as you do. I know you worry about them.”
Tanya shook her head. “I’m going to have to do something about it. This can’t continue.”
“Yes and you can even charge her if she breaks the law. If you could catch her on video being mean to them, then you’d have proof and she couldn’t play innocent. I could talk to Reed about a security system for you. SEAL’s probably know about things like that.”
“Thanks, Christie. I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for helping me get ready for this big date. Hey, go ahead and order that pizza, and I’ll get changed. I bet your brownies are delicious.”
* * *
In Christie’s eyes,the wedding was spectacular. All the SEALs in full dress uniforms, the bride in a stunning beaded gown and veil, and her two bridesmaids in pale pink and cream, with cream and green bouquets, made for a beautiful sight. The photographs were likely to be amazing.
With so much pageantry to take in, Christie enjoyed the visual feast. But then, there were the names. Pippa’s family chose unusual names for their daughters. First there was Pippa, the bride, whose full name was Joyce Pippalousa Smith. Then there were the bridesmaids—Jeanie Magic Smith, who was Pippa’s sister, and Pippa’s cousin, Louise Lala Smith.
Pippa’s mother, Jean Joy Smith, and her sailing boyfriend, Chuck had been sailing around the world, and this weekend was the first time Pippa’s mother had seen her three-year-old grandson, Benjamin Marcus Taylor.
The groom, Tanner “Diesel” Taylor, was Reed’s best friend, and Christie was confused whether to call him Tanner or Diesel as she heard him respond to both names, depending on whether the person was family or enlisted. Then there were the two groomsmen and the ushers, all SEALs. Diesel being a SEAL, many of the guests who weren’t in the wedding party were SEALs.
Christie was really having trouble with remembering everyone’s names. First the SEALs all seemed to have nicknames, as if it wasn’t hard enough remembering one person’s name, when they had two. And a whole lot of them had two. Add in Pippa’s family, and Christie just wished everyone would wear nametags.
Nametags make everything so much easier for everyone.
She was even having trouble keeping up with her date, Reed “Railroad” Tindal. She’d learned to think of him as Reed, and now, he had all these other names to remember, too.
So far, Reed had been called “Railroad” and “R.T.” by his buddies, which made Christie curious. “How many nicknames do you have?” she asked.
“Just two,” Reed said. “But you can call me Reed or R.T.”
“You know why we call him ‘Railroad’?” Diesel asked.
Christie shook her head.
“Because he’s like a railroad train. When he decides to move through, nothing stops him.” Diesel said. “I started calling him R.T., instead,” Diesel said. “Short for railroad train. Though he’ll tell you it means Reed Tindal. I quit arguing with him about it.”
Reed changed the subject.
Soon it was time for the dancing to begin. Diesel and Pippa started off the dancing, while everyone watched the newlywed couple. Christie watched them gazing into each other’s eyes and sighed. Then she caught herself and turned to glance at Reed, who sat watching her.
“I love weddings,” she said. “So much romance and love. When two people find each other and marry, it’s like magic.”
Reed smiled. “You’re a romantic.”
“Yes,” she said. “I am.” She tilted her head and asked, “Are you?”
