Jane called Mel. "Your mother is in town."
"What for?" He sounded alarmed.
"To find a hotel that can cater four hundred guests and host a dance after the wedding."
A long sigh from Mel. "That's none of her business. It's up to us where the wedding takes place. And even I don't know four hundred people I'd want to have there."
"Furthermore, she didn't even buy a copy of my book at the bookstore. And she tried to break into my escort's car to talk about it more."
"Okay, I'll find her. I have her cell phone number and will stop her in her tracks. I already made it clear that this wasn't up to her. It's our choice of the place. A dance, for God's sake," he exclaimed before hanging up.
Mel called her back that evening, and said, "I've told her she can invite fifty people and we'll invite fifty or fewer. We will pick out where and when the public wedding takes place. She can cater it. She can buy whatever stuff she wants to put on the tables. You will pick out your own flowers for your bouquet and the dinner tables. But, Janey darling, her plans also included an enclosure in the invitation for where to buy gifts."
"What?" Jane yelped.
"Sorry, but it's true. We were supposed to go to Bed Bath and Beyond and pick out what we wanted in housewares, china, bedding, and crystal. Also Home Depot so I could order tools and build a deck, and buy a big monster grill."
Jane forced a bitter laugh. "No way, Mel. For one thing it's rude to do that. And we don't need anything. We're grown-up adults. I couldn't find anywhere to put any of this stuff."
"And I already have a drill with bits, and both kinds of screwdrivers. I'm not building a deck. And if we want a grill, we can pick one out ourselves."
"How about this?" she suggested. "If she insists on an enclosure, tell her we want donations to the Red Cross,the Salvation Army, and Habitat for Humanity. We'll look golden and people we don't even know will benefit from it. And we won't have to build yet another room to hold stuff we don't need or want."
"Great idea. Speaking of charities, I'm thinking about giving most of my stuff to someone. I don't want that dilapidated sofa of mine, or the complicated pasta maker, or the really scary electrical meat slicer that looks like a power saw. There's also an industrial-size Cuisinart. Do you think the Salvation Army would take it all away? They're all in their original boxes."
"Of course they could, but what on earth made you buy such silly things?" Jane asked.
"I didn't buy them. My mother sends me domestic cooking gadgets for every birthday and Christmas. I even have a monster-size breadmaker."
"How did you hide these things from her that time she came to stay with you that Christmas when your furnace went out?"
"I'd like to claim I deliberately disabled the furnace so she'd never know. But it wasn't the truth. I couldn't have done that to you, forcing her to stay at your house for the holiday. She was there for such a short time that she couldn't even look in my kitchen cabinets."
He added, "The apartment didn't even come with a fridge or stove, so I'll pay someone to haul them away as soon as she's left after the wedding. I'm sort of glad this discussion came up."
Jane almost volunteered to help him with his purging,
then thought better of it. It was better if he got rid of his things by himself without any input from her.
"Anyway, she's on her way back to Atlanta," Mel said. "She hates having to share her commissions with other real estate people. That's why she seldom visits me. Thank God. Anyway, we should get on with making our own plans for where this fake wedding is going to take place."
"Shelley and I will look for nice hotels that can accommodate four hundred guests. You have lots of friends and acquaintances because of your job. You can invite as many as you want. I only want my immediate family and Shelley's, and Ted and Dixie, and Uncle Jim. That's seventeen people total including Ted and Dixie's little girls. Eighteen if your mother shows up."
"You must have a lot more friends you'd like to invite," Mel said.
"Only if you include my kids' former teachers, and all of the fundamentalist church ladies Thelma knows." "Is she coming to either of the weddings?"
"She says she'll consider both. Oh, I completely forgot to tell you what Thelma did to me."
"What was that?"
"She had a private detective following me everywhere I went. She knew exactly where Shelley and I went, what we were wearing, how long we were there."
"Good Lord! You've stopped her, I hope."
"Ted took her on. He balances her checking account and saw a check endorsed by a detective agency a couple of months ago. He thought she was investigating theadoption of their girls. He knew she'd fail to find any flaw in the paperwork, so he forgot about it until I met him in secret and told him about the forged addendum to my former husband's will."
"Worse and worse! Is she legally demented? Can't she be put away somewhere? What did she forge?"
"An addendum typed on an old typewriter I gave her — the print looked like handwriting script. It said if I remarried, the whole will was null and void. And she tried to fake his signature. Badly. Ted was already furious with her because she'd said in front of his children that they were `Chinks."
Mel was so dumbfounded by this whole story that he couldn't even reply for a minute or two. "Janey, please don't issue an invitation to either wedding to her. She's the kind of nut case who would ruin anyone's life just with a word or two."
"There is that. But more important, Ted, Dixie, and the little girls wouldn't come to the real wedding if Thelma were coming. I want them there. I'll have to have another secret meeting with Ted so he won't tell her where and when it's taking place. And warn him to keep the fake wedding a secret as well. I can't help feeling that 'all those trips she took Todd on were for nothing. She really treated one of my children well. But I hope to never be in the same room with her again. I'll have to explain to Todd why she's not invited, though."
"May I come over this evening to see how the new room is coming along?" Mel asked.
"I'd love it if you did. It's almost a real room. Mr. Beckman is really moving it along as fast as he can."
Saturday morning Todd came down expecting his mother to have made him a good breakfast. But he found her sitting at the kitchen table reading a mystery novel.
"No breakfast?" Todd asked.
"Not here. I have a craving for one of those Sonic breakfast meals. Greasy, salty, with two orders of tater-tots for both of us and big cherry limeades."
She knew this would appeal to him. And she also knew if he was at his computer he wouldn't really listen to her.
They took their orders and drove to a little park near the fast-food place. When they were both so full that they needed naps, Jane said, "Todd, there's something I need to tell you about your grandmother Jeffry."
"She died?" he asked.
"No, not yet. But she's become quite dotty and mean."
"You're telling me!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid to say it."
"How did you know?" Jane was surprised that he was so perceptive about his grandmother. She'd treated him well, she thought. All those nice summer vacations she'd taken him along on had been fun for him.
"That last trip, remember? To Mexico?"
"Yes. Two years ago."
"It was horrible,"Todd said, taking a noisy last slurp of his cherry limeade.
He went on, "She always took me to places wherethere was kid stuff. Playgrounds, swimming pools, and other stuff. I liked that and she'd always take me to a zoo or a neat movie. But when we got to Mexico, she went wonky."
"In what way?"
"Lotsa ways. She wouldn't let me swim in the hotel pool for one thing. She said the staff people got to use it sometimes and the water would be dirty and maybe carry diseases. She was rude to the waiters. She thought most of them didn't understand English and would say right in front of them how lazy they were. She'd always have bottled water in her big purse to wash off the silverware before we could eat."