what… a couple of months?”
“What does that matter?” Ruth asked. “I told you at the funeral that I thought he was the one.” Her voice took on a wounded tone. “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 were even the first time Ruth had got engaged. By Carrie’s count they were up to three ex-fiancés, with not a wedding between them.
Of course, that was arguably still better than Carrie’s own romantic disaster zone. Since the miserable demise of her only real relationship, the best she’d managed was a series of first dates, followed by a few two-month-long attempts at dating that generally ended when the men in question realised Carrie was too busy working to see them. Of course, that was usually around the time that Carrie realised that she didn’t care that she hadn’t seen the guy in two weeks, so it all worked out quite well, really.
“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? You want to get married here?”
“Of course I do! Besides, I need you to plan my wedding, or else Dad will stick me with the awful Anna Yardley. And since you’re only doing weddings at the Avalon, where else could I have it?”
“You do remember what the Avalon is like, right?” How long had it been since Ruth had visited? She must have been there more recently than Carrie, surely.
“Of course. But now you’ve taken it over I’m sure it’s going to be glorious.” Confidence shone out of Ruth’s voice, making Carrie feel even worse.
“Unfortunately ‘glorious’ takes money,” she said. “I’m just working on a business plan to put to investors now.”
“You need investors? Well, that’s easy—ask Mum and Dad.” Ruth made it sound so easy, so simple. But the thought of having to go cap in hand to Uncle Patrick and Aunt Selena, begging for help, made bile rise in Carrie’s throat.
“I need to do this on my own, Ruth. I told you that.”
“But you’re not on your own, are you? Gran left you that gardener chap to work with, for a start. And besides, we’re family. We’re supposed to help.” When Carrie didn’t answer, Ruth sighed. “Well, think about it. And anyway, my wedding should help pay for some of it, right? I mean, Dad is already expecting me to spend a fortune on it, so I may as well spend it right.”
Which sounded a lot like a handout by another name to Carrie. “I don’t want you holding your wedding here just because you think I need the business.”
“I’m having my wedding at the Avalon because it’s home. And I will be paying a deposit cheque—that coincidentally will help get the place ready for my big day—because that’s what I’d be doing wherever we held it. So you don’t need to get all huffed up about it.” Carrie winced at Ruth’s insulted tone.
“I’m sorry. You know I’d love for you to have your wedding here. I just 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 favourite colour.”
“How soon is as soon as possible?” Carrie asked, desperately trying to get back to the things that mattered.
“Actually, I was thinking of a winter wedding. Maybe even Christmas.”
Christmas wasn’t so bad, Carrie told herself. Fourteen months away. Plenty of time. Unless... “You don’t mean this Christmas, do you?”
Ruth laughed. “Of course, this Christmas. Are you free on Christmas Eve? I think that would be the most romantic day to get married, don’t you?”
Carrie slumped against the embroidered moth cushion on the musty bed, secretly hoping that Ruth and Graeme would break up over the jeweller’s counter. She loved her cousin, really she did. But there was no way they would be ready for a wedding by Christmas.
“Anyway, I know we haven’t got much time, so I’ll email you some bridesmaid dress ideas later, and I’ll check with Graeme when we can come up to see you to sort out the rest, okay?”
Carrie nodded, then realised that was useless. “Great,” she said, unable to muster much enthusiasm.
“Then I’m off to choose my ring!” Ruth said, and hung up.
Carrie had two minutes of staring blankly at the phone before there was a knock at the door, and Nate’s head appeared around it. His expression was blank, so she had no idea if he was still angry with her about Mr Jenkins or not. They hadn’t really spoken since, which suggested he probably was. But on the other hand, he’d come looking for her…
“How did you know where I was?” she asked.
Nate came into the room, and shrugged, still expressionless. “Cyb saw you sneak in here earlier. Look, the builder’s here, when you’re ready. Said you called for some new quotes?”
“Yeah.” Carrie grabbed her clipboard and hopped off the bed. She had bigger things to worry about than whether her gardener liked her. “I’m coming.” She wondered what builder Tom would say when she told him she needed all the work done
