A Wedding on Ladybug Farm Read Free Page B

“Look, we don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to weddings around here, you know.  The first time we tried to have a wedding at Ladybug Farm a tornado came and the goat ate the cake.”
    “Not the whole cake,” Bridget protested. 
    Lindsay overrode her.  “And the second wedding we planned, the bride ended up running away to be with another man.”
    Cici objected, “I wouldn’t say Lori ran away.  Exactly.”  She frowned into her wine.  “Besides, that had nothing to do with us.”
    “The point is,” Lindsay said, “I’ve waited over twenty years to get married again, and you can believe me when I tell you it will be for the last time.  All I’m trying to do is make sure everything is as perfect as it can be.  And it will take as long as it takes.”
    Bridget sipped her wine, her expression thoughtful.  “I don’t know, Lindsay.  After a certain age, it doesn’t always pay to put to things off.  It’s like the preacher said, we’re not promised tomorrow.”
    Lindsay drew in a sharp breath to reply but let it out silently as Dominic came up the steps.
    “Hello, my darlings,” he greeted them.  “How was the funeral?”
    Lindsay made a face. “Why do people say that?  It was a funeral. How good could it be?”
    “It’s a Southern thing,” Bridget said. “We have this whole dark delight thing going on with funerals.” 
    “Speak for yourself,” Lindsay said.  “I hate them.”
    “Actually,” said Dominic, “I was just being polite.”
    “It was a lovely service,” Lindsay replied dutifully.  She extended one hand in welcome, but her smile seemed a little distracted.
    “I’m sorry I missed it.”  He caught her fingers and kissed them, then turned to pour himself a glass of wine.  “I was fond of Maggie.”
    “You were at the visitation last night,” Bridget reminded him.  “I know the family appreciated that.  Will you stay for supper?”
    “Thank you, but I’ll just have a sip with you, if I may, and then get along.  The day is only half done.”  He lifted the wine bottle and examined the label before pouring, more out of habit than curiosity. In his world, the only wine that mattered was the wine from Ladybug Farm.  All other vintages were just filling in the time until his own was ready to debut.  “Good turnout, was there?”
    “Everyone in the county,” Cici replied.  “If we hadn’t gotten there early we never would have gotten a seat.  Thanks for taking care of things while we were gone.”
    Dominic topped off Cici’s glass, then Bridget’s, then Lindsay’s.  He took his glass and sat next to Lindsay. 
    “You know, it makes you wonder,” Bridget said thoughtfully.  “How many people will come to our funerals when it’s time?”
    Lindsay groaned out loud again and Bridget insisted, “No, I’m serious.  You see someone like that, who’s been here so long and touched so many lives, and people are standing in line to pay their respects … but we’ve only been here a few years, and we don’t know that many people.  Really, who would come? And is there anything sadder than a funeral where nobody comes?”
    “I’d come,” Cici assured her, “and I’d make Lindsay come whether she wanted to or not.”
    “I’m sure your children would make the trip,” Dominic added.
    Bridget nodded, somewhat encouraged. “That’s true, I suppose. And Katie would bring the grandchildren.”
    “I’m not sure how I feel about little kids at a funeral,” Lindsay objected.
    “You can’t protect children from everything in life,” Dominic said.  “It’s important that they understand that what is today may not always be.”
    “Of course the girls have to be there,” Bridget insisted, a little indignantly.  “You always go to your grandmother’s funeral.”
    “Paul and Derrick would come,” Lindsay said.  “Paul never misses a chance to give a speech.”
    “And I’m sure the garden club would send a