Wed and Buried Read Free Page B

tomorrow night,” Renie pointed out. “The food at the Naples Hotel should be quite good. They’ve had an outstanding restaurant ever since they remodeled a few years back.”
    â€œI wish you and Bill were coming,” Judith said with fervor. “I really don’t know any of these people. It’s going to be dull.”
    Renie, who drove a grocery cart almost as erratically as she handled a car, knocked over a papier-mâché pineapple that was part of Falstaff’s “Hawaii Days” display. “You do very well with strangers. That’s why you’re such a success as a B&B hostess. Besides, you’ll get to know most of the in-laws tonight. By the rehearsal dinner, they’ll all be your new best friends.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Judith said in an uncertain voice as they passed into housewares. “They sound kind of…odd.”
    Renie got tangled up in an orchid lei. “Ooops! Hey, they can’t be any odder than some of our shirttail relations.” The lei came apart, spilling purple petals all over Aisle B.
    â€œI don’t think they’re used to the city,” Judith remarked as she paused to pick up a box of laundry detergent. “They’re basically small-town folks.”
    â€œThen they’re probably thrilled to be in a big city,” Renie asserted. “I’ll bet the ones who have already arrived are having a great time sightseeing.”
    â€œMmm, maybe.” Judith waited for Renie to choose an oilskin tablecloth. “I’ll be relieved when this weekend is over.”
    Renie smiled at her cousin. “I don’t blame you—weddings are stressful. Not that I’d know,” she added archly, mowing down a plastic pig. “But when you think about it, what can really go wrong?”
    Judith admitted she didn’t know. Indeed, she couldn’t begin to guess.

TWO
    B Y THE TIME the pork roast had been reduced to cat scraps, the dinner party seemed somewhat awkward to Judith. Sig and Merle Rundberg provided pleasant conversation, but the other relatives tended to retreat into themselves. Judith thought they wore an air of suspicion. She said as much to Joe when they were in the kitchen, readying the strawberry parfaits.
    â€œYou bet they’re suspicious,” Joe replied in a low voice. “I’m guessing they’re a bunch of survivalists. Did you look up Deep Denial, Idaho and Trenchant, Montana on a map?”
    Judith shook her head. “I didn’t have time.”
    â€œYou’d have wasted it. Neither one shows up. I figure they’re up north, in the Idaho panhandle, or near the Montana-British Columbia border. These people have a real isolationist mentality. Did you hear them say one word about going outside their motels or hotels?”
    â€œNo,” Judith admitted. The Rundbergs had driven four hundred miles from the eastern part of the state and had been understandably tired. Still, Sig and Merle were more outgoing, and seemingly at ease in a social situation. They were staying at the B&B, along with Kristin’s brother, Norm, and his wife, Jewel, Merle’s brother and his wife, Sig’s two widowed sisters, and acurmudgeon called Uncle Gurd. While various other relatives camped out in their RVs and holed up in nearby motels, only Aunt Leah and Uncle Tank had joined the Hillside Manor contingent for dinner. Since Judith had expected to feed another half-dozen, she had urged her mother to join them at table. Joe had invited Herself. To Judith’s surprise, her husband’s ex had dressed decorously, imbibed moderately, and conversed minimally.
    As Judith carried in the dessert tray, there appeared to be a lull in the conversation. Gertrude abhorred a vacuum, and proceeded to fill it: “I’m a lifelong Democrat. Voted for FDR four times—all in the same election.” She chuckled at her own wit. “What about you