A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) by Sheila Roberts Page B

Anne raced to the neighboring chain grocery stores, buying the prettiest layer cake she could find as well as all manner of cupcakes. Forty minutes later, a slightly less elaborate cake sat on the table, surrounded by tiered plates with a selection of cupcakes. Some strategically repositioned candles and flowers added elegance. The rest of the reception went off without a hitch, and after drinking champagne and dancing with her new husband and her doting father, the bride was smiling once more.
    “You saved the day,” Greta said to Anne later that evening.
    Anne smiled modestly and shook her head. “Even when things don’t go the way you plan, a wedding is always a happy event.”
    Laney’s wedding would go perfectly, though. She was going to make sure of that. Thank God they didn’t have a Teddy to mess everything up.
    They still had a lot to do to see that everything went smoothly on Laney’s big day, so Anne called her daughter on Monday when she had a few minutes between clients. The call went straight to voice mail and Anne sighed. It was after lunch. Laney would be off work now, and since the sun was out, she was probably running around Green Lake. Anne settled for a text. We need 2 talk. Call me.
    She’d just finished conferring with her favorite caterer about food for an upcoming wedding—pulled-pork sliders, savory cupcakes, sushi and a dessert buffet—when Laney checked in. “What’s up, Mom?”
    Was it Anne’s imagination or did her daughter sound wary? Maybe Anne’s text had seemed a little...imperious. “Oh, nothing,” she said airily. “I was thinking we should lock in Primrose Haus for your wedding reception, that’s all,” she rushed on and then held her breath.
Please, God, don’t let Drake have talked Laney into Vegas.
    There was a moment of silence on the phone that shot Anne’s heart rate up. Finally Laney said, “Okay, let’s do it.”
    She seemed hesitant. Suddenly the buzzard of guilt perched on Anne’s shoulders.
Way to go
, it said.
Pressure the poor kid.
    Oh, crud. The buzzard was right. She was forcing her daughter to do something she wasn’t excited about.
    But Laney had always wanted a fancy wedding, ever since she was a little girl. Deep down, she really did want this and if she settled for something else she’d regret it later.
    Still, Anne had to ask, “Are you sure?”
    “Yeah, I’m sure,” Laney said.
    “You don’t sound sure.”
    “Mom. I’m sure. It’ll be great for the reception. I still want to get married on the river, though.”
    “Okay.”
Hopefully, in a wedding gown. No shorts and bikini top.
“Great. Tell you what. Why don’t you come by the office and we can talk about your vision for the wedding.”
    “I need to get a shower first. I just finished running.”
    Laney loved to run. She’d been on the swim team in high school and had added running to her regimen in college.
    She’d tried to convince Anne to take it up, but Anne preferred a brisk walk on the treadmill at the gym or a walk in the snow on a wintry day. She would just have to live without experiencing that mystical runner’s high, because she’d never be caught running unless she was being chased by a bear. And since she didn’t do camping, either, there was no danger of that.
    Her daughter loved to tease her about her poor excuse for a sense of adventure. So she didn’t like rock climbing or sleeping in leaky tents. If she was going to enjoy nature, she wanted to do it from the comfort of a cozy, little cabin.
    “That’s fine,” she said. “See you whenever you get here.”
    Funny how a mother and daughter could have so much in common—a love of parties and romantic comedies and card games—and yet be so different. That wasn’t a bad thing, she reminded herself as she ended the call. Her daughter was her own woman. And that was how it should be. Still, when it came to weddings...
    “You’re frowning,” her sister said.
    Anne blinked. “What?”
    “You’re