ate the wedding favors. The pressure cooker exploded …”
Cici smothered a grin. “They deserved it.”
“And then,” concluded Lindsay triumphantly, “there was a tornado! So just don’t get so smug. Nothing is ever under control around here. Looks like you’d know that by now. So,” she invited, turning to Cici, “tell all. What are her colors? How many guests? How big is the wedding party? Has she picked a maid of honor? What about the dress?”
Cici pulled a strained face. “Oddly enough, her future mother-in-law and I had those very same questions.”
“Lori didn’t bring her book,” Bridget explained.
“Lori doesn’t have a book,” corrected Cici. “Turns out she’s—and I quote—not much of a wedding book kind of girl.”
Lindsay looked skeptical. “Every bride has a book. She probably just hasn’t had time to put it together yet.”
“But we did make some progress,” Bridget said. “It’s definitely going to be a garden wedding …”
“Uh-oh,” murmured Lindsay. “You’re just asking for trouble with that one.”
“With the chuppah up on the little hill exactly where we had the canopy last year, only facing the other direction so that the vineyard is in the background instead of the sheep meadow.”
“It will snow,” predicted Lindsay confidently. “Or maybe the sheep will escape and maraud the wedding party.”
“It’s going to be an interfaith ceremony,” Bridget went on, undeterred, “just like Chelsea Clinton and Marc Mezvinsky’s . I just love the Jewish wedding ceremony. Did you know it’s one of the oldest wedding ceremonies in the western world? Well,” she corrected herself, “the Greek Orthodox ceremony may have elements that are older, but as a whole, the traditional Judaic wedding tradition has been passed down virtually unchanged for over four thousand years. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”
Lindsay slid her a skeptical look. “How do you know these things?”
Bridget shrugged complacently. “I read it somewhere.”
In a moment, Cici said, “I don’t think Lori has even noticed that she’s marrying out of her faith. And I don’t think Mark cares at all one way or another. I think what bothers me is not that she didn’t tell me, but that she didn’t even think it was important enough to mention. How seriously can she be taking this, anyway?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Bridget assured her. “Kids these days are not as concerned about those things as we were.”
“Well,” said Lindsay, “it’s really not surprising. They’re exposed to so much more at an early age than any generation before them. The whole world is at their fingertips, and the transition from one culture to another doesn’t seem nearly as dramatic. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“I don’t know,” said Cici. “I think it’s important to be raised in a culture with strong traditions. It helps define who you are.”
“Studies have proven that children who are raised with a strong religious background grow up to have better overall mental and physical health as adults than those who aren’t,” Lindsay said. “It doesn’t matter whether they practice that same religion when they’re grown up or not. Just the childhood background is what makes the difference.”
The other two considered that for a moment, rocking. “Where did you learn that?” Cici asked curiously.
Lindsay shrugged. “Church, I guess.”
“Speaking of church …” They all turned their heads toward the sound of a vehicle turning into the driveway, the sound they had all been waiting for, without bothering to acknowledge it even to themselves, for the past hour. A black-and-white streak dashed across the lawn and halfway down the drive, barking furiously, then abruptly veered off toward the sheep meadow.
Lindsay looked at her watch. “Really,” she said, “I know he could do a lot worse than Amy, and I should be glad he’s spending so much time in a
Cici smothered a grin. “They deserved it.”
“And then,” concluded Lindsay triumphantly, “there was a tornado! So just don’t get so smug. Nothing is ever under control around here. Looks like you’d know that by now. So,” she invited, turning to Cici, “tell all. What are her colors? How many guests? How big is the wedding party? Has she picked a maid of honor? What about the dress?”
Cici pulled a strained face. “Oddly enough, her future mother-in-law and I had those very same questions.”
“Lori didn’t bring her book,” Bridget explained.
“Lori doesn’t have a book,” corrected Cici. “Turns out she’s—and I quote—not much of a wedding book kind of girl.”
Lindsay looked skeptical. “Every bride has a book. She probably just hasn’t had time to put it together yet.”
“But we did make some progress,” Bridget said. “It’s definitely going to be a garden wedding …”
“Uh-oh,” murmured Lindsay. “You’re just asking for trouble with that one.”
“With the chuppah up on the little hill exactly where we had the canopy last year, only facing the other direction so that the vineyard is in the background instead of the sheep meadow.”
“It will snow,” predicted Lindsay confidently. “Or maybe the sheep will escape and maraud the wedding party.”
“It’s going to be an interfaith ceremony,” Bridget went on, undeterred, “just like Chelsea Clinton and Marc Mezvinsky’s . I just love the Jewish wedding ceremony. Did you know it’s one of the oldest wedding ceremonies in the western world? Well,” she corrected herself, “the Greek Orthodox ceremony may have elements that are older, but as a whole, the traditional Judaic wedding tradition has been passed down virtually unchanged for over four thousand years. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”
Lindsay slid her a skeptical look. “How do you know these things?”
Bridget shrugged complacently. “I read it somewhere.”
In a moment, Cici said, “I don’t think Lori has even noticed that she’s marrying out of her faith. And I don’t think Mark cares at all one way or another. I think what bothers me is not that she didn’t tell me, but that she didn’t even think it was important enough to mention. How seriously can she be taking this, anyway?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Bridget assured her. “Kids these days are not as concerned about those things as we were.”
“Well,” said Lindsay, “it’s really not surprising. They’re exposed to so much more at an early age than any generation before them. The whole world is at their fingertips, and the transition from one culture to another doesn’t seem nearly as dramatic. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“I don’t know,” said Cici. “I think it’s important to be raised in a culture with strong traditions. It helps define who you are.”
“Studies have proven that children who are raised with a strong religious background grow up to have better overall mental and physical health as adults than those who aren’t,” Lindsay said. “It doesn’t matter whether they practice that same religion when they’re grown up or not. Just the childhood background is what makes the difference.”
The other two considered that for a moment, rocking. “Where did you learn that?” Cici asked curiously.
Lindsay shrugged. “Church, I guess.”
“Speaking of church …” They all turned their heads toward the sound of a vehicle turning into the driveway, the sound they had all been waiting for, without bothering to acknowledge it even to themselves, for the past hour. A black-and-white streak dashed across the lawn and halfway down the drive, barking furiously, then abruptly veered off toward the sheep meadow.
Lindsay looked at her watch. “Really,” she said, “I know he could do a lot worse than Amy, and I should be glad he’s spending so much time in a
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