Emma swallowed back her tears. “And then all of a sudden all our friends were there with champagne. It was just magical. I wish you could have been there.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Andrew said, ripping his gaze from Emma and looking at her and Kit. “I should have asked. I know that. But . . .”
Kit shrugged. “It’s okay. I would have said yes because you two are perfect for one another. We’re happy for you.”
Melanie nodded, though she wasn’t so sure happy was the right word for how she felt. More like resigned because unless she wanted to alienate her daughter forever while at the same time looking like sour grapes, she would have to make the best of the situation.
At that moment, she heard someone shout, “Ma’am, ma’am?”
Kit craned his head. “Well, she’s here.”
Coming toward them in a tight, no doubt designer dress with her boobs spilling out was the person Melanie had vowed to hate until her last breath. Tennyson sashayed when she walked, wearing giant Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses like a celebrity. Her heels were high, her hair coiled perfectly, and her lipstick was piranha red. From a large bag slung over her shoulder, a ridiculous little puppy peeked out, giving a yipping bark as the man dressed in a white jacket and bow tie scurried toward them.
“Ma’am, we don’t allow dogs in here,” the maître d’ said, his finger raised.
Tennyson stopped and pivoted.
“This dog is my emotional support dog. I’m entitled to have my animal with me as long as it is properly restrained. Check titles two and three of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Are you going to deny me my legal rights, sir?” Tennyson asked, sliding her glasses down her nose and glaring at him.
The pup yipped again, doing its emotional support thing, one supposed.
“Uh, no, ma’am, it’s just this is a—”
“I’m not stupid. I know it’s a restaurant, and my service animal will remain in this bag. Do you have a problem with that?” Tennyson looked around and said very loudly, “Does anyone in here have a problem with my legal service animal?”
Several diners shook their heads. The maître d’ closed his mouth and then bowed his head. “My apologies, ma’am.”
Tennyson nodded like a queen dismissing her subject and then proceeded toward the table. “Oh, and get me a vodka martini, will you? Make it a double.”
Melanie stifled the insane impulse to laugh. Tennyson was like a Hollywood caricature come to life. Lord.
Her former friend halted at the table and looked them over. “What a sad little party. Where’s the happy tears and champagne? We are celebrating, aren’t we?”
Kit smiled, rose, and kissed her cheek. “Ah, Tennyson, you always bring the party, don’t you?”
Tennyson gave Kit a sly smile. “Something you haven’t forgotten, have you?”
She then bent to smack a kiss on the cheek of her son, leaving behind a smudge of red, before wrapping Emma in a hug. Looking over at Melanie, her lips twitched. “I’d hug you, but I don’t know what weapon you’re carrying in your, wait, is that a Brighton bag?”
Melanie didn’t want to bristle, but Tennyson hadn’t changed one dang lick. Always pushing, always sliding her digs in . . . or rather out-and-out tossing them like hand grenades.
“Hello, Teen—uh, Tennyson,” she said, stumbling past her old nickname for Tennyson because she wasn’t ready to let Emma know just exactly who this woman used to be to her. Instead, she found her calm, vowing to ignore Tennyson’s barbs.
“It’s been a while. You look good for your age,” Tennyson said, sliding into the empty chair beside her son. She sat her bag with the little Yorkie on the extra chair. “This precious angel is Prada, my new baby-kins. Isn’t she adorable? You are so adorable, sweet baby girl.”
“When did you get a dog?” Andrew said, looking at the little puppy whimpering and lifting a paw in the most adorable way.
“This morning,” Tennyson said, pulling off a piece of bread from the basket and offering it to the puppy.
“But you said it was a service dog,” Andrew said, frowning at his mother.
Tennyson waved a hand toward the front of the restaurant. “But he doesn’t have to know that she isn’t. I mean, last week, I had a raccoon get into the house. I thought it was a burglar at first, and that got me to thinking about being alone in that big ol’ house. So when I saw Prada, I knew she would keep me company. Totally an emotional support animal.”
“You think that dog can handle a burglar?” Kit asked. He slid a look over to Melanie, humor glinting in his eyes.
Tennyson slid her glasses off and set them beside her water glass. “Of course not. But she will bark. That might dissuade intruders.”
“Only if she can sound like a rottweiler,” Kit said.
Tennyson shot Kit a withering look before folding her hands and looking at Andrew and Emma. “Now, you two, what have we decided? Still set on mid-August?”
“It’s a suicide mission,” Melanie said, twisting her napkin into a noose. “We can’t possibly get everything done in that amount of time. What about Christmas? That at least gives us—”
“Mom, we’ve booked the church, and we are committed to August.” Emma may have rolled her eyes a little.
Melanie excelled at reading a crowd, and if she wanted to have any control of this wedding, she needed to assert herself quickly. Otherwise, Tennyson would have this whole next three months off the rails with crazy antics and wild ideas. Oh, and wasting a crap ton of money. “How about your father and I host a small engagement party in June? I think we can pull that together fairly quickly.”
“Uh, well, we hadn’t really thought about it. But that would be cool, I guess?” Emma looked at Andrew.
He nodded. “Yeah, that would be good.”
Kit glanced quizzically at Melanie. She gave him a confident smile. “I’ll get the list together and let you check it. I’m thinking something intimate with a nice champagne toast. We can announce the wedding date and location.”
Tennyson accepted the martini from the waiter. “That sounds so . . . well, there’s no other way to say it, so what is always done. But I suppose a tasteful, small engagement party would be a good idea. Emma and Andrew should be moved into their new place by that time.”
“New place?” Melanie tried to modulate her tone and volume but failed. Just how much planning had her daughter done without her?
“Tennyson is letting us live in her carriage house for the first year. It will save us money. Actually, we will pay her rent, but then turn around and use what we paid her as a down payment on a house next year. Isn’t that brilliant?” Emma beamed at her soon-to-be mother-in-law.
“Wait, Tennyson has a place in Shreveport?” Melanie’s voice rose to almost panic stage.
“Emma didn’t tell you?” Tennyson said, her smile almost evil. “Yes, Melly, I’m finally returning home. Perfect timing since my boy is moving there, too. And now I can help these two out as they start their life together.”
Kit raised his eyebrows. “That’s incredibly generous of you, Tennyson.”
“I’ve always been generous, Kit,” Tennyson purred.