The Moonglow Sisters - Lori Wilde Page 0,67
wedding. She’d kept repeating, Why, Shelley, why?
Of course, Shelley couldn’t, wouldn’t tell her. She’d take the reason to her grave and if it meant she had to put on the coat of scapegoat to keep the secret, then that was her life’s sacrifice.
Although she really did want to believe Darynda’s version.
Except for Darynda, who’d become a fixture at the hospital, all the other members of the Quilting Divas were attending the quilting party scheduled to run from eight A.M. on Friday morning, through eight P.M. on Sunday night.
People would cycle in and out as their schedules permitted. Anna Drury would provide breakfast and lunch for the three-day event. Dinners would be a group affair, with everyone pitching in to help cook and clean. And meals extended to the volunteer workers renovating the inn.
The weekend was shaping up to be a crowded affair as the community came together for Helen Chapman. The outpouring overwhelmed Shelley, touching tender nerves. How would they ever repay the townspeople for their generosity and kindness?
On the Thursday afternoon before the quilting bee, while Gia spelled Darynda at the hospital so that she could go check on her dogs, Madison and Shelley swung by the liquor store for provisions. Madison had rented a car so that she wouldn’t have to depend on Gia and Darynda for rides. Inside the liquor store, they had to stop so Maddie could sign autographs for the clerks. It was starting to sink in that her sister really was fairly famous.
“Is getting little old ladies liquored up while they quilt such a good idea?” Shelley asked as they stood in the vodka aisle boggling at the sheer volume of flavored alcohol.
“Gia and Mike have volunteered to be designated drivers.”
“I was talking about their quilting abilities.”
“Please,” Madison said, picking up a bottle of coconut vodka and putting it in the cart. “These gals have been quilting longer than we’ve been alive. They could quilt blitzed out of their minds.”
Shelley clicked her tongue. “This’ll be interesting.”
Madison picked up another bottle of vodka, pulled a sour face. “Seriously? Smoked salmon–flavored vodka? You gotta be kidding me.”
“For the secret Norwegian in you?”
Madison shuddered.
“C’mon, can’t you just imagine that cocktail? The Lox, Bagel, and Cream Cheese.” Shelley giggled. “Smoked salmon vodka, capers, tomato juice, add a splash of heavy cream and a slice of bagel for garnish and— Dude, look!” Shelley exclaimed. “Bacon vodka.”
“You know, that one might not be so bad. I have a chef friend who uses bacon in desserts and it’s pretty scrumptious.”
Shelley blinked. “Bacon desserts scrumptious? Are we even remotely related? I’m thinking one of us must have been adopted.”
“We look too similar for that, but I’m serious. Bacon and chocolate is good together.”
“What would that drink taste like?” Shelley crinkled her nose.
“Bacon vodka, chocolate liqueur, Irish cream, and a splash of half-and-half. Sugar-rim the martini glass . . .”
“No, just no.”
“How about this one?” Maddie turned a vodka bottle on the shelf, so Shelley could read the label. “Glazed donut vodka.”
“Ooh, I’ve got it. How about a Cop Martini? Glazed donut vodka, espresso, and Kahlúa.”
“Your years of misspent youth as a mixologist should come in quite handy for this shindig.” Madison chuckled.
Shelley shook her head and squatted, so she could peruse the bottom shelf. “This is just beyond. What have those wacky vodka makers been up to since I left the country?”
“Nefarious stuff, apparently, but hey, I live in hip Manhattan and I never saw this coming.” She held a bottle of PB&J vodka to Shelley’s eye level.
“Do people actually buy these flavors? I mean for real? Oh no! Worst yet!”
“What, what?” Madison bent down to check it out.
“Wasabi vodka.”
“Yikes.”
“I see it now. A sushi-tini. Mix the wasabi vodka with the smoked salmon vodka, toast and muddle seaweed, and—”
Madison waved her hands frantically as if trying to scare off a hornet. “Hush, hush, no kidding, I’m gonna hurl.” She made gagging noises.
The door to the liquor store opened, and the bell over the door chimed a friendly two-toned ding-dong, but Shelley was having too much fun to notice who walked in. It had been a long time since she and Madison had laughed like this together.
“How about regular lemon vodka and make Lemon Drops?” Shelley stood up, holding the bottle of lemon vodka in her hand. “Remember when we got drunk on Lemon Drops and—”
A stocky man dressed all in white rounded the aisle and stalked straight toward her, followed by an entourage of skinny women flitting around him, each also dressed