weeks now. They had a relationship, a correspondence e-mailing menus back and forth. She couldn’t just cancel over the phone. That would be extremely rude. And so she got in her Volvo and drove to the office.
She had fully intended to tell Sally in person that the wedding was off. It was the right thing to do, to end this face-to-face. But when she walked into the room, the table was already set with the ivory and taupe linens that they had discussed, and a man handed her a glass of cucumber lemonade. “This is what your guests will be greeted with,” he told her. She took a sip and decided to stay. She could tell Sally later.
And so they ate. They ate pan-roasted halibut with fingerling potatoes, and beef tenderloin with goat cheese medallions. They tried bruschetta and marinated mozzarella. They sampled wedding cakes and pecan diamonds. Weezy left Lemons and Limes, stuffed full and a little guilty. She’d drunk several glasses of wine without meaning to; every time she came close to finishing one, it was refilled right to the top. At the end, Sally had given her a warm handshake, saying how sorry she was that Claire couldn’t make it, that they could do another tasting when the menu was decided, that she’d be in touch to work out the details.
Weezy had sat in her car in the parking lot for almost an hour after the tasting. When she’d stood up to go, she was dizzy and, she realized, a touch drunk. She felt almost giddy, like she’d stolen something, only she hadn’t. It had all been free. Sally had talked to her like she was in charge of something big. She’d treated Weezy with respect and that was nice. The wine was just a bonus.
And that was how, months later, Weezy still hadn’t told any of the vendors that the wedding was off. She’d told them it was postponed, of course. She had to. The date she had originally given them was looming, and there was no way around that. “You know kids these days,” she’d said. “Their lives are so busy they can’t seem to find the time to get married!” But she still sent a note to Sally every couple of weeks, just to ask about new items on the menu, or to discuss what to do for a guest with a gluten allergy.
And so what? So what if Weezy was planning an imaginary wedding? People did far worse things, and anyway, maybe she’d use this information somehow at some point. Still, if anyone had caught her, she would have been completely mortified. And so, when Will walked into the kitchen and she was on her laptop, pricing out letterpress invitations as opposed to engraved, she slammed her computer shut and sat up straight.
“HI,” SHE SAID. She tried to act casual.
“Hello,” he said, and stretched his arms out to the side, which made his shirt pull tight against his round belly. “Just taking a break to get a drink. Don’t let me interrupt.”
Weezy was just the littlest bit annoyed (as she was at least once a day) that Will had a room to work in all to himself, while she was relegated to a built-in desk in the kitchen. When had she agreed to this arrangement? Her desk was often littered with things that people just dropped there, receipts or empty envelopes and sometimes even food wrappers. And there was no privacy with people parading through the kitchen. Will came down several times throughout the day. Of course he was going to interrupt. Why even say that? Don’t let me interrupt. It was ridiculous.
“How’s the writing coming?” she asked. This question was a reflex. She asked it so often, with so little real interest. It was like saying, “How are you?” to an acquaintance in the grocery store.
“Good,” Will answered.
“Are you ready for your class today?” This was another pointless question. Will had been teaching the same two classes for the past five years now, and he could do them in his sleep.
“Yep. I’m all set.”
“Mmm. What time are you headed over?”
“I have office hours at four.”
They were silent for a few minutes and Weezy looked out the kitchen window. “The Connors are having some work done on their house,” she said. “I wonder if they’re getting it ready to sell. There’s been people coming and going all day.”
“Huh,” Will said. He half looked out the window, as though he was curious about this,