Page 31 of Bride Games

“Last year, Mrs. Roberts studied up on her calligraphy. She was going to handwrite Paige’s wedding invitations, but as we both know, that fell through.” Emma set her wine on the counter. “Be right back. I’m going to ask her if she’ll address our invitations.”

“Great idea.”

Emma bounded outside and let the screen door slam behind her—something she usually scolded Lucy for—but forgot about in her excitement. “Mrs. Roberts, do you have a minute?”

The older neighbor turned her direction while holding a clothespin in her mouth. She bobbed her head.

Emma reached for the end of a flat sheet. “Let me help you.” They quickly fastened her floral sheets to the line. Grinning, Emma said, “I love that you still use an outdoor clothesline.”

“You can use it anytime you want, dear.”

Giggling, Emma said, “I don’t love it that much. But thanks for the offer. I do have a request, though. It’s kind of a big ask and don’t be afraid to say ‘no’.”

Mrs. Roberts refastened an end that came loose. “Let me guess. You want me to babysit Lucy so you can go out with your handsome fiancé. Is that it?”

“Yes, probably someday soon, but this is a much bigger request.”

Mrs. Roberts placed a hand on Emma’s arm. “You’re like the daughter I never had. Ask me anything, dear Emma.”

“Remember when I asked you to address my friend’s wedding invitations using beautiful calligraphy last year?”

“Of course. I told my Bunco group. I remember they were extremely impressed.” She shrugged. “I was thrilled to finally have some news. But, of course, the wedding didn’t happen.” Brows knitted, Mrs. Roberts said, “Poor Paige. I miss seeing her on the news. I hope she’s happy.”

“She’s much better off without Trent and seems pretty happy with a fairly new coworker. Anyway,”—Emma’s voice rose—"how would you like to addressmywedding invitations? Mine and Eli’s, of course.”

Mrs. Roberts hugged Emma. “Are you kidding? It would be the honor of a lifetime. I adore you and he’s such a sweet man. So good with little Lucy. And such a looker too.”

Laughing, Emma said, “Yes, he is. Thank you so much.” Emma hugged her neighbor so hard the woman nearly lost her balance. “I’d be happy to pay you for your time.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want a cent. It’ll help me pass the time.” Mrs. Roberts’ face brightened. “Just wait until I tell my Bunco group that I’m back in business. They’ll be so envious.”

“Wonderful. We’ll decide on invitations soon, but in the meantime, I’ll ask Nigel at Bride & Joy if he can give me the envelopes in advance. That way, you can get started.”

“Will it be a large wedding, dear?”

“I’ve hardly had time to think about who to invite. Eli and I have been discussing colors, venues, and a few other things.” Shrugging, Emma admitted, “I really don’t know how many people we’ll invite. Everything has been a blur since he proposed.” A nervous giggle escaped. “We need to decide soon, obviously. We won’t have a huge wedding but will invite all of his teachers, principal, you, of course, Paige, Zach, her boyfriend, and Nigel. I’m sure I’ll think of a few others.” Emma snapped her fingers. “Oh, I need to invite my repeat author clients. We’ll work it all out, and you’ll be the first to know.” Emma blew Mrs. Roberts a kiss as she bounded up her stairs, turned back, and shouted, “You’re the best.”

Emma rushed inside, letting the door slam again. She gave Eli a hug. “Mrs. Roberts agreed to address our invitations using beautiful calligraphy.”

Lucy appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Cawig— What, Mommy?”

Emma pinched her daughter’s cheek. “Calligraphy is a fancy way to write. I bet Mrs. Roberts will show you how the next time you see her. That would be a fun project for you two.”

Eli put his arms around both of them. “Before we get totally consumed with wedding planning, I think we need a family outing—and soon.”

Lucy and Emma both asked, “Where?” in unison.

Tugging on his chin, Eli said, “You’ll see. Actually, I’m still deciding. It’ll be good, though.”

29

Paige

Paige thought she was dreaming, rolled over, but realized her phone was vibrating. Half asleep, she reached for her cell on the nightstand. She squinted in the darkness while she read a text message:

I’m going to destroy you.

Shaking, Paige struggled to sit up in bed as she studied the short text, which stated exactly what she first read. Mouth agape, she wanted to fling her phone across the room. It felt as if she were holding a viper—or something equally terrible like lava that would make her hands melt off. Attempting to steady her breathing, she doublechecked the alarming message and attempted to determine the sender. She scrolled a few other texts, mostly spam, and realized the sender had somehow managed to block his or her phone number. It was impossible to tell who sent it.

---