Page 24 of The Holiday

"Try Heather's house--my guess is that the family is getting ready there." Ruby is already making for the door and is ready to jump into her golf cart when she realizes that Heather is alone in the back room, most likely still icing her puffy eyes. "Shoot," she says, stopping in her tracks. "Actually, Marigold, can we get you to take over Heather duties in the back dressing room? No offense to the rest of us ravishing beauties, but I think you've had the most experience with hair and makeup."

Marigold passes the single roses she's been bundling into bouquets off to Vanessa. She wipes her hands on the front of her jeans. "Definitely. Back room?" She points behind the altar and then hurries off at Ruby's nod to start prepping the bride.

Outside, Ruby takes a long, deep breath. This won't be the first event she's ever brought together on a wing and a prayer, but generally when things go sideways, it's an event where the caterer brought the wrong brand of non-dairy creamer for the coffee, or one of the keynote speakers is feeling a bit nervous and just needs some encouragement. Having a good friend's wedding day in flux feels a bit more personal to Ruby, and she understands the magnitude of getting this right. It's going to take a heck of a lot more work than convincing a finicky event planner that Silk and Coffee Mate are totally interchangeable for most people, or reminding a guest speaker that it never hurts to try the old trick of picturing the audience in their underwear.

At Heather's house, Ruby knocks and is let in by a jovial man with thinning hair and a bright red bow tie. "Hi," he says, offering her a hand to shake. "It's such an honor to meet you. I'm Matt, Celia's husband." As he talks, two little kids in dress up clothes run around the house, shouting at one another gleefully as they jump over ottomans and hide behind couches. "Sorry," he says, nodding at the kids. "My son and daughter just get really excited when they hear they're going to an event where there will be cake."

As if in response, the little girl climbs up on the couch in her tights and dress, shoves both fists in the air like she's just won a prizefight, and shouts, "CAAAKEEEE!"

Matt looks back at Ruby and shrugs. "Again, sorry."

“Not to worry. I’ve raised two rowdy cake-lovers myself," Ruby says with an understanding smile. "Listen, Matt, I was actually hoping to talk to Dave. Is he dressed and possibly willing to see a visitor?"

"From a former First Lady on his wedding day?" Matt lifts an eyebrow. "I think he'd be crazy not to. Most of us get a visit from our drunk Uncle Howard before the ceremony, and we have to listen to his outdated advice on how to keep a woman happy. But a visit from Ruby Hudson is a horse of a different color."

Ruby laughs at this. "Well, I hope I can at least match Uncle Howard's wisdom."

Matt disappears into the back of the house for a moment and then pokes his head out into the front room and beckons for Ruby. “Right this way," he says.

In the ground floor guest room, Dave is standing before a full-length mirror, nervously tying and re-tying his own bow tie. He turns when he sees Ruby enter the room, then nods to Matt that he can close the door when he goes.

"Mrs. Hudson," Dave says formally. He lets his hands fall from the tie that he can't quite manage to get right.

"Do you mind?" Ruby nods at the tie as she sets her purse on the foot of the bed. "I used to do this for my husband all the time before he went out."

Dave looks taken aback. "I'd be honored," he says. "It's not every guy who can say that the woman who used to tie the President's bow ties has done his for him on his wedding day."

They stand there in amiable silence as Ruby futzes with his tie, looping it and fashioning a perfect bow on her first try. As she works, she catches a glimpse of Sunday and Celia outside together, standing on the small patch of lawn and talking seriously.

"So," Ruby starts. She pats both ends of the bow tie and smoothes them down. "Heather is feeling a bit uncertain at the moment." Ruby makes a point not to look Dave directly in the eye, but to let him process this information slowly. "Not about marrying you, but about how you might be feeling."

Dave is quiet, contemplative. "I see," he says. He clears his throat. "It's an emotional thing, a wedding."

"It is," Ruby agrees. "And your wife has been gone--how long?"

"Three years."

Ruby gives a single nod. "It's an interesting thing, moving on," she says. "I had a bit of a hard time myself."

"When you lose them, you don't really get their input on what you do next, do you?" Dave asks, turning to look at his reflection in the mirror again. "I can't really know what Lila thinks, and all I have to go on is my own feeling, and the input of my kids."

"Mmm," Ruby says noncommittally. "Kids do have opinions."

"Were yours okay with you dating Dexter North?" Dave asks. "If I may be so bold as to inquire?"

"You may." Ruby smiles at his reflection as she stands behind him. "My girls felt like me moving on was a healthy thing to do. Of course, my circumstance and yours are different, but we are both in love with someone who is a bit younger than us, aren't we?"

"Maybe men age a bit faster, Mrs. Hudson, because I never would have noticed an age gap between you and Dexter."

Ruby grins at him. "You're sweet. Dexter is fifteen years my junior," she admits.

"And Heather is twenty-five years mine."

"Neither is an insurmountable gap, but by the same token, neither is insignificant," Ruby muses.

"Indeed."

"Do you have any misgivings about that?"

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