Page 58 of The Best of Times
Once he’d recovered, Aron found his grandmother in the kitchen. She had on a pink silk robe. He thanked his lucky stars the Professor hadn’t chosen that garment. It was even flimsier than the green one.
“What’s going on?”
Granny sipped a coffee. She had that serene expression that she always adopted in a crisis.
“I told you.”
“I don’t mean that,” Aron said. “Why is the Professor creeping around like a deranged woodland nymph?”
She waved her hand at him. “He stayed over. Blame the cocktails. Anyway, we haven’t got time to focus on things that aren’t important. My wedding is collapsing around our ears.”
Aron sat opposite her. It would take many years for that mental image to fade. If ever. Now he had to remain calm and get a hold of the situation.
“Let’s take stock. The reception is fine,” he said. “Hang on, why don’t we hold the whole thing at the Nickleby?”
Granny shook her head.
“The ceremony was supposed to be at one. The room is only available from two after they’ve finished a ridiculous brunch to celebrate the local history society.”
Aron poured himself a cup of coffee from the cafetiere in front of them. He would be needing about a gallon of this to get through whatever the day had in store for him.
“Okay. Anything else I need to know?”
“The Professor spoke to Valerie, who’s our celebrant. She said she can perform anywhere.”
Aron wasn’t sure Valerie would be pleased at being described as a performer. He also thought it best not to correct Granny at that moment. She had the appearance of a woman on the edge. Woe betide the person who pushed her over.
It certainly won’t be me.
“That’s something,” he said. “So all we need is a new venue.”
“With two working days until Christmas,” Granny replied.
That was the bind of it all. Why had she insisted on getting married over the holiday season?
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
“That will be Paul,” Granny said,
“I’ll go,” Aron replied.
He got up.
“This wedding has to go ahead,” Granny said.
“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”
“Of course not,” she replied.
“Then why are you so insistent on it happening so quickly?”
“I love him,” she said simply.
Aron squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll solve this.”
How they were going to do that remained a mystery. He strode down the hallway and flung open the door.
There was Paul, also in his clothes from the night before and looking criminally attractive.
