Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure what’s going on.” Lia shook her head in confusion.
“Mason is cobbling together a table of young singles and their plus ones and foisting the Redwoods off onto them.” Daff chuckled.
“We’ve been trying so hard to place them with their contemporaries, when the simple fact is, they don’t get along with any of their contemporaries,” their mother mused.
“But that will throw the other tables off balance,” Lia despaired.
“We’ll figure it out,” Mason soothed. “Don’t worry. Once the Redwoods are sorted, everything else will fall into place.”
An hour later they all stared at the completed chart in awe with Mason looking just a tad smug. Lia gasped, clutched her hands to her chest, and burst into tears.
It was almost comical the way Mason’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of her tears, and Daisy, used to Lia’s recent uncharacteristic crying jags, allowed herself a moment’s amusement.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Daff, sotto voce, and Daff rolled her eyes.
“Hormones. She’s totally PMSing, and she’s been an emotional powder keg for the last few days.” Mason blanched.
“I didn’t need to hear that,” he muttered and then looked even more horrified when Lia launched herself at him and buried her face in his chest. His eyes landed on Daisy’s face, and he mouthed a desperate what do I do? Daisy bit her lips to stop herself from laughing and mimed a hugging action. His arms closed around her trembling sister’s form, and Daisy immediately regretted encouraging him to hold her. Lia looked so right in his arms. Her petite, perfect femininity wrapped up in his strong, masculine embrace. He lowered his head and murmured soothing little words into her ear, and she sobbed even louder.
“It’s just we’ve been working so hard,” she sobbed messily. “I thought we’d never fix it. Never. Thank you, Mason.” Most of what she said was complete gibberish, but she managed to convey the crux of it.
“You’re welcome,” he said, patting her back awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, I’m a complete mess,” Lia apologized and stepped away from him, and he released her immediately.
“I’d probably be a wreck too if I knew I’d almost definitely have my period on my wedding day,” Daff cheerfully supplied. She continued, ignoring both Lia and her mother’s horrified gasps. “I don’t know why you didn’t just go on the pill. You wouldn’t have had to worry about this.”
“Why must you always be so horrible?” Lia moaned and fled from the kitchen. Their mother threw Daff a disgusted look and rushed after her middle daughter.
“Do you have to constantly remind her of that?” Daisy sighed, and Daff shrugged.
“She’s been a total pain for weeks. We’ve all been working our butts off trying to get this perfect for her, and all she’s done is mope, cry, and screech.”
“She hasn’t been that bad,” Daisy admonished.
“Please, you haven’t been around for most of it. The other day she screamed at Dad because he forgot to go for his final tuxedo fitting.”
“Screamed at him?”
“Screeched like a harpy. It was insane; I thought she’d burst that little vein in her temple, it was bulging so much. Mom actually forced a Valium down her throat and made her go to bed for the rest of the day.” Daff shook her head as she recalled it.
“Probably nerves,” Mason suggested.
“Maybe she’s having doubts about Clayton Assmonton the Third?” Daff grinned, and Mason’s eyes narrowed speculatively.
“You don’t like him either?”
“Either?” Daff repeated as she glanced at Daisy. “Daisy’s been spilling family secrets, has she?”
“It’s not a secret that I dislike him,” Daisy muttered defensively.
“It is from Lia.”
“So’s the fact that you don’t like him.”
Daff sighed. “Yeah, but she’s so happy.”
“She doesn’t seem happy to me,” Mason said, and both women stared at him in surprise.
“Like you said, probably just nerves,” Daff said with a frown.
“Are you sure?”
“I mean, these are trying circumstances, of course they’re going to stress her out,” Daisy murmured.
“She’s your sister, you know her best. I’m just saying, the woman I saw here tonight isn’t very happy at all.”
And it wasn’t Mason’s place to comment at all. Why was he involving himself in the McGregor family politics? It wasn’t like him, but he found himself genuinely liking all of them, even the constantly acerbic Daffodil McGregor, and, from what he could tell, their soon-to-be-married sister was completely miserable. But they were so busy trying not to offend her by revealing how much they disliked her fiancé, neither of them had noticed how sad she seemed.
“So where are these welcome bags we’re supposed to stuff, and are we allowed to take home any damaged or surplus goods?” he said, trying to lighten the mood, but both Daisy and Daff looked thoughtful and concerned.
“I doubt you’ll want to take anything home.” Daff laughed. “They’re disgustingly boring. Bottled water, handmade soaps, scented candles, tiny bottles of Advil, and one bottle of liqueur. Artisanal”—she spat out the word like it was poison—“candies and cheeses all labeled with the happy couple’s smiling faces, names, and wedding date. Super lame.”