Wed and Buried by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online

our day. Nobody lived together before they got married, and engagements were usually short.” She sighed, apparently awash with memories, not all of them good. “Mike’s such a nice looking young man. Seeing Mike and Joe together, I realize I’ve never noticed how much your son looks like his father.”
    Judith choked on her champagne.
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    By five o’clock, the newlyweds were off to the airport, the wedding guests had begun to disperse, and the Rundberg contingent had retired to their various lodgings. They would all depart the following morning, which caused Judith an anticipatory sigh of relief.
    â€œWell, I guess that’s it,” Joe said, loosening his tie and cummerbund.
    Judith nodded slowly. “I guess.” The house suddenly seemed empty, despite the debris left by two hundred guests. “I’d better change and get this place cleaned up.”
    Arlene burst out through the dining room. “No, you don’t! Carl and I’ll take care of that. Carl!”
    Carl appeared, his craggy, handsome face bemused. “Yes, Lamb-chop. Where’s your broom?”
    â€œNow, Arlene…” Judith began.
    Arlene Rankers held her ground, pretty features set in a familiar stubborn line. “You know the catering business, Judith Flynn. Good caterers don’t walk away from a mess. You go upstairs and relax.”
    â€œBut…” Judith protested.
    Joe took his wife by the arm. However, he led her not to the stairs but to the front door. A small suitcase sat next to the Victorian hat rack. Judith gaped.
    â€œFive years ago, almost to the day,” Joe said, his face very close to Judith’s. “How about a second honeymoon?”
    â€œOh, Joe!” Judith melted into his arms.
    Thirty minutes later they were in the bridal suite at the Naples Hotel. The floral motif wasn’t the white and yellow of Kristin’s choosing, but the more vibrant orange and lavender hues that Judith had chosen for her wedding to Joe Flynn. Champagne had been replaced by an eighteen-year-old Scotch from a deep Highland glen. The view wasn’t of a smooth, sandy beach in Mexico, but of the glistening hometown harbor and the snow-capped mountains to the west. Judith was ecstatic.
    It was only later, much later, that she realized she couldn’t see the Belmont Hotel from their rooms. Then, as she snuggled next to Joe in the big canopied bed, she wondered why she cared.
    But she did.
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    Everyone was gone by Monday morning. Everyone except Uncle Gurd. He had remained under the hedge Sunday night, apparently waiting to be awakened by his fairy princess, Vivian Flynn.
    â€œWhat are we going to do with him?” Judith asked Joe over their second cup of coffee.
    Joe shrugged. “He’s an adult. So’s Vivian. They’ll have to work it out. If I know her, she’ll send him on his way, and he’ll feel good about it.”
    Ordinarily, Judith would have asked Joe exactly what he meant by such a comment. But she was still feeling euphoric after their stay at the Naples Hotel. Joe was right: Uncle Gurd wasn’t her responsibility. But she certainly didn’t want him sleeping all summer under Carl and Arlene’s shrubbery.
    Joe went off to work, and Phyliss Rackley showed up promptly at nine. “Where are all those good Christian people?” the cleaning woman demanded. “They were my kind of folks. I hoped they’d stay long enough to sit down and have a real good talk about Judgment Day.”
    â€œThey went back into Deep Denial,” Judith answered absently. She was checking her calendar for the rest of the week. The B&B was booked solid through early August.
    â€œThat’s too bad,” Phyliss said, trying to stare down Sweetums, who was sitting on her shoes. “Did you know that your cat is a limb of Satan?”
    â€œYes, Phyliss, you’ve told me that many times.” Judith shut off the computer that Joe