Brenda frowned at the plate. “Now is this the china you’ll be using for the wedding, sugar?”

“No,” Agnes said, distracted again. “Taylor’s got china on order to stock his catering kitchen in the barn, and we’ll be using that.”

Brenda shook her head. “There’s an awful lot that isn’t in place -”

“It will all be here,” Agnes said firmly. “The china, the house, the cake, the flowers, everything. Which reminds me, I tried calling the florist this morning to double-check on the delivery times, but I couldn’t get through. That’s not like Maisie. Is she sick?”

“Oh, Maisie.” Brenda took the plate, shaking her head. “Poor old Maisie, always did have more boobs than brains, bless her heart.” She forked up a piece of the Italian cream cake, taking care not to drop any crumbs on her own significant cleavage. “You’re not going to believe this. She canceled.”

Agnes stopped filling the third plate, and Evie and Maria froze, too. “What?”

Brenda bit into the cream cake, hesitated, and shook her head. “Oh, I think that’s just a touch too sweet, Agnes, but then it’s too soft for your fondant anyway. What? Oh, Maisie. Well, you know how disorganized she is, incompetent really. She just felt overwhelmed by the whole thing and canceled.” She tasted the pound cake and pursed her perfect lips, although her forehead did not wrinkle. “I think the pound cake may be too dry. And you know you’ll have to cover it with the fondant at least the day before, probably two. So if it’s dry now…” She shook her head and then met Agnes’s eyes. “What? Oh, Maisie? Yes. I’m afraid you’ll have to do the flowers, too.”

Agnes felt her temper rise, took a deep breath, and put the last cake on the plate. This isn’t like Brenda, Brenda’s on my side, I’ll just stay calm and find out what happened later, everything will be fine. She turned to Maria, whose jaw was set, but who did not look surprised. “I’ll fix it, you’ll have flowers,” she said quietly, while beside her Evie looked grim.

Very good, Agnes. You control your anger; your anger does not controlyou.

The morning’s not over yet, Dr. Garvin.

Agnes turned and smiled at the table. “Look at this, I’ve been so anxious to get you all cake, I didn’t serve drinks. What have I been thinking?”

Evie picked up the lemonade pitcher and began to pour. “This coconut pound cake is just delicious, Agnes, you have outdone yourself. Lemonade, anyone? Or sweet tea?”

“You know, the chef at the country club does a nice cake,” Brenda said, taking a glass of lemonade.

“This chocolate raspberry cake is really good,” Maria said, straightening.

She had two bright spots of color on her cheeks and fire in her eye, and Agnes forgot Brenda’s betrayal for a moment because Maria was looking a lot like her mother. Lisa Livia may have grown up in the South, but she was descended from a long line of dons and hitmen and Brenda. And, Agnes thought with a sinking heart, Maria was descended from a long line of dons and hitmen and Brenda and Lisa Livia.

“So, the cake,” she said in her best aren’t-we-all-glad-to-be-here voice, waving her cake plate in Maria’s general direction to distract her from whatever was about to set her off.

“I’m just thinking with everything that’s gone wrong, the wedding might be better at the country club,” Brenda said, and Evie perked up.

Rot in hell, Brenda, Agnes thought, but before she could say anything, Maria said, “Did you hear about my dress?”

“Your dress?” Evie said, but Maria was smiling at Brenda. Fixedly.

Oh, God, what did Brenda do to the dress? Agnes thought, seeing the entire wedding go south as the bride killed her grandmother in the gazebo with the cake knife. Barbie Clue.

“Oh, yes, the dress.” Brenda sipped her lemonade, looking blonde and lovely as ever. “Maria had ordered one from New York, but there was no tradition in that, so I canceled it-”

“What?” Evie said, putting down her lemonade.

“-and I’m giving her my wedding dress to wear.” Brenda smiled fondly at Maria, who smiled back. Not fondly.

“She’s at least a foot taller than you are,” Evie said, appalled. “You canceled that dress? She loved that dress. We all loved that dress!”

“It’s all right,” Maria said, still smiling.

It’s not all right, Agnes thought, trying to think of how she was going to get the dress back. And how she was going to get Brenda psychiatric help because she’d clearly gone round the bend. And how she was going to keep Lisa Livia from killing her mother, something that had been imminent all LL’s life anyway. “I-”

“In fact, I’ve been thinking,” Brenda said, and a silence fell over the table, even Evie turning to Brenda to see what was coming next. “What with Two Rivers not looking its best-I’m sorry, Agnes-and the florist quitting, and all, well, I have to agree with Evie that the country club is very beautiful, and they have flowers there anyway, so we could probably just use their flowers…”

Her voice trailed off as three women looked at her in horror.

“Well, it’s too late to get another florist, everybody would understand that, and we can’t have it here,” she said, the voice of reason. “This place isn’t even painted.”

You have lost your ever-lovin’ mind, Agnes thought.

“We cannot use the country club’s flowers,” Evie said firmly. “But I do agree that Two Rivers is a little shabby for a wedding of this stature, so I think that moving it to-”

Agnes said, trying to keep the panic from her voice, “Well, I think- “

Maria stood up. “You know, I just love my grandpa’s big old house. It’s just… the South, don’t you think?” She turned to look at it in all its scraped and scabby glory, Tara with leprosy, and turned back hastily. “And I do want a Southern wedding, in the fine old Keyes tradition. I do believe in tradition, don’t you, Mrs. Keyes?”

Evie nodded, not buying anything yet.

“But I do want a wedding that will make people sit up and take notice,” Maria said, looking at Brenda. “I want a wedding that says, Look at us, we have arrived, we belong. Right, Grandma Brenda?”

Brenda looked up at her, and for a moment she looked hungry, even vulnerable. Agnes thought, Shewonts to belong, she feels as alone as I do.

Maria moved between Brenda and Evie. “That’s what I want my wedding to be, tradition and innovation, the best of both worlds, having it all!”

The two older women looked at each other, united in confusion.

Agnes frowned. It was a nice picture, Maria uniting the two fighting houses, but she was Lisa Livia’s kid, and her cake, her flowers, and her dress had just been canceled, and now Brenda and Evie were trying to hijack the whole damn thing to the fucking country club.

Language, Agnes.

To the gosh-darned country club.

Agnes pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, took a deep breath, and said, “Well, I think that’s wonderful, but you can just forget the country-”

“We’ll have it all,” Maria said, thrillingly. “My wedding in my grandpa’s house, which Agnes will get painted-”

Agnes started at the steel in Maria’s voice and then nodded.

“-and Taylor’s brilliant food, and Agnes’s wonderful cake, and Maisie Shuttle’s gorgeous flowers, which Grandma Brenda will get back for us-”

Brenda flinched.

“-and Evie’s cousin Wesley’s marvelous photographs, and Palmer’s fraternity brother’s uncle’s band, and it’s going to be so perfect, so traditional and yet new.”

“Well, that’s very sweet, Maria,” Brenda said, “but-”

Shut up, Brenda, Agnes thought, seeing the red light behind Maria’s eyes, so like the light in Lisa Livia’s before the carnage began.

“And it will be all of that,” Maria said, her voice rising, “because it will all be tied together by our theme, the symbol of Palmer’s and my future.”

“Theme?” Evie said, surprised.

“Theme?” Brenda said, confused.

“Oh, God,” Agnes said, bracing herself.

Maria smiled at Palmer, out on the lawn, gazing at the grass.

“Grass?” Agnes said, thinking, Green, I could fake green by Saturday.

“Flamingos,” Maria said.

“What the hell?” Brenda said, startled.

“You’re joking, of course,” Evie said.

“Pink,” Agnes said, thinking, Pink, I can fake pink by Saturday.

Maria opened her bag and took out an eight-inch virulently pink plastic flamingo and slapped it on the table. “Isn’t it just hysterical? It’s a pen. Dina Delvecchio sent it to me when she found out that Palmer’s big successful golf course is called the Flamingo. See, the feet are like the holder, and you pull the pen out-”

“Dina Delvecchio?” Evie said, grasping at straws since the flamingo was probably beyond comprehension.

“Maria’s maid of honor,” Agnes said, staring at the flamingo pen. “Bless her heart” Goddammit, Brenda, you had to open your mouth, didn’t you?

“-and we glue the place cards to the beaks,” Maria went on. “They’re only seventy-five cents each, so they’re cheap, too, Grandma. You’ll like that”

“That’s seventy-five bucks for place cards,” Brenda said, looking at the pink plastic with horror.

“And they double as party favors,” Maria said virtuously. “I already ordered them, Agnes. They’ll be here Thursday.”

“Maria,” Evie said, staring in horror at the plastic flamingo.

“So, flamingos,” Agnes said. It was awful, but it was at Two Rivers, so she was for it Marginally. “Arriving Thursday.”