Too Smart for Marriage
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Cathie Linz
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18.9K
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14
Prologue
“I JUST LOVE WEDDINGS,” Hattie Goodie said, her gossamer wings quivering.
“I must say, they’ve put out a good spread.” Betty, the oldest Goodie triplet, nodded in approval as she viewed the tables laden with delectable goodies from lobster hors d’oeuvres and cold shrimp to chocolate-covered strawberries and white chocolate fondue. Her blunt-cut Prince Valiant hairdo matched her equally blunt personality.
“It’s a good thing that, as fairy godmothers, we don’t have to worry about calories.” This comment came from the third sister, Muriel, in her down-to-earth way. She was sitting on top of the pile of gifts displayed on a side table in the ballroom. Hattie, who loved being higher than anyone else, perched on the biggest present while Betty marched along the table edge like a general at a battle site.
“I can’t believe you two would dress so casually for such an elegant occasion.” Hattie, fully decked out in a lavender gown and wide-brimmed picture hat with shoes and purse dyed to match, sniffed her disapproval of her sisters’ attire. “Betty, a T-shirt is simply not appropriate at a wedding reception.”
“I didn’t want to outshine the bride,” Betty retorted, smoothing out the wrinkles from one of her favorite T-shirts. “Read it and weep.” She pointed to the wording: Fairy Godmothers Fly Because They Take Themselves Lightly. “Besides, we’re invisible, for petunia’s sake.”
“One must still keep up appearances,” Hattie stated primly.
Betty snorted with unladylike and unfairy-godmotherlike loudness.
Sensing she wouldn’t win this particular battle, Hattie redirected her ire toward Muriel. “And you, wearing that khaki photographer’s vest. It’s not like you even own a camera.”
Muriel just shrugged. “I like all the pockets.”
Recalling the fight she’d had with Muriel a few weeks before when she’d tried to give her sister a makeover, Hattie decided to let sleeping dogs lie—or, in this case, let fashion-challenged fairy godmothers remain hopelessly out-of-date. Instead she focused her attention on their surroundings once more. “At least the ballroom is beautifully decorated, even if you two aren’t,” she couldn’t help adding.
The Carousel Banquet Hall was awash in white tablecloths and lavender napkins. White fairy lights glittered, revealing flowers and more flowers. In the far corner of the ballroom, dressed in an elegant confection of satin and antique lace, the bride was feeding a generous slice of wedding cake to her groom.
“I’m so pleased that Jason and Heather are finally married.” Hattie dabbed her eyes with an embroidered lawn handkerchief. “I feared this day would never come.”
“Ryan and Courtney did the sensible thing and eloped.” Muriel’s voice reflected her approval of her charges’ actions.
This attitude came as no surprise to Hattie. Being a no-nonsense fairy godmother herself, Muriel approved of similar traits in humans.
“Jason thought Ryan was joking when he announced that he’d been transferred back to Chicago and was returning a married man,” Betty said.
“Jason was just peeved that he wasn’t the first of the Knight triplets to tie the knot,” Muriel replied.
“He doesn’t look peeved any longer,” Betty noted. “He looks happy.”
Muriel nodded. “So does Ryan.”
“Which leaves us with their sister, Anastasia.”
All three fairy godmothers directed their attention toward the dark-haired young woman in a sleek lavender bridesmaid’s dress. Her long hair was coiled on top of her head, displaying a pair of dangling earrings that upon closer examination turned out to be miniature books. She’d exchanged her strappy dress heels for a pair of comfortable white running shoes.
“Okay,” Betty stated. “This time we’re going to take a different approach to our work. With Jason and Ryan we were sort of flying by the seat of our pants—”
“No sort of about it,” Muriel interjected. “We were definitely flying by the seat of our pants.”
Betty frowned. She hated being interrupted. “Ever since we began this job of fairy godmothering and then inadvertently spilled too much fairy dust on our little charges at their christening, we’ve been dealing with our mistake while trying to unite them with their soul mates. Since then, we’ve dealt with a number of other triplets born in our jurisdiction with a fair amount of success. But the Knight triplets have always been unique.”
“Probably because we gave Jason too much sex appeal and common sense as a baby, while his brother Ryan got too much stubbornness and humor.”
“Don’t forget Anastasia. Too much intelligence and attitude. It looks good on her, though, don’t you think?” Hattie said proudly.
“Anything would look good on her,” Muriel admitted.
Turning their attention back to the wedding, the sisters saw that the guests had started dancing. The music, provided by the state-of-the-art sound system supplied by Heather’s employer, radio station WMAX, filled the large ballroom. The song was “The One” by Elton John, which had a special place in Jason and Heather’s hearts. The newlyweds looked blissfully happy, as did Ryan and Courtney.
Anastasia, however, did not appear to be equally pleased. She was dancing with a stocky man who was more than a bit tipsy. When the guy made the mistake of groping Anastasia’s bottom, she stomped on his foot.
“Too much attitude,” Betty stated with a shake of her head.
Hattie immediately leaped to her charge’s defense. “She was more than provoked. That lounge lizard had no business acting in such an ungentlemanly manner!” With a look of undisguised disdain, she straightened her hat, her white-gloved fingers checking the purple bow fastened beneath her chin.
“She’s going to be a handful,” Muriel said. “Do we know who her soul mate is yet?”
“Of course we know. It’s our job to know,” Betty stated.
“David Sullivan. A tough cookie who doesn’t believe in dreams,” Hattie admitted.
“Which is one of the reasons I think we need to have a specific plan for Anastasia,” Betty continued.
“We always say we have a plan, but it rarely works,” Hattie said.
Betty shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well, I’ll admit that sometimes accidents do happen—”
“They sure do, and have you noticed that they seem to happen to us more often than to most?” This observation came from Muriel.
“Which is why we’re going to call in some backup,” Betty said.
“A guardian angel?” Hattie said the words reverently.
“No, a grandmother.”
“A grandmother?”
“That’s right. We need a human assistant in our matchmaking endeavors. One who can keep an eye on things,” Betty said. “After all, we do have other charges to keep track of.”
“What’s with all this we stuff?” Muriel asked. “I thought this was Hattie’s assignment and we’re only here to advise. That’s what you told me when my assignment was to make Ryan fall in love. I mean, Hattie is the one who spilled too much attitude and intelligence on baby Anastasia.”
“Come on now,” Betty said. “You know our motto. All for one and one for all.”
“That’s the Three Musketeers.”
“Well, if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for us. Now, where was I?”
Hattie replied, “You said you were going to get human assistance on this case. A grandmother.”
“Right.” Betty nodded. “I’ve enlisted David Sullivan’s grandmother to our cause.”
“Is that allowed?” Hattie sounded uncertain.
Betty shrugged. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
“Why can’t David and Anastasia just meet and fall in love at first sight?” Hattie asked wistfully.
Betty shook her head. “That would be too easy.”
“What’s wrong with easy? Easy is good,” Muriel said.
“It may be good, but it’s not our lot in life. Come on,” Betty coaxed in her hearty voice. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Any trio of fairy godmothers could handle easy cases. It takes specialists like us to come up with innovative ways to deal with the really challenging ones.”
“What is it that we’re specialists in exactly?” Hattie inquired uncertainly.
“Trouble.” Muriel’s answer was succinct.
“Creating it or fixing it?” Hattie asked.
“Both, I’m afraid. But that’s about to change. Claire Sullivan wants to see her only grandson settled down. She’s raised him since his parents died when he was ten. David listens to his grandmother. With her on our side, this will be a piece of cake.”
No sooner were Betty’s words spoken than there was a scuffle over by the wedding cake. Anastasia was angrily shrugging off the unwanted attention of her stocky dance partner, who still hadn’t gotten the message despite the earlier stomping she’d given his foot. She shoved him. In his tipsy state, he stumbled backward, his arms windmilling as he froze for a moment before falling smack-dab into the middle of the wedding cake.
“A piece of cake,” Muriel noted mockingly. “Yeah, right.”
