As agreed upon the day before, Connie Sue, Pam, Monica, and I formed a committee in search of the perfect gift for the newlyweds. Our task was complicated by the fact that Claudia, if she wanted something, bought it. Bing, bang, boom, she’d whip out her credit card. The Babes had given the four of us a price range and charged us with finding something “appropriate” for a woman who had everything, including a shiny new husband.

“I could have driven,” Pam said for the third time.

“I know, sugar, but we can fit more into my Lexus than that little PT Cruiser of yours,” Connie Sue told her as she made a beeline for Macy’s. The rest of us tried to match her pace.

All of us were aware of the importance of having enough room to accommodate purchases after a shopping spree. Augusta, Georgia, is home to the nearest mall of any size. It’s only a hop, skip, and a jump down the road from Serenity Cove, but a big hop, a big skip, and a very long jump. When we go, we take a list and make it into an outing. And no outing is complete without show-and-tell afterward.

“Let’s find a wedding gift first,” Pam suggested. “Afterward we can separate.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Where do we start?”

Monica studied the store directory. “How about cook-ware?”

I wasn’t fooled by Monica’s sly suggestion. She was Martha Stewart with dark hair and a fetish for tiaras. “What about home décor?” I asked innocently. “Lance can never have enough frames to hold all his photos.”

“Kate, shame on you,” Pam said with a shake of her head. “We could check out bed and bath. Maybe get a nice set of towels.”

“Sugar, there’s a time to be practical and a time to be extravagant.” Connie Sue tapped a French-manicured nail on the directory. “I was thinkin’ of somethin’ more along the lines of kitchen electronics.”

Soon the four of us were in a heated debate over espresso machines-which to the best of my knowledge, Claudia didn’t own.