“I thought you just said they were letting it be torn down.”

Jane nodded. "Fond enough, at least, to have one last big party there before making a killing on the country club deal.”

After an hour, they stopped at what they judged to be the last outpost of civilization that served breakfast and Shelley asked, "Has the seamstress finished the wedding dress?"

“Oh, yes. And it's beautiful. Mrs. Crossthwait is a very difficult woman, but her work is fantastic. It's just the bridesmaids who might have to wear pattern pieces and swatches. They all agreed to come today for their final fittings."

“What are their dresses like?"

“All different. I picked a cherry pink slubbed silk and let them each choose whatever kind of dress suited them."

“Jane! What a good idea. Bridesmaid dresses usually are to the taste of the bride, not the wearer, and hang around useless in closets the rest of their lives. I still have the revolting yellow pinafore thingie I had to wear in a cousin's wedding just because I can't stand to get rid of something I've only worn once. Can you picture me in a pinafore-style dress?”

Jane laughed at the image. "I understand these girls — there are three of them — are very different shapes and sizes. One is wearing a little slip dress with a matching shawl scarf. The plump one picked a boxy jacket and A-line skirt and the third is froufrou. Sort of 'plantation prom,' from the looks of the pattern. But at least they'll all have the same color and fabric. And the bride is carrying a bouquet of matching pink tulips."

“Jane, I hate to admit it, but I'm really impressed. You figured this all out yourself?"