Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 04 - Trash Out by Catharine Bramkamp

women?
     
    “This is amazing ,” she continued, “d id you see who was here?  Martha Anderson, Henry Trione, Henry Hansel, why are they all named Henry? That Mrs. Anderson is a serious heavy - weight in the community.”
     
    I smiled at the description. Martha Anderson certainly was a heavy weight, she was an enthusiastic donor in the community: sometimes she donated money , more often she donated her own good opinion. I avoided her when ever possible.  She doesn’t like to be reminded of our last encounter. She also out-weighs me by a good forty pounds.
    Cassandra frowned at the girl , the she scowled at Peter .  “ I assume you can do accounting , paper work , all that?”
    “Anything Peter wants, I can do.” She gazed up at Peter, who, to his credit, reddened.
    “Fine,” Cassandra waved the girl away but the girl did not leave Peter’s side.  “I’ll see you Monday morning. ”   Cassandra hesitated, but the girl did not move.  So Cassandra was forced to stalk away.
    Ben had obviously waited for Cassandra to head to the tent. He appeared by my side and eyed Peter and the girl. “ W e haven’t sampled the chestnuts wrapped in bacon.”
    He nodded to Peter, and Peter nodded back.  But they forgot to speak.  Ben led me away to the pergola where there were, indeed, two plates of chestnuts wrapped in bacon.
    “Fabulous.”  I was about to reach for another when Ben paused , his chestnut suspended in mid air. “Why would she come here?”
    “Who?” I was having pronoun difficulties, first Fred, now Ben. Ben didn’t elaborate either. 
    “I have to go, sorry.”  He kissed me, careful of my lipstick, and hustled off. 
    I popped another oyster into my mouth and waved him on.  As long as he was n’t mistaken as Cassandra’s date, I was good.  I entertained myself by counting the guests. A bout two hundred people were scattered around the facility, and their numbers did not come close to filling up the front patio or the large tent covering the parking area.  I could see that five hundred guests would be easily accommodated for the wedding . This was my real reason for being here, to make sure this site would work for Carrie’s wedding. The oysters were just a bonus.  I noticed that Patrick was here but, lucky me, his sisters were not. I entertained myself by snapping a couple of photos with my phone should I need to defend my position with the Furies.
    “This is pleasant .”  Ben met me back at the oysters , apparently having dispatched the mysterious “her . ” Before he could reach for one, Cassandra materialized from the shadows of the warehouse and grabbed Ben’s arm , cutting him off from the food .  She leaned heavily against him as if she had no energy to stand up straight by herself. 
    “This turned ou t very nicel y.” I said as kindly as I could.  I pocketed my phone and held out my hand for another serving of delectable oyster.  You never know when you will next meet complimentary Hog Island oysters. I was stocking up.  My new friend with the oyster knife handed me another.
    “You can have your wedding here too.”  Cassandra rallied , turned her back to me and offered the place to Ben.
    “Thanks , but we aren’t sure wh at we’re going to do for such a scary event.” He eyed me and I answered by downing another oyster.  He nodded, if the myths are true, it will be a good night for him.
    Why not marry in Cla i m Jump? Why not get married in our new house?
    I paused still holding the empty oyster shell.  That would work, that would make sense, which would even be, dare I say it, fun.  We could hold our reception in the Lucky Masters memorial building at the fairgrounds.  No.
    Ben and Cassandra had fallen silent.  Oh hell, so it was up to me . “We could get married in Claim Jump.”  I offered as a way to keep the conversation from falling flat onto the flagstone patio. “My grandmother would love to help, and it would put your mother at a