The Wedding Circle by Ashton Lee

lighten the mood. “Well, folks, have we all read our Eudora for the book club review this weekend?”
    Everyone said they had—except for Periwinkle, who indicated she was on the last chapter and turning the pages as fast as she could. “Since you didn’t have an audio for me to check out this time, I had to sit down and actually read a book for once. I was a little outta practice since it wasn’t one of my menus, you understand,” she added, winking smartly.
    â€œSpeaking of menus, I assume everyone has their potluck assignments straight,” Becca said. “Of course I’m bringing the shrimp gumbo in honor of your parents, Maura Beth.”
    â€œFrozen fruit salad!” Connie called out, raising her hand quickly.
    â€œMy biscuits and green pepper jelly as usual,” Miss Voncille added, sounding a bit more restrained. “I know it seems like I’m in a rut, but it’s what I do best. So why mess up a good thing?”
    Maura Beth was up next. “And I believe I’m doing another chocolate, cherry cola sheet cake.”
    â€œI’m fixin’ grilled chicken breasts!” Periwinkle blurted out, but then cocked her head with a frown. “Oh, wait . . . that’s for the dinner at The Twinkle the night before.” She was obviously concentrating now. “For the review, I believe I’m supposed to bring parmesan-stuffed mushrooms.”
    â€œVery good, gang,” Becca said. “It sure looks like all of us are on the same page then.”
    The words stayed with Maura Beth long after the luncheon had ended and she was driving home reviewing everything in her head. She could only wish the weekend would be a matter of menus and that a clash of personalities would not enter into it.

6
    Divas at Dusk
    T he drill was starting to get to Jeremy, but he was reluctant to annoy Maura Beth by saying anything. He knew she was well-intentioned; it was just that she was relentless, and he could only memorize so many pointers at one time.
    â€œNow, on to politics,” she continued, glancing at her notes as the two of them sat up in bed the evening before both sets of parents would be arriving. “Daddy goes back and forth all the time. Sometimes he attacks the Democrats—others times, the Republicans. It all depends upon the issue. He says it’s because he likes to keep all his options open as a registered Independent. On the other hand, I’m not sure Mama has ever even voted, so I don’t know what you can do with that.”
    Jeremy glanced her way with a weak smile and shrugged. “I don’t either. But here’s one for you. Does she complain about the shape the country’s in?”
    â€œNo, not that I can recall.”
    â€œWell, at least she’s consistent. The old adage is that if you don’t vote, you don’t have the right to complain.”
    â€œYes, but maybe you could just avoid political discussions until they’ve both gotten to know you better.” Then she flipped a page of her notepad. “Now, I think religion will be a little bit easier to navigate. As you know, they’re both devout Episcopalians. That’s why they’re so upset with me about wanting to get married up here at the lodge instead of at St. Andrew’s. But you’re relatively cool with the Episcopal Church, aren’t you? Not carrying grudges of any kind, I assume.”
    â€œNone whatsoever, especially since I’m a lapsed Methodist these days,” Jeremy said, unable to avoid snickering. “Although if Henry the Eighth and John Wesley squared off in a prize fight, I’d probably put my money on Wesley in a two-round knockout. I think Henry the Eighth would be a little out of shape. I seem to recall portraits of him with a giant turkey leg hanging out of his mouth.”
    Maura Beth’s laugh seemed a bit forced, but then she suddenly became quite animated. “Oh, and I just thought