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pounded the table with her soup spoon, emphasizing every word.

“Can I say something?”

“No, you can’t.”

“I just don’t think…”

“Objection, your honor! Hearsay!”

“Overruled,” Brutus muttered, clearly enjoying himself.

Marge, who looked a little teary-eyed I thought, turned to the defendant. “Did you really just want to make Evelina Pytel feel good about herself again, Tex?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes, I did,” said Tex. “And I know now that it was a stupid, stupid idea, and I should have told you all about it the moment Emma Bezel suggested her cockamamie plan to me.”

“It sounded like a good idea at the time,” said Gran. “Like a knight of old, Tex flew on winged feet to aid and comfort a damsel in distress. Pretty obvious that he is the Sir Galahad of our time. Or the Jimmy Stewart.”

For a moment, no one spoke, as Marge seemed on the verge of attacking her husband. Instead, though, she sobbed, “Oh, Tex,” and dove into the man’s arms!

“Oh, Marge,” Tex said, his voice tremulous.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” said Marge.

“And I’m sorry I embarked on this crazy scheme,” he said.

Odelia’s eyes were moist, Gran was beaming, Chase was grinning. Even Uncle Alec was blinking away a tear.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” said Gran. “One marriage saved, and another one about to get going.”

“I don’t know about that, Gran,” said Odelia.

“What don’t you know?” said Gran as she stared at her granddaughter.

Odelia hesitated, then shook her head, and suddenly broke into tears—again! And before anyone could stop her, she shoved back her chair, which clattered to the floor, hurried in the direction of the staircase, and moments later she was stomping up the stairs. We heard a door slam upstairs and Odelia’s dramatic exit was complete.

“She’s sad because we’re not coming to the wedding,” I told Gran and Marge, who both looked stupefied.

“What did he say?” asked Chase.

“That Odelia is sad because the cats are not coming to the wedding,” said Marge. “Is this true? Why aren’t you guys coming to the wedding?”

“It’s going to be complete pandemonium,” said Harriet. “Seven hundred people and counting. Big screens outside the church. Rock concert atmosphere. Cats don’t like rock concerts, Marge. We don’t like the prospect of being trampled underfoot.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but we all think it’s for the best.”

“This is silly,” said Gran. “We can very easily place you guys at the front of the church, right next to the altar. No one will trample you there. And I’m sure Father Reilly won’t mind having some company while he does his thing.”

We all shared a look, and Harriet said, “I hadn’t thought of that. Gran is right. Plenty of space out in front.”

“We’re not coming to the reception, though,” I said.

“Or the wedding dinner,” Harriet added.

“Or the party,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, we’re putting our paw down on that,” Brutus said.

“No, of course,” said Gran. “Absolutely.” She turned to her daughter. “We better go and talk to Odelia, Marge,” she suggested. “The poor thing is all worked up over nothing.”

And both women mounted the stairs, in search of the discombobulated bride.

And thus ended the family meeting-slash-intervention, leaving one marriage happily saved, and a future marriage almost rescued. Not a bad result for an evening’s work!

Chapter 25

Marge and Gran found Odelia in her room, seated on the bed and staring before her with unseeing eyes. She did not look happy.

So her mom took a seat on one side, and Gran on the other, and both started talking simultaneously to get their daughter/granddaughter out of her pre-wedding funk.

“The cats have conceded,” said Gran. “It’s only natural to feel like this,” said Marge.

Marge and her mom shared a look, then started again.

“Your sweethearts are coming to the wedding,” said Gran. “Don’t feel bad,” said Mom.

Another pause.

“Look, if we’re going to do this I think we need to lay down some ground rules,” said Gran. “Either you talk or I talk. So what’s it going to be?”

“You start,” said Mom.

“The cats have decided that they can be at the wedding after all,” said Gran. “They’ll sit in front, right next to the altar, and join Father Reilly while he gives you his blessing. That way they won’t be trampled and you can enjoy your wedding safe in the knowledge that your precious fur babies are right there with you. Now how does that sound, mh?”

“Terrible!” Odelia cried, and buried her face in her hands and started bawling.

“But honey,” said Mom, placing an arm around her. “What’s so terrible about it?”

“Mom, I don’t want to come to my own wedding. How horrible is that? I don’t want to stand there in front of eight hundred people, not able to enjoy the most beautiful day of my life!”

“Eight hundred people?” said Gran. “Surely you’re exaggerating.”

Just then, Odelia’s phone chimed ten times in quick succession.

Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding.

She pointed at the device from hell. “Ten more people who are RSVPing, even though they weren’t even invited. That takes it up to eight hundred and ten—and counting!”

Gran frowned at her daughter. “Did you send out eight hundred invitations?”

“No, I didn’t,” said Mom. “But people keep calling and asking to join the happy occasion, and who am I to disappoint them?”

“But eight hundred people!” said Gran.

“It’s too much!” Odelia wailed. “If this keeps up there will be a thousand, or two thousand, or even three thousand, and it’s going to be complete pandemonium!”

“Honey, honey,” said Mom, “it’s not going to be pandemonium. It’s just going to be…”

“Too damn much,” said Gran.

“Look, can you take me off the list?” said Odelia. “You can go and have the wedding, but I don’t want to come. I’ll just stay in bed and Netflix. Me and Chase together.”

“Chase isn’t happy with this either?” said Gran.

“Not really. He’s just going along with it for my sake. But I can tell he thinks the whole thing’s gotten way out of hand.”

“I just thought you’d be happy celebrating with all of our friends and family present,” said Mom,

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