There was a palpable sense of purpose as Abigail, Alexa, and the others parted ways on Monday morning. The weekend of secret wedding planning, tasting, scheming, and mouthwatering Mediterranean mezze had forged a bond between Alexa and Abigail and by extension to all the Merry Widows, who pledged support of their efforts. The wedding would go on, even if the bride had other ideas.

Only Sarah was crying like a lovesick teenager, having said goodbye to Lloyd the previous night. Ming, representing the Merry Widows, who had been depressed about the sudden implosion of what had been shaping up to be a very festive holiday wedding, not to mention the departure of her new friend Abigail, with whom she shared a love of David Austin roses, landscape painting, and household help, rallied some positive energy to support Sarah. Secretly, Ming felt like the fairy godmother of Sarah and Lloyd’s relationship, a role that gave her hope and made her feel young, a welcome commodity these days. She patted Sarah’s back, wrapped in the gifted raspberry silk, while Ricky put the bags in the trunk of the black sedan. “Call or text me any time. If you need me to do a drive-by of his condo, I will. I’m here for you.”

Alexa, in her signature velour tracksuit, stood with Abigail, back in her multilayered navy travel outfit. “Be in touch. Tell me what you learn from Chase when you speak to him. I’ll do the same with Penny. We need to give them time to realize their mistake. We can’t rush them. It’s better if they fix this themselves. But if not, we formulate a plan before we lose those deposits,” Alexa whispered to Abigail. As every mom knew, guilt was the mother of all motivators. And Penny had shoveled a load of it on Alexa.

“I’ll start a Google Doc,” Abigail whispered back, as if this were some sort of top-secret communication tool. “We share what we know and work from there.”

“Don’t leave us out!” said Ming, who unlike Frannie, must have hearing like a bat. “The Widows want in.”

Sarah cracked a small smile. “I like it. Operation Butterfly is in play.”

And with that, Ricky whisked the MOG and the SOG to LAX. And the Montecito contingent did what they did best: They went to lunch to work out the details.

Chapter 25
The Pickup

The Mother of the Groom