Julia 03 - Miss Julia Throws a Wedding Read Online Free Page A

Something needed to be done about the unholy mess they made up there.
    Putting pigeons out of my mind, I entered the church through the back door of the Fellowship Hall, and headed for the pastor’s office at the far end.
    And there was Norma Cantrell, the pastor’s secretary, her teased hair frosted to within an inch of its life, sitting at her desk, guarding access to the preacher. Even though he wasn’t there. The woman could stop anybody less determined dead in their tracks, but I knew how to deal with her.
    “Why, Miss Julia,” she said, giving me a smirk that tried to pass for a smile. She was paid to be nice to the church members, but she didn’t keep that fact uppermost in her mind most of the time. “What brings you out this late in the day?You know I can’t do anything about the noise those men are making; that’s all part of building a building. I guess we’ll just have to put up with it, won’t we?”
    “I’m not here to complain about that, Norma, although a few well-placed complaints would not be uncalled for. But, no, I’ve come to see Pastor Petree.”
    “You have an appointment?”
    “No, I don’t, but I need to see him.”
    “He’s busy.” And she shuffled some papers to show that she was, too.
    “Norma, I know that he leaves just about this time to make hospital visits, so he’s going to stop being busy in about two minutes. Now, if you’re not going to punch that button to summon him, I’ll just knock on his door myself.”
    I turned and started across the hall to the associate pastor’s office, leaving Norma sputtering behind me. I just hate officious people, don’t you?
    Giving a sharp rap on the door, I opened it and stuck my head in. “Pastor Petree?”
    Startled, he looked up from the magazine he was reading. “Yes?”
    “Pastor, I’m Mrs. Julia Springer, remember? I had you for Sunday dinner a few weeks ago when you first got here.”
    “Oh, yes, of course. Come in, Mrs. Springer.” He came to his feet, brushing his wispy blond hair off his forehead and smoothing it in place. Then he checked the knot in his tie. “Now, Mrs. Springer, I’ve done all I can do about the noise and dust from that construction work. They have to have trucks and cement mixers and cranes to get their work done, and I don’t know what else I can do.”
    “That building’s not on my mind today, Pastor, you’ll be happy to know. No, I’ve come to schedule a wedding.”
    “Oh?” His eyebrows went up, then came together in a frown. “Are you sure? Perhaps we need to discuss other waysto deal with your loneliness. Widows, especially, are so susceptible, so eager to remarry that they don’t always make good decisions.” Then he smiled.
    I stared at him until the smile faded from his face. “I hope you don’t think loneliness is the only reason a widow would remarry.” But he probably did, being unable to imagine older people in the throes of passion. He had a lot to learn. “Besides,” I went on, “it’s not my wedding we’re talking about.”
    “Ah, I see,” he said, his eyes sliding away from mine. “Well, I hope it’s no time soon. The church calendar is full for the next two months.” He reached for his appointment book and frowned at it as he flipped through the pages.
    “I don’t want the sanctuary; this will be a small wedding. The chapel’ll do us fine.”
    “What date would that be?”
    “Next Saturday, the first weekend in June.”
    He shook his head, and kept shaking it. “I’m sorry; the chapel is already taken for both Saturday afternoon and evening. This is the busiest time of the year for weddings, you know.”
    “Oh. Well, what’re we going to do? My two young friends only have next weekend, and if I don’t get a church and a preacher, they’ll go to the courthouse, and I just can’t have that.”
    A smile started at the corners of his mouth, but he had himself in so much control, it didn’t get much further. I declare, with that pale complexion