Chapter 2
There was no wedding hangover for Justine Clayburn, no emotional letdown now that the big day had finally arrived and finally gone.
A year’s worth of planning culminated in the usual frenzied rush to the finish line, with a thousand details to firm up and loose ends galore.
But they made it, and with the exception of the usual snafus, it went off without a hitch.
Chelsea made it down the aisle and Paul scooped her up and took her away.
Thank goodness they were now in Paris and Justine could deal with the aftermath with no pressure.
Justine was demanding a post-wedding week in the islands to recuperate and Lowell would soon acquiesce. First, though, let the newlyweds enjoy Paris and return home to their love nest.
The waves of photos of the honeymooners brought back great memories for Justine, but by the third day she was growing weary of the almost hourly updates.
She had seen the Eiffel Tower and Notre-Dame.
She had actually been there, as had most of Chelsea’s friends and followers.
Were all those photos really necessary? It often seemed to her as if her own children and their friends spent more time posing and posturing than actually enjoying the sights.
When Lowell saw a photo of an omelet on a plate at a sidewalk café he rolled his eyes and swore off.
Over a light dinner on the patio, she said to Lowell, “This is strange. I’ve heard nothing from Chelsea all day.”
“Lucky you. Maybe she’s finally tired of posing.”
“I don’t know. Her phone seems to be out of order. No texts, no calls.”
“Enjoy the peace and quiet.”
After dinner, Justine called Linzy Tanner, Paul’s mother, for a little post-wedding debrief.
They had not spoken since the Sunday brunch send-off, when at least half the guests, especially the younger ones, were sipping Bloody Marys and nursing hangovers.
The Tanners had seemed just as happy as the Clayburns that the glorious wedding was over and the newlyweds were headed to the airport.
After a few minutes of self-congratulation on such a fine affair, Justine said, “I haven’t heard from Chelsea all day. Anything from Paul?”
“Not a word. They’re in Normandy, right? A full day there and back to Paris.”
“That was the plan. She texted at ten this morning, Paris time, said they were almost there. That was the last word. Now her phone seems down.”
“Let’s enjoy the quiet,” Linzy said with a laugh. “I’m sure we’ll see plenty of photos tomorrow.”
“Call me if you hear something.”
—
Fritz Tanner was in the den watching a Nationals game on mute and flipping through a magazine.
At sixty, he was two years away from voluntarily retiring from a boring desk job with a defense contractor.
Linzy was a year younger and also tired of working but not quite ready to retire.
She taught finance at a community college and enjoyed the students as much as the salary.
Their dream, at times somewhat far-fetched and at other times only a step away, was to sell their home for a windfall, get out of the traffic and congestion of D.C.
, and head for the mountains. One significant hurdle was the fact that they had not yet found the right mountain.
She sat on the sofa, picked up the cat, and said, “That was Justine. Said she has not heard from the kids since early this morning.”
“They’re in Paris on their honeymoon with better things on their minds.” Fritz had about as much of an interest in the hourly updates as did Dr. Clayburn. “Maybe they’ve finally stopped mugging for the camera and they’re consummating their vows or whatever it’s called these days.”
“Too late for that.”
“Are you worried?”
“Not at all. Paul can take care of himself and his new wife.”
“Justine’s a bit jittery, you know? A control freak who’s suddenly out of a job.”
“I enjoyed our time together but I’m not going to miss them.”
“Not at all. But just wait until a grandkid or two shows up.”
“Please. That’s too far away right now.”