I’m happy to report that none of the mishaps in Marsh Madness by Caroline Cousins happened at the weekend wedding celebration of my cousin Aly on Edisto Island. Aly and Hunter were married under the arching oaks at Cypress Trees Plantation, and the heavens cooperated with sunny skies and then a spectacular sunset over the marsh. A good tidal creek breeze kept the gnats and mosquitoes at bay, and also provided blessed relief from the 90-degree heat for the 175 family and friends dressed to the nines. There was beach music for dancing, fabulous food — including shrimp and grits — for feasting, assorted adult beverages for toasting, and lemonade for the young ‘uns. The bride was beautiful in one-shoulder, draped white satin. Cousin Cayden, age 3, agreed that Aly looked like a princess but was sad that “her dress was broken.” As she noted seriously, “Aly only has one sleeve. I have two.”
Ok, that’s the kind of stuff you can’t make up, so the three Caroline Cousins kept their eyes and ears open for more possible book material. Oh, my. There was the chicken salad crisis before the bridesmaids’ luncheon on Friday. The caterer (new) only made enough for a dozen instead of two dozen. Mild panic ensued before we sent the maid of honor to Main’s Market, where the nice cooks had just whipped up a batch for lunch. We added some grapes, and voila, chicken salad served in martini glasses all around. We also were dismayed that the specially ordered pimiento cheese biscuits had been downsized from regular to mini. We’d have asked for more if we’d known they were going to look like quarters!
The pecan tarts baked by the bride’s grandfather were a hit, although there was a distinct whiff when Aunt Boodie first brought in the plastic containers. “I smell fish,” Cousin Meg sniffed. I wrinkled my nose. “Me, too.” Aunt Boodie said the containers were brand new but did admit that they had been in a freezer full of fish. Happily, the tarts were not affected, and we banished the noxious containers to the laundry room, where the cocker spaniel puppy slept through most of the proceedings.
After the luncheon, Cousin Meg, who had done all the prep and all the flowers, paraded puppy Tilly for admirers. Cousins Janelle and Erin made short work of the clean-up, and I dried and sorted the silver. I could only find seven of my mama’s salad forks (a Gorham pattern no longer available but similar to Old Master), and was getting worried until I unearthed a mangled fork from the silver chest, victim of a long-ago encounter with a disposal.
There’s lots more, but I don’t want to give away what may become a book, or at least a short story. Did I mention that the Baptist minister’s named Buster? And speaking of names, I will not reveal which bridesmaid ended up going “commando.” Nor will I identify the author of the back-handed compliment, “Why you don’t look like yourself at all. You look beautiful!”
My favorite sight, after the wedding itself, was watching flower girls Maggie and Peyton, pictured here with maid of honor Rachel, tearing up the dance floor. Not to be outdone, ringbearer Lance tried to slam dance with his mother to Michael Jackson’s “Beat It!” Cousin Jay (husband and father) just shook his head and cuddled the newest member of the family, 4-month-old Lucy Charlotte.
I have yet to see wedding photos, but Cousin Rachel took this picture the day Hunter proposed to Aly at the old Sheldon church ruins. Obviously, she said “yes.”
Open Book: Caroline Cousins insists once again that she writes fiction.
On a Clear Day I Can Read Forever 