Free Willa by Heart by Coleen Murtagh Paratore

the other side of the lake, at the very same moment, Simon was being rowed out on another ganola, and the two boats met in the center and …”
    I force myself not to look at my mother. I’m remembering her Weddings by Havisham studio and the easels where she’d display the TwelvePerfect Ingredients of her masterpiece weddings, and I’m afraid if our eyes meet, she’ll start laughing or crying. I get a picture of those “ganolas” in my head and picture these hunky muscle-beach lifeguards rowing Suzy
row-ee-o, row, row.
And where will the sixteen bridesmaids be? And I dig my nails in deeper.
    â€œOh, and …,” Suzanna continues, “I want tons of dancing. Tons and tons of dancing. Maybe you can hire that jazzy babe who ran the turkey dance you had in the barn last Thanksgiving.”
    â€œShirley Happyfeet?” Stella asks.
    â€œThat’s right,” Suzanna says. “Happy feet. Happy feet all night long.”
    Stella and I take notes as Suzanna talks. I can tell my mother is exercising every ounce of self-control to just listen, open minded. What Suzanna is describing is a far cry from the work-of-art weddings Stella Havisham was known for. But I’ve got to hand it to my mother. That steely coat of armor she used to wear seems to be in permanent storage. She actually seems to be enjoying this.
    â€œAnd I want pony rides and clowns for all my little cousins …,” Suzanna sails on.
    My mother sets down her glass of tea quickly.
    â€œAnd, wait …” Suzanna gets a new idea. “What about acrobats? You’ve got all those lovely tall trees….”
    Mom goes over the menu choices, and I explain how we are working on a Bramblebriar Inn signature wedding cake that will make its grand debut at Suzanna’s wedding.
    â€œYummy-yum-yum-yum,” Mama B. says, smacking her lips together like she can taste the frosting already. “Better make it a big one. Everybody in the family has a super-size sweet tooth. Never skimp on the suga’ when the Blazers are in town.”
    â€œThe signature cake was Willa’s idea,” Mom says. “I think she has my wedding planner genes.” She sets her pen on the table and rests her hand on her stomach.
    I smile, nodding slightly toward her stomach and then at our guests with an expression like,
Are you going to tell them?
    Mom smiles and winks at me. “Oh, and we have some news, ladies,” Mom says. “It’s early and we really aren’t telling many people yet, but … Sam and I are expecting a baby.”
    â€œA baby!” Mama B. shouts.
    â€œA baby!” Suzy-Jube shouts. They rush to hug my mother.
    â€œWait till Papa B. hears you’ve got a guppy in your tuppy,” Mama B. says. “He can’t wait to be a granddaddy. He’ll be ordering dollhouses and rocking horses and train sets and … is it a boy or a girl?
    â€œIt’s still too early We don’t know yet,” Mom says.
    â€œOh, Willa, how wonderful,” Suzy-Jube says, hugging me again. “You’re going to be a big sister!”

CHAPTER 13
Fly, Mama, Fly

    Some people ain’t made for small-town life.
    â€”
Our Town
    After our wedding-planning session, Suzy-Jube and I have a chance to talk, just the two of us. I tell her about Mariel Sanchez and how she and JFK were a perfect match at the dance and how JFK called her Mare when we ran into her outside Nana’s store and how she’s beautiful and how she hugged him—
    â€œOkay, honey, hold it right there,” Suzy says.
    She stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “Listen up, because this is important.”
    I lean in closer, all ears.
    Suzy checks her gorgeous face in the mirror. Straightens a lock of hair. Turns around and looks at me. “I always found with boyfriends—andbelieve me, I’ve had a gazillion—that the best thing to do is play your hand straight up. Lay your