Amateur Hour

They didn’t resume the conversation, until after their food had been brought to the table, and the waitress was gone.

“It looks to me like the solution to the squad of Union soldiers might be simple to resolve, if not easy,” Tuck said, digging into his scrambled eggs.

“Simple, but not easy. Isn’t that contradictory?”

“Not at all. The steps are few, but they won’t be easy to accomplish. Step one: discover Jeremiah’s last assignment, and the names of the two men who were with him. Step two:

exhume their bodies. Step three: reinter them in consecrated ground, with their names on a memorial. Problem solved.”

Lisa chewed on her BLT, and thought about it. “That might work,” she said. “Maybe that’s actually all they want. To be known, recognized, and decently buried. Of course, that still leaves me with the Judge, and the Dixons.”

“The Dixons have been letting you sleep, lately. I can tell just by looking at your eyes. No more bags.”

“Well, thank you for noticing the bags under my eyes!” she laughed.

“Technically, I was noticing the lack of bags under your eyes. And, I was a gentleman enough not to comment on them, when they were there, so there’s that.”

“Do you tally up your gentleman points at the end of the day, or is it a weekly thing?”

“Oh, daily, to be sure. If I waited until the end of the week, I’d have to drag out my calculator. Seriously—I don’t know what to say, about the Judge. I suppose it all depends on what he feels he was deprived of. Do you have any idea of where the old boy was buried?”

“None. I haven’t really had the chance to look at the graveyard. I would guess he’d be in the older part, toward the back. Probably not too far from the Union guys. Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something amiss at his grave.”

“If only it were that simple. No, I think the Judge is hopping mad about something to do with the church. That’s where all of his attachment seems to be. He behaves as though he thinks anyone who enters the building is profaning it, somehow.”

“Profaning it…” Tuck mused. “Lisa, do you know whether or not the church was officially deconsecrated?”

“Deconsecrated?” she repeated, blankly.

“Yeah, it’s a church ritual that decommissions a church, allowing it to be used in a secular way.”

“Like for a bookstore. No, I don’t have any idea whether it was deconsecrated, or not.”

“I’ll bet it wasn’t,” Tuck said, crunching down on a slice of bacon. “When it was abandoned, it was abandoned, with a vengeance. I’ll bet no one bothered with that particular ceremony.”

“How would I go about finding out?”

“I suppose you could ask the Diocese, or I could, through my pastor.”

“I’d appreciate the help.”

“It comes with strings, though.”

“Uh-oh. What kind of strings?”

“You have to come to my house, for Thanksgiving. Otherwise, I won’t lift a finger.”

Lisa smiled. “Just tell me what to bring,” she said.

“I like pecan pie. I never get it, at Thanksgiving—only pumpkin.”

“I haven’t attempted a pie, in years. It was apple. One star—would not recommend. I’m willing to try, though. At least I wouldn’t have to mess with a lattice crust.”

“Then, we have a deal.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go to work, so soon,” Lisa said, when they were stopped in her driveway.

“So do I,” Tuck said. Then, he leaned over and kissed her. It was too fleeting. He pulled his face away, to analyze her expression.

“That won’t do,” Lisa said. “You didn’t give me time to kiss you back.”

“On the other hand, I have given you the chance to slap my face, if you wanted to,” he pointed out, before leaning in for another, slower kiss. “Better?” he asked.

“Much better,” she smiled, aware of the butterflies in her stomach.

Tuck grinned and got out to open her door.

“Please try not to get shot at, or anything, tonight,” she said, slipping out of the Jeep’s passenger seat.

“The odds are against it,” he shrugged.

“Are they? Because, I looked at your news clippings, on Toni’s tree. You’ve already been hit, twice.”

Tuck made a dismissive ‘pfft’ noise. “One was barely a scratch, and the other was a simple flesh wound. Besides, we always wear Kevlar, these days.”

“Still…”

“Don’t fret about me. But, I guess I’d better get moving.” He planted another kiss on her lips, and got back in the car. “See you, later.”

“Later,” she nodded, and waved him off, once he was back on the road.

“That looked chummy,” Amanda called to her, coming up the other end of the drive.

Lisa blushed, but laughed. “I suppose it did,” she called back. “How go the preparations?”

Amanda waited until she was a little closer to answer. When she did, she was a little out of breath. “It’s all set,” she said. “Just in time, too—it gets dark early, this time of year.”

“Are you really going to troop up there, carrying torches?”

“No, the torches are placed, already. We’ll be using battery operated luminarias and good old flashlights —even Lila the Luddite.”

“Is that a nice thing to say about your friend?” Lisa chuckled.

Amanda tucked some flyaway wisps of white hair behind her ears. “Honey, she calls me ‘Mandy the Merchant’, and she doesn’t mean it it an entirely flattering way. I honestly think she can’t stand it that she doesn’t have to go all over this town and two towns over, to buy her supplies, anymore. But I suspect she sometimes does, anyway. Still, even Lila can’t argue with solar powered luminarias that light themselves, when it gets dark enough. I just wanted to ask you again, if you’re sure you don’t want to join us tonight, if only to watch.”

“I know it would be fascinating, but I don’t think I can. My brother and his girlfriend will be over again, later, and I don’t know for sure that Tuck won’t stop by, on his lunch break.”

“Okay. Rain-check, then,” Amanda smiled, not affronted.

“Can I ask you…”

“Why I invited you, and kept checking back, with you?”

“Exactly,” Lisa said.

“Simply because you’re a magical being. You have a very essential quality required for it. You’re daring. You could have run from the difficulties here, but instead, you’re trying to solve them. Most people who see apparitions pack their bags and move on, usually the same day.”

“Maybe I’m just stubborn and foolish,” Lisa replied.

“To know, to dare, to will… That’s part of our creed. I’d say that’s you, in a neat bundle. So, I won’t pressure you, other than to say that you’re welcome, and welcome among my sisters. We voted on it,” Amanda added with a smile. “I have a gift for you,” she added, drawing a book out of one of her capacious coat pockets.

Lisa took it, and read the title. It was Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper, by SARK. “A book on writing?” Lisa said, surprised.

“I thought it might suit you. After all, who can love books so much that she wants to sell them, without secretly wanting to write them, too?”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s me, at all, but it does look like a great book. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I read Stephen King’s ‘On Writing’, a couple of years ago, just to see if it was entertaining, and it was. Thank you, very much.”

“It’s a little thank you, from all of us, to you. I got tasked with picking it out, because I’m good at that kind of thing, usually. Well, I’ve got to run. I’m in charge of the wine, tonight, and I have to get myself ready, too.”

They said their goodbyes, and Lisa watched Mandy stroll back to her car. She wondered, belatedly, if she shouldn’t have had everyone sign a waiver, just in case anyone came down wrong on a rock, and broke an ankle. She decided to let it go, this time. But if there was a next time, it might be worth considering.

At 4:00 pm, Lisa decided to walk the dogs. She thought she might have just enough time to do it, before Liam and Janice arrived, and it was already starting to get dim, outside. Getting Gil ready for the expedition was a piece of cake, but Spike, her favorite wiggle-worm, had to be stuffed into the little yuppie imitation Burberry coat, someone (Janice undoubtedly) had provided.

“You’re just a little hothouse flower, aren’t you?” Lisa laughingly asked him, as he wriggled and licked her face, the whole time. Spike was a spoiled little dog, with a good disposition, sneaker wetting habits notwithstanding. She had to admit, once the dressing was over, the coat did look cute as hell, on him. “I’m surprised you don’t have a hat, to match this getup. What’s that? You do, but it’s back at the motel room?”

Unlike Gil, Spike was something of a puller, on leash. It wasn’t too bad, though, considering his size. He was fast and agile; she’d watched him run rings around Galloping Gilligan, who needed more room to maneuver, in the house. She’d be willing to bet her own sneakers (so far not peed upon) that he wouldn’t come when called, if he didn’t want to. Hence, she ignored his sad spaniel eyes, when she released Gil to run, while failing to give him the same opportunity.

“Sorry, Pal—you’d better stick with Aunt Lisa, today. If you got lost, someone would wring my neck, and I don’t think it would be your Daddy. Tell me the truth, now. Why do you relieve yourself on Janice’s shoes? Do you think you own them? Or, do you think you own Janice, and it’s just more polite to pee on her shoes, than to pee on her?”

Spike cocked his head, listening to her with an attentive gaze, but he didn’t offer any explanation, either way. Lisa had to chuckle. Janice was almost absurdly fond of this silly little guy. Last night, she had kept sneaking him bits of chicken and bits of biscuit, when Liam wasn’t watching. Gil had gotten his share, too, but Lisa had put the meat in his bowl, not wanting to encourage begging at the table.

Once Gil was conveniently out of sight, Spike seemed to resign himself with good grace to being walked on the leash, alone. They drifted toward the rear of the property, within sight of the unconsecrated grave. As dark continued to fall, Lisa fished her small flashlight out of her jacket pocket. When she looked up again, small lights began to appear along the visible part of the trail leading to the grotto. The luminarias, Lisa realized, when they began to flicker, simulating candles.

“Well, that’s kind of pretty,” she observed, to Spike. She imagined the whole trail, similarly lighted. A slight breeze blew over her, and she shivered, a little. If she hadn’t had Gil and Spike, and the expectation of impending company, she might have climbed up, just to see what it all looked like.

“I’ll bet they really go all out, for Yule,” she commented. An hour earlier, she had looked up Samhain, which wasn’t easy because it wasn’t spelled the way it was pronounced. She had finally found it after asking Google what pagan holiday was pronounced ‘sowain’. Under the entry, she had found out the names of other pagan holidays, too. Yule, of course, coincided with Christmas. She wondered idly if they switched out their plain, yellowish light bulbs for multicolored ones.

Spike began to get restless, just standing in one place, and Lisa moved him closer to the tree line, so he could do his thing. Evidently, this was what he wanted. He sprinkled several trees, before finally getting down to the serious business. Lisa didn’t have to bag it, but she did. She had no notion of where Gil went, but she’d prefer not to step in Spike’s mess, in the near future, if she could avoid it. Bagging dog poop was gross, but she made sure to praise Spike, even as she performed the task.

They headed back, then. Gil, of course, came when he was called. He always got treats, after a walk, so he never wasted any time returning to her.

She had purposely left the door unlocked, and sure enough, Liam and Janice were inside, armed with barbecue, this time.

“You didn’t,” Lisa said.

“You know I did,” Liam grinned. “I can find the local rib joint a mile away. Jan, I thought I told you to leave that silly coat of Spike’s, at home.”

“You did. I ignored you. He looks very cute in it, and it’s chilly out there.”

“Okay, you get to brush him tonight, then. I hate it, when his hair mats.”

“Fine, by me. He likes to be brushed,” Janice shrugged. “Lisa, we brought plenty, just in case your deputy shows up, later. Hope he’s all right with pork.”

“He ate four strips of bacon, this afternoon,” Lisa smiled. “I’d say he likes pork just fine.” She felt herself blushing again, however. “He doesn’t typically show up, but…” She felt annoyed with herself. This wasn’t a lie, but it felt like one, and dammit, she just kept getting redder.

“Well, if he does, there’s more than enough,” Liam said, giving her a rather prolonged stare. Lisa looked away, first, and began shucking off Spike’s foppish little coat.

“You know, he has the cutest little hat to match that,” Janice said, changing the topic. “But, it’s a rain hat, and he doesn’t like it, very much.” She then bent back to the task of setting out the dinner boxes on the coffee table, so she didn’t see Lisa’s silent snicker.

“Yeah. He also has a satin dressing gown, a cravat, and four slippers, to wear during his downtime,” Liam said. He’d seen the snicker. “We took the pipe away from him, after he nearly set his bed on fire, last winter,” he added.

This time, Lisa couldn’t hold the laughter in.

“Oh, stop it!” Janice remonstrated. “You know, I really miss the smell of that tobacco. Blood Red Moon, it was called.”

“Bet it’s your Dad’s favorite, too,” Lisa hazarded.

Janice grinned. “Of course, it is. Daddy and Spike are both gentlemen of impeccable taste. Only, Spike dresses better. Now, let’s eat, while it’s still warm.”

They all sat down and dug into baby back ribs, cole slaw, garlic bread and baked potatoes. As it happened, they were all famished, and little more passed between them than small talk, while they ate. When they were all three full, there was, indeed, plenty of food for another meal, and it was duly set aside, for Tuck.

“After all, if he doesn’t show tonight, he probably will, tomorrow. He can take it for lunch, or something,” Janice said.

Lisa was just putting it in the refrigerator, when a peculiar sounding knock came, at the front door. It didn’t sound soft, like a hand striking the door. It was more like the sound of a walking cane being used. She rather hoped it wasn’t one of the Silver Chalice gang, as she was coming to think of them, all decked out in witchly garb and long cloak, like an over-aged trick-or-treater. She didn’t know how she would explain that one.

“Trick-or-treat,” a familiar voice called out, from the other side of the door.

Liam got up, and opened the door to Tuck. The peculiar sound of the knock was immediately explained. There the man stood, leaning on a pair of aluminum crutches. A serious brace encased his right left knee, and there were a couple of random scrapes on his left cheek.

“What does the other guy look like?” Liam asked, stepping aside for Tuck to gimp himself over the threshold.

“A fake but very sturdy coffin, on a citizen’s front lawn,” Tuck replied. “Three quarters of the way buried, no less. Never underestimate the skill of the do it yourself Halloween decorator.” He lowered himself onto the chair Liam had vacated, when Liam dragged up another, for himself. “I sure am glad I resisted the impulse to buy a car with a clutch.”

“Are you hungry, Tucker?” Janice asked. “We brought lots of ribs over, and we can warm them up a bit, in the microwave.”

“Actually, I could eat,” Tuck confessed. “No need to go to the trouble of nuking it, though.”

“Won’t take a minute,” Janice insisted.

“Was the coffin the reason you were called there?” Lisa asked.

“Nope. It was the party in the back yard. They were getting a little bit loud, and even though it was early, the neighbors were annoyed. Evidently, the party started around 1 pm, and they were all roaring drunk and had gone through their playlist twice, already by the time we got there. Coffin guy apologized profusely and said they were still waiting for their ‘music guy’ to show up. It was all very civilized, then I turned around and tripped right over the main attraction in the front yard. Popped my knee out of joint, trying not to fall.”

“Prop it up on the coffee table, if you’re supposed to keep it elevated,” Lisa suggested. “Did they give you any pain medication?”

“Percocet, but of course I can’t take that, and drive. It doesn’t hurt as bad as it did, now that I have some compression on it, and some weight off it. My pride is hurt worse than anything. And, of course I won’t be able to ride, for a while.”

“That really is too bad,” Lisa said. “I know you love it.”

“Yeah. It would have to be my mounting knee.”

“Will you get any time off work, Sugar?” Janice asked. “Or will they chain you to a desk and phone?”

“Oh, I’ll get some time off. I can’t type, worth a hill of beans. A ten year-old can type more words per minute than I can, and has a better phone personality, too.”

The microwave beeped, and Lisa put the food on a plate and took it to him. Janice was a step behind her with a bottle of tea and utensils—and a veritable handful of paper napkins.

“You must have been talking to my kids,” Tuck chuckled, seeing them. “Thank you, ladies.”

“Well, we can’t have you getting sauce all over your uniform, can we?” Janice smiled back.

Tuck glanced down, at himself. “Oh. Forgot I was still wearing it. My dry cleaner is a wizard, but better safe than sorry, I guess. How did everyone else’s day go?”

“Your timing is perfect,” Liam said. “We only just finished eating, and hadn’t had time to compare notes, yet. Who wants to start?”

“I will,” Lisa answered. “I already filled Tuck in, this afternoon, so he can eat in peace, while I run my mouth.” She then proceeded to fill them in on what she had discovered, on Toni’s genealogy site, including Tuck’s recommendations regarding the Union soldiers’ grave.

“I think that’s a sound idea,” Liam said. “I don’t know how easy that information would be to come by but, it’s worth a try. Certainly, reburial could be the solution, even if we never found out the names of the other two men. And, even if we’re theorizing about the identity of the one.”

“Oh, wait–” Lisa said, jumping up, and going to a small stack of paper on her kitchen table. She shuffled through them, and brought one sheet to Tuck. He wiped his fingers clean, and took it from her. After gazing at it for a moment, he met her eyes and nodded.

“Yep,” was all he said, punctuating it with a nod.

Lisa handed the picture to Liam, who then passed it across to Janice.

“This is one of your ghosts?” she asked.

“It is.”

“Lord. How old was he, anyway?”

“Sixteen,” Lisa said, with a hint of sadness.

“I think the minimum age for service, even on the Union side was fifteen,” Liam said. “The boy was saved from being canon fodder, only to have something worse happen to him.”

“Worse? How could it be worse?” Janice demanded. “He still died in the war.”

“Worse, because it was personal,” Liam said. “If Lisa’s right, and his own stepbrother had something to do with it, it was very personal.”

“Bordering on evil, maybe,” Tuck said, surprising them all. We can’t know all of what went on, before the family divide, but it’s particularly ugly, any way you slice it. The Judge doesn’t sound to me like someone who would have been standing on the sidelines, if you know what I mean. He would have been fiercely protective and proud of his church. I’ve been mulling it over, all day, and I think Lisa’s right about the entity she and Janice recorded in the church sanctuary.”

“It could have been a momentary, but complete loss of temper,” Lisa said, looking apologetic.

“Or, it could have been psychopathy,” Tuck countered. “I’ve encountered more than one judge who met the criteria. Even more attorneys, and certainly more cops. Bureaucracies are full of them.”

“That’s true,” Liam said. “They crave power over others. Any profession that offers that is irresistible to a psychopath. They’re often very good and very effective at what they do, career wise, but when it comes to personal relationships—not so much. Who knows what kind of dynamic was going on, in the family? All we can do is speculate.”

They were all silent, for a moment. Tuck finished his dinner, and Lisa rose to relieve him of his plate, before flirty Janice could move. Tuck looked highly amused, by this. If he hadn’t already been injured, Lisa might have applied a light tap upside the back of his head. Of course he was aware of the game, and, in Lisa’s opinion, he was enjoying it, too much.

She made quick work of scraping and rinsing the plate, and setting it aside to be washed later, with the others. “Anyone need any drink refills, while I’m up?” she asked.

“No, but I’ll put on some coffee, if you don’t mind,” Janice replied, hopping up to join her in the kitchen. “Who else wants some?”

They all agreed it sounded like a fine idea, even Lisa. She was drying her hands on a dishtowel, when Janice joined her.

“Know what your problem is?” Janice said, under the cover of the casual conversation of the men in the other room.

“I have several, but I’m sure you have a specific one, in mind,” Lisa said dryly.

“Your problem is that you don’t have any sisters. You never learned how to play with other girls.”

“Do tell,” Lisa countered, mocking one of the other woman’s favorite phrases. She crossed her arms and leaned against a counter, watching Janice set about making the coffee.

“I’m trying to help you, not sink you. We can both fuss over that man, but it’s going to mean much more to him, coming from you, than from me. I’m just trying to illustrate that point, to him.”

“I don’t think you’re trying to sink me. I just think you’re an incurable flirt.”

“That’s fair. I always have been. You have to bait your hook, if you want to land a fish, after all. But, I’ve landed my fish.”

The image of her brother as a fish, probably a largemouth bass, suddenly struck Lisa as funny, and she laughed. As she watched Janice scoop coffee into the pot, she noticed a modest little diamond ring on the fourth digit of her left hand. Her laughter dried up, but she continued to smile, if a bit bemusedly. “When did that happen?” she asked.

“This afternoon. We were going to mention it, after dinner. Are you terribly disappointed?” Janice was smiling, playing the question off as a joke, but her eyes were anxious.

“I’m surprised, though I don’t know why. You and Liam have been together for a couple of years. I should have expected it, really. None of his other relationships have lasted for so long. But no, not disappointed.” And, much to her surprise, she wasn’t.

“Thank you!” Janice exclaimed, throwing her arms around Lisa in a big hug.

“Congratulations,” Lisa said, returning the embrace, shyly. “Just promise me you won’t put Liam in Burberry coats.”

“Oh, putting one on Spike is just for fun,” Janice laughed, pulling away. “You take me too seriously, Lisa. That’s what I meant by saying you never learned how to play with other girls. You’re afraid to be silly. You have a sense of humor, thank God, but you don’t just…play.”

“I’ve been known to,” Lisa protested.

“You’re a lot like Liam. You’re both so serious, most of the time. Tuck is more like me. He knows I’m only playing, when I flirt with him, and that’s the reason he plays along. If he thought I meant it, he’d give me a gentle but firm nudge aside. I saw him notice the ring, when I handed him his napkins, earlier. If you caught his big smile, that’s what it was about.”

Clearly, Janice had more on the proverbial ball than Lisa had ever credited her for. Until now, she had considered herself to be fairly observant, but Janice had a gift for social cues, that she did not. If she had ever wondered why some of Janice’s more outrageous comments didn’t prompt anything other than mirth, this was the answer.

“So, do you have a date, in mind?” Lisa asked.

“Not a specific one, but we’d like to do it next summer. I’ve always sort of liked the idea of an outdoor wedding. I know Liam and I are a little bit long in the tooth for fairy-tales, but that was always a little fantasy of mine.”

“Your fantasy involves heat, bugs, possible thunderstorms…”

“It involves taking some risks, yes. How can you brave a new life with someone, if you can’t brave a few elements?”

“Well, you are marrying Liam, so maybe you have a point,” Lisa smiled. She got out the cups, and gathered up cream sugar, taking the latter into the living room. Then, she returned to help Janice carry out the coffee.

“Did you find out anything interesting on the Dixons?” Lisa asked, when they were all settled again.

“We found out that Sophie was well liked, but Richard seemed to have been a bit controversial,” Liam said. “Only thing is, we discovered that, through reading editorials, rather than actual articles. Between them, they did quite a lot of good work, for the church and community, but somehow not as a unit.”

“They each seemed to have their own pet projects,” Janice clarified. “But except for those that were directly involved in the day to day running of the church, they stayed out of each other’s affairs. Almost as though they weren’t married, at all. While they didn’t actively undermine one another’s projects, they didn’t go out of their way support them, either.

“Affairs is a good word,” Liam continued. “The pastor was alleged to have had one or two. Surprising that that made it into the papers, even in the editorial columns, but maybe it’s because it happened in the ‘let it all hang out’ era of the seventies,” he shrugged. “People got away with saying more than they do, these days. Today, you risk your livelihood making a political comment, but back then a well written editorial or letter had a decent chance of making it into the paper, even if the opinion was questionable. One anonymous writer proposed a theory that I just can’t get out of my head, though.”

“Which was?” Tuck prompted.

“That Sophie was murdered, by mistake. That she wasn’t supposed to be there, that night.”

This bombshell had a silencing effect on the hearers.

“Of course, we have no way of knowing how true that is,” Liam went on. “The only person who could verify that, as far as we know, would be Richard Dixon, himself, and he’s long deceased, by now. He wasn’t exactly a youth, when he was assigned here—he was in his mid forties.”

“Funny,” Lisa said, “you’d think if there were a ghost haunting the place, under those circumstances, it would be Sophie. She’s the one who was wrongly killed.”

“True,” Tuck said. “But maybe her conscience was clean, and she died with that. Aren’t hauntings about revenge, regret, and unfinished business? Some people really are just without animosity. They’re rare, maybe even more rare than psycho- and sociopaths, but they exist.”

“Can you just imagine the turmoil you’d be in, if you meant not only to kill someone, but then to find out you’d killed the wrong person?” Janice mused. “Talk about emotions running high.”

“Yet, everything seems to have stopped, in here,” Lisa commented. “Not that it will necessarily stay quiet, but I’ll take it, for as long as it lasts.”

“If I had to guess, I’d say the house ghost is just so much residual energy, from the incident,” Liam said. “The energy is strong, but there’s not much personality behind it.”

“It did kick Gilligan,” Tuck pointed out.

At the mention of his name, Gil got up and carried his favorite toy over to chew on it at Tuck’s feet. Tuck reached down to pet him, with a smile.

“Maybe because he got in the way, though. It’s not like it made it a nightly thing to kick the dog around, for amusement. But, you’re right—that does hint at a kind of awareness of the people and animals on this plane of existence.”

“It is a puzzlement!” Tuck announced in a fair imitation of Yul Brynner.

“That, it is,” Liam agreed. “So, since you’re sidelined for a while, Tuck, will we see you at the morning meeting, tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here, unless the Percocet says otherwise,” Tuck said. “Which is to say, I’ll set my alarm and hope I don’t sleep through it. In either case,” he paused to fish his wallet out of a rear pocket, “tomorrow’s donuts or whatever are on me, for a change. You need to save your money,” he winked, as Liam opened his mouth to protest.

Liam colored a little. “I suppose Janice has already spoiled any announcement I might have made,” he said.

“They saw my ring,” Janice shrugged.

“It’s a very pretty ring, Liam,” Lisa smiled at her brother. She couldn’t help tearing up a bit. “Did you pick it out, yourself?”

“I had a little help, from a friend at work. His wife picked hers out, so he was well armed with tips about what to do, and more importantly, what not to do.”

“And, it’s perfect,” Janice beamed at him. “So, take Tucker’s money, Sweetie, because even outdoor weddings aren’t cheap.”

“I planned to live on love,” Liam retorted, accepting Tuck’s cash.

“Spike needs a tux, for the occasion,” Lisa warned her brother.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Janice agreed. “Something in a nice imitation J. Crew, or Ralph Lauren.”

“The mutt dresses better than I do,” Liam grumbled. “I guess we should collect him, Jan, and be on our way. See if you can wake him up, would you?”