Amanda was a solo mother. She had the one daughter, Anita, who was eighteen. Amanda knew that one day, perhaps sooner than later, Anita would get married. She knew that although Anita would say it doesn’t matter she really would like to have a lovely wedding. Nothing lavish; but a lovely wedding with flowers and pretty clothes and a modest but enjoyable feast. Of course, Amanda didn’t have much money but she had saved little bits for a long time. In fact, every Saturday Amanda would sell herbs growing in pots at the town’s Saturday Street Market. It was a dollar here and a dollar there.
Nineteen years earlier, Amanda had got married. She had always dreamed of a wedding. It ended up being “a rushed job” because Anita was on the way. Two weeks later, Kevin was killed in a car accident. It was partly why Amanda was determined to give Anita the best wedding possible.
Suddenly, an engagement was announced! Fintan was the loveliest. Amanda couldn’t have wished for a better possible son-in-law! His father was a lawyer, and Fintan was in his first year practising as a family doctor. Amanda couldn’t wait to meet his parents!
His parents said they’d pay for the wedding drinks; that was the tradition, and Amanda would pay for the rest. They suggested they limit the invited guests to two hundred each. Amanda said she didn’t think she knew that many people, and Fintan’s parents said that it was a good thing because they could invite more on their side to make up the numbers. It was, after all, a society wedding. He was an important lawyer in the town. Things had to be done properly.
What a mess it was for Amanda! What stress! She would have to tell Fintan’s parents that she couldn’t afford it. But first she would have to tell the happy couple.
Anita and Fintan laughed! They had a solution! They’d already thought it out. They were eloping. Tomorrow. And they did!
Fintan was disinherited. It didn’t matter too much because his medical practice flourished. These days Amanda has three grandchildren to help her on Saturdays at her herb stall. Fintan’s parents have no grandchildren; well, none that they care to know.
I’m a heartless brute, but doggone it if this doesn’t tug on my heartstrings a little.
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Fluffy toys have no heart in reality but they are very cuddly nonetheless.
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A circumspect and pertinent observation.
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Danke schön as the French say when in Germany.
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Donkey see, donkey do. -Ancient Chinese proverb
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Yes – although I’m not currently doing anything Chinese until….
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No fear. You won’t be waiting long.
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I was quite engrossed in the story. The details are riveting and fulfilling in a way the end didn’t matter. You have woven in a tragedy and a quasi-tragedy with a pleasant ending —and squeezed in a hard-scrabble life while you were at it —in the web with the silken touch of a past master.
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Thank you, Uma. You are always so encouraging!
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How sweet.
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Sweetness is second nature to me.
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I dislike Fintan’s parents but I really like Fintan and Anita.
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Same here.
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Well shucks if that don’t brighten my overcast Saturday. Well told. I kept waiting for a sinister twist or an ironic slap in the face, but lo and behold, I made it to the end unscathed and encouraged! Way to keep your readers guessing.
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You should know by now that I don’t like unhappy endings – like slashing people with an ax and so on.
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A heart-warming story Bruce, I hope they all lived happily ever after.
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Thank you – I might sell the plot to Danielle Steele!
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