Elsie said to Lizabeth. “Must be a hundred people here. I know it’s a pretend wedding celebration on account of you panicked having a naked hunk in your bed, but it’s a good one, all the same.” She rolled a hot dog over on the grill. “You spot the flasher yet?” “No. This is harder than I thought. Half the men in the neighborhood fit his description.” She wasn’t so sure she wanted to identify him, anyway. He’d stopped flashing her, and he’d never really done any harm to anyone. Matt ambled over and put his arm around Lizabeth. “Great barbecue.” He took a hot dog from Elsie and stuffed it into a roll. “We’ve got seven different kinds of potato salad, six bowls of three-bean salad, four casseroles of baked beans, and something very strange with curly noodles that I’m afraid to eat. The desserts are even better. Brownies as far as the eye can see. Mrs. Kandemeyer made cupcakes, Joan Gaspitch made chocolate-chip cookies, and Eleanor Molnar brought a sheet cake that says Best Wishes to Lizabeth and Matt Hallahan.”
