“This is certainly going to make a picture-perfect place for homes.” She took a second look at the rolling hills and heavily wooded scene.
“Since we were right here, I wanted to take a minute to show it to you. Guess I’m like a kid with a new puppy and wanting to show it off.” He turned back onto the highway and headed for town. “If we’re going to get cappuccino and get you to your appointment, we’d better move along.”
Lucinda agreed. “Thanks for showing me the place. I didn’t even know that little road was out there. Guess I don’t get away from business often enough to see much outside of client needs.”
“You need to get away once in a while. Who knows, you might see a place where you’d like to build a house or open a new shop.”
Lucinda had to laugh at his suggestion. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for more than my clients and my little apartment above the shop. It’s small, but I can’t say I really ‘live’ there. It’s sort of a place to leave my things while I’m at work and a place to shower and sleep when everything else is done. I live in the shop more than I do in my apartment.”
“I see.” Jeff paused. “It doesn’t sound much like home. More like camping out but with better facilities.”
Home? No, it doesn’t sound like home. It sounds like what it is, a closet, a bed, a bath, but nothing like a home. “I haven’t had anything you could actually call a home in a very long time,” she answered. “Weddings and celebrations take so much out of me, I don’t have anything left at the end of the day. Certainly not time enough to search the area for a change of address. I was lucky the shop came with an apartment over it when I moved in.”
He looked away from the road for a second. “Oh? You’re not from here?”
Lucinda shrugged. “No, I grew up, for the most part, in the tall towers of Dallas. Spent a few years, after my mother died, out in the country with my aunt and her six kids. Went off to college, got my first job in the city, saved a little money, and five years ago went into partnership with a colleague to open Spotlight Celebrations. She got married two years ago and moved to Los Angeles, so I bought her half of the business. Since then, I’ve never really had the time or money to spend on creating anything beyond my hidey hole above the shop. And it works fine for me.”
“What did you like better, living in the—what did you call them?—tall towers of the city, or in the country with your aunt and her brood?”
A memory brightened Lucinda’s outlook for a moment. “Oh, living in the country with my aunt and cousins. A huge old farmhouse, and such a flock of kids, two older than I was, one just my age, and the rest younger. We had something going on all the time—a birthday, a school dance, always an event to plan. And somehow I always got to make the arrangements. Aunt Lina cooked, and everyone else decorated. But I got to make the plans.” She laughed. “I suppose that was my on-the-job training. Must have been good training, because I’m still doing it, just on a bigger scale.”
He maneuvered his sedan through an opening in traffic and turned down a side street to miss the heavily traveled intersection. “You said you did your college roommate’s wedding. Was that your first one?”
“It was. Patty was going to elope, but I kept telling her she’d be cheating herself out of all the wonderful memories. Either I was persuasive or she got tired of hearing me; either way, she agreed, and we did a pretty little ceremony in the college chapel. I even made her dress.” Lucinda still remembered the frantic week before the wedding, when she was madly stitching up a silk dress and coat between taking final exams. “We tied a pretty good knot. It’s never come undone.”
Blocks of small houses and side streets streamed past the window. Jeff stopped to pick up cappuccino for them, and they finished the frothy cups before he broke the silence. “You said you enjoyed living in the farmhouse with your aunt and her children. Quite a change for a city girl.”
“It was, but I loved it.” The fun we had in that house! Not much money, but nobody felt poor. “It was old and didn’t even have air conditioning, but we could open all the windows and smell the fields around us. In the winter, we’d hear the wind under the eaves blowing a gale. The house had a screened-in porch where I could read or have a heart-to-heart talk with a cousin or a friend in private. And two of my cousins and I slept in a room with a dormer facing out into the night sky. From my bed I could see billions of stars. When it rained on our metal roof, the patter sent me off to sleep in an instant.” She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. “I guess maybe I haven’t made an effort to move from the apartment above the shop because the farmhouse is my idea of home. Anything else would just be a disappointment.”
They continued in silence until Lucinda realized the car had stopped in front of Spotlight Celebrations. Jeff pulled to the curb and stepped out into the driving wind. His hand at her elbow was a welcome assist when she emerged from the warm car into the northern blast.
“I think you have some great ideas for my girls, Lucinda.” Jeff stood beside her as she unlocked the shop door. “Maybe we could arrange to talk to them; we have family conference calls all the time. I’d like for the girls to hear what you’ve been suggesting to me. I know they’ll have questions I can’t answer with any degree of intelligence. You’d know exactly what they need to hear.”
The wind and cold made her fingers stiff and the key hard to turn in the lock. Lucinda managed to get the door at last, and Jeff followed her inside, continuing the conversation. “What I’m thinking is this. Maybe I could pick you up tomorrow night, and we’d make a short detour by my place long enough to talk to the kids. Then you and I start checking out some of those restaurants with catering services. What do you think? Can you work in a telephone visit tomorrow evening? Or at least the evening after?”
Lucinda left her coat on the chair beside her desk, turned on her desk lamp, and checked her appointments. She was certain she had a late meeting the next day, but she didn’t recall exactly how late. She might be able to join Jeff for his family conference. She’d like to have more contact with Candace and Shelby than just the e-mails they’d exchanged. And dinner with Jeff? The thought came unbidden, and she clamped firmly down on her too-eager imagination.
“If we can plan the call for around eight? Or is that too late?”
“Not too late.” Jeff pulled his scarf up and prepared to brave the wind again. “Shall I pick you up here, say, quarter of eight? And if you have a list of the restaurants you think will be suitable, I’ll make reservations for a late dinner for us at one of them.”
A printed list was in her file. Lucinda pulled a copy from the folder and glanced down it. “Three of these places are capable of handling the unique needs we have.” She circled the places in red pen. “And this fourth one is a possibility. I haven’t used it for a large event, but the food was wonderful for the two small affairs it handled for me. We might talk to them first.”
He took the list she offered, and somehow his hand covered hers. “I’ll look forward to getting you and my girls together,” he said at last, tucking the list into an inside pocket. “I think…I think they’re going to be very glad to have you overseeing things. I know I am.” Before she could frame a reply, he brushed the tips of his fingers across her cheek. “I’ve had an afternoon in the company of a beautiful woman; wish I had more projects with such an advantage.”
Chapter 3
Lucinda didn’t know exactly what she expected when Jeff picked her up from the shop the next evening. She hadn’t really thought about where he might live or work. If she had, her first idea wouldn’t have been a penthouse at the top of the only tall office building in town. Only twelve stories high, the building was still the most impressive thing on the skyline. As she walked into what had probably been intended to serve as a living area, she saw a bank of computers, a wall covered by pages of pen-and-ink sketches, and office fittings filling the floor space. The desk, credenza, and two ergonomic desk chairs took the center of the room, while an enormous draw
ing board was wedged beneath the tall corner windows.
Jeff waved a hand at the impersonal space. “You told me you virtually live in your shop. I confess to having the same problem. I finally realized I was spending more time at the office than anywhere else, and it didn’t make sense to have all this space, when I never used anything but the front office. So I moved my living quarters here. I just renovated a couple of spare offices and the coffee room into something habitable. My version of a place to live is about as Spartan as yours.”
Lucinda searched for something positive to say. In her mind, it looked grim, sterile, and depressing. For “living at the office,” she preferred her rose-and-ivory shop with its two large show windows looking out at the passing traffic. “I’m sure it’s more efficient for you. And I know how convenient it is to have your materials at hand if you suddenly see the answer to a problem in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, it’s efficient, but I could find better places to entertain a lovely lady, I know.” He pulled one of the office chairs forward. “We won’t be here any longer than it takes for our phone call. Have a seat, and I’ll get you a glass of wine. I found a particularly good cabernet I’d like for you to taste.”
As he left the room to get the wine, Lucinda’s attention was drawn to the numerous sketches pinned to the wall. More than a dozen drawings, mostly in pen-and-ink, lined the white expanse. Three or four had a wash of color finishing them. She drew closer and marveled at the precise detail of each one. Houses, all sorts of houses, paraded from corner to corner. In one sketch, she saw a starkly modern dwelling, all angles and shining glass. Next to it was a low, rambling ranch house. Each one was different, but all were a delight to see. She’d gazed over most of the sketches when her attention stopped, riveted to the small drawing at one end of a row. Moving closer, until she could see every pen stroke, Lucinda studied the outline of the house. Porch edged by a turned railing, bay window gleaming behind the porch, dormers peeking out of the roof, and windows topped by fanlights, it was a smaller version of Aunt Lina’s farmhouse. Exactly the house she’d carried in her happiest dreams.
“Find something you like?” Jeff’s voice brought her back to the moment.
Lucinda turned to accept the glass he offered. “The farmhouse, the one at the end of the row. Where is it?”
“It’s nowhere, except in my head. I’ve built most of those houses you see there, but somehow no one has ever had the right place, or the right taste, for that one.” He settled into one chair as she continued to examine the sketch on the wall.
“I told you about my aunt’s house, the one where I lived when I was in high school. It looked like that.” She took a step closer to the wall display. “No, it didn’t look exactly like it, but it had the same…I guess I’d call it charm. I think I’ve dreamed about that house, in every feature. It feels like I know every inch of it.”
“Really?” Putting his glass aside, Jeff joined her in front of the sketches. “I don’t think the idea came from any house I ever actually saw. It just grew in my mind, one detail at a time, till there it was. Maybe I’ll build it, one day. It would be a good project.”
“If you ever do, please tell me. I’d like to see it.” Her gaze lingered, taking note of the subtleties of the house. “It’s something…special, isn’t it?”
“I’ve always thought so, Lucinda. I’d ask for your opinion anyway, when I build it, since you probably have some good ideas about the way it should be finished.” Before she could inquire more, the phone on the desk rang. “Our conference call, I think. You have your notes ready? I think we’re about to hear from the parties most involved in this project.”
As Jeff greeted his girls and listened to their news, Lucinda took a moment to study the family pictures on his desk. His two daughters smiled out from a number of photos showing the girls from small children to maturing young women. She could easily tell which girl was which. Candace, in what must be her engagement portrait, sat in a lacy garden chair, her sheer green chiffon skirts draped in graceful folds beside a bank of pastel flowers. Her short curls gleamed silvery blonde, so pale they looked as if the moon’s rays had touched them. On the other side of the desk, Shelby’s wide smile and freckle-dusted face seemed to welcome a bright morning sun. Her taffy curls fell in casual disarray over her shoulders. Her western hat sat at a sassy angle and complimented her red rodeo shirt. Pretty girls, both of them, but so very different in their personalities.
“So Lucinda is here with me, kids, and I’m going to put you on the speaker so we can all talk. I know you have questions, and Lucinda is anxious to tell you what she’s been doing.” Jeff motioned Lucinda to move closer to the desk.
“Hey, Ms. Parks, I’m Shelby. I got your e-mails about the arrangements at the park. Everything looks good to me.”
“I’m so glad you’re comfortable with the plans so far, Shelby. How about you, Candace? Anything you see not fitting with your ideas?”
“You’ve done an amazing job. Thank you for all your efforts. I know this can’t be as straightforward as most weddings you handle.”
Lucinda realized somewhere, in the course of the discussion, Jeff had reached across the desk and taken her hand in his. She looked up, silently questioning his move. He gave her hand a warm squeeze and winked.
“I think Lucinda has put special effort into making this wedding work for everybody, kids. I had no idea all the planning that has to go into getting you girls married off.”
“Did you get the pictures I sent of possible attendants’ dresses, girls?”
“I liked all three dresses you sent me,” Candace replied. “I think the tea-length dress in light blue is just perfect. I e-mailed copies to my six girls, and they approved. If it’s all right with you, I’ll have them call to make appointments for measurements, and then you can get the dresses ordered.”
“Fine, Candace.” She withdrew her hand from Jeff’s so she could open the notebook before her and show him the dress under discussion. “And you, Shelby. What about the sketch I sent you? Will it work for your six girls?”
A soft giggle came through the speaker. “Oh, I don’t know about girl clothes and don’t really care what my bunch wears. I’d said jeans, but I guess the denim skirt and blue western shirt will be fine. It’s a good length for boots, and they’ll like that. I’ll give them the link so they can go ahead and order their stuff. You won’t have to worry about getting their measurements or anything else for them.”
The picture in her head of the graceful tea gowns paired with stonewashed-denim skirts and broadcloth shirts gave Lucinda a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The two outfits just didn’t belong in the same room, but at least the girls seemed to be happy.
“I’m going to talk to the florist tomorrow. Is there anything you’d particularly like in the way of bouquets? Or anything totally out of consideration?”
Candace answered first. “I’d like for my bouquet to be all white flowers tied with blue ribbons. And I really love roses best.”
“Not for me,” Shelby interrupted. “Don’t do anything prissy and fluffy for me. I’d just as soon not carry anything. I’m apt to drop it or swing it like a lariat.”
“Shel, you have to carry something,” her sister insisted. “Brides carry bouquets. Of some kind. Even a single stem. One rose. A basket of ivy. Something.”
Jeff smothered a laugh. “I’m sure Lucinda will come up with something suitable, girls. But if you don’t have anything more you need to discuss with her, I’m going to sign off and take the lady to dinner. She’s had a long day and probably needs to think about something besides you two prima donnas for a while.”
****
In a small alcove away from the general dining room, Lucinda let the long day slip out of her mind. Jeff had told the maître d’ when he made reservations that he and Lucinda wanted to sample some suitable dishes for his daughters’ wedding reception, guaranteeing dinner would have an interesting variety and the service would be graci
ous and efficient. Over a series of small offerings, they discussed how to make sure each girl’s vision would best be represented at dinner.
“It’s Texas, and Texans eat steak.” Jeff had been holding out for a main course of filet mignon for quite a while. “Steak will satisfy everybody.” He took another bite of his own small filet.
“Unless you have guests who are vegetarian or vegan. It’s becoming a major concern at every large event. I think you need to plan on an alternate fish entree and one that’s totally vegan. Maybe quinoa with roasted vegetables?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes squinched closed, and a shudder rippled his wide shoulders. “Ugh! Doesn’t sound like something I’d ever touch. You know your business, but fish? Smelly and hard to keep fresh.”
Lucinda was reminded of a small boy presented with a new and foreign dish for the first time. She dabbed her lips to hide a chuckle. “I was thinking shrimp.”
Jeff shrugged. “I leave it to you, then. Steak and whatever you think will do for the non-conformists.” He put his knife and fork aside to reach for his wine glass. “I think my girls are pretty lucky to have you in their corner. You didn’t miss a beat when they were on the phone tonight talking about what everybody’s wearing. I know jeans and that blue dress Candace likes are hard to mix. Shelby just isn’t into ruffled girl things, and Candace was born to play princess. Can you really make this look all right?”
Jeff, you’d do just about anything to make this wedding perfect for those two young ladies. If more of my clients would take your attitude, my job would be a lot easier. “I have to admit the two sets of attendants’ dresses are going to be…well, not exactly what I’d put together if I had a choice, but we have what we have. And somehow, come the day, we’ll make it work.” Somehow, she added to herself, crossing her fingers for luck.
Double Wedding, Single Dad Page 3
