A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7)

by Sheila Roberts

  She got to the cake table just as he was scooping out another handful. “They’re good, aren’t they?”

  The boy gave a start and looked over his shoulder, the picture of guilt. “Uh, yeah.”

  “I love nuts, too,” Anne said and chose a couple of pecans, making them partners in nut thievery. “But, you know, you’ve got to be careful with nuts.”

  He looked at her suspiciously.

  “Yeah. Too many of them give you—” she lowered her voice “—the runs. And it comes on really suddenly.” She looked furtively around and hunched down, a woman about to share a secret. “I went to a wedding once where a boy ate too many and he...” She bit her lip. “All over everything, in front of all the wedding guests.”

  She had the squirrel’s attention now.

  “Everybody laughed,” she added for emphasis.

  The boy dropped the nuts back in the bowl. Lovely. But it looked as though a cure for gluttony had been found. “Aren’t you going to have any more?” Anne asked innocently.

  He shook his head. “I’ve had enough.”

  She watched as he slipped through the crowd, heading in the direction of the restrooms. Ah, the power of suggestion, she thought, and went to fetch more nuts.

  The rest of the reception went well. The tipsy bridesmaid stopped hitting on the groom after she threw up in the rhododendron bushes and then passed out, the punch and nut thieves settled down and Cressa got a marriage proposal from Grandpa.

  All in a night’s work.

  Watching the bride and groom, strolling from guest to guest with their arms around each other, left Anne feeling that same sense of accomplishment she always felt upon seeing another couple happily wed. Soon she’d be experiencing the thrill of her own daughter’s reception...

  It was a long and busy night, but that didn’t stop her from getting together with her family the next day. Anne’s family liked to gather once a month at her mother’s house for Sunday dinner. Julia usually cooked a roast of some kind, with plenty of vegetables, and her daughters brought the rolls, salad and dessert. This Sunday the whole gang was there—Kendra and her husband, Jimmy, and their two daughters, Coral and Amy; Anne and Cam; and Laney and Drake, family member in training.

  When it was football season the men often drifted off after dinner to watch the game on TV, while the women either visited or played cards. The same thing happened during baseball season if a Mariners game was being aired. But since none of the men were big basketball fans, during basketball season they joined the women for conversation or some sort of game.

  This afternoon it was Trivial Pursuit, and the women were behind, struggling to answer the sports-and-leisure questions.

  “This is hard, Mommy,” said Coral, Kendra’s oldest.

  “It sure is,” Kendra agreed. “Who knows this stuff?” she protested, throwing up her hands.

  “Men,” Jimmy said.

  “They should have cooking questions in here,” Kendra grumbled.

  “Talk about a sexist remark,” Cam teased her. “What makes you think men don’t know anything about cooking?”

  “The greatest chefs in the world are men,” put in Dad.

  “Not anymore,” Kendra said. “And there certainly aren’t any at this table.”

  “That’s because our women are such great cooks.” Dad grinned at their mother. “Why try to compete with perfection?”

  “I wouldn’t object if you tried,” Julia said, grabbing a handful of bridge mix.

  “Aw, Julia, you know you love to cook,” he said.

  “Not all the time.”

  “All you have to do is say the word,” Dad told her.

  “Fine. Tomorrow night you make dinner.”

  He frowned. “You can’t just spring that on a man.”

  “Sam Wellington, I’ve been trying to spring that on you for years.”

  Anne doubted her mother had tried very hard. Her parents had always had a traditional relationship, with her father working and her mother staying home and running the house. Still, she knew that after forty-five years in the kitchen, her mom was getting tired of KP.

  “Daddy, tomorrow night’s the perfect night to cook,” Anne said. “All you have to do is put the leftovers in foil and stick them in the oven.”

  “Maybe we’ll have sandwiches tomorrow night.” Julia waggled a finger back and forth from Laney to Drake. “Make him cook some of the meals when you two get married. If you don’t train them right from the beginning, they never learn.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. W.,” Drake said. “I know how to cook.”

  “He already makes dinner for us on Fridays and Sundays,” Laney said proudly.

  Her grandfather shook his head. “Young men today, they’re all henpecked.”

  “Is that so?” asked his wife, cocking a disapproving eyebrow.

  “Hey, I say do whatever works.” Cam clapped Drake on the back. Then he looked at Kendra. “So, are you girls going to answer the question or not?”

  “Not,” Kendra muttered. “Who hit the most home runs for the Yankees? Who knows?”

  “I do,” Jimmy said with a smirk.

  “Oh, go ahead and answer and then shut up,” Kendra told him, turning his smirk into a grin.

  The men won, and after much good-natured grumbling, it was time for pie and ice cream and more visiting.

  “Have you two figured out where you’re going to live after you’re married?” Julia asked Laney.

  “At Drake’s place,” Laney said, smiling at him. “His roommate’s already moved out and I’m going to use the spare bedroom as a studio.”

  Julia smiled. “That sounds like an excellent idea. And how are the wedding plans coming?”

  “Good,” Laney replied.

  Slower than a dying slug, Anne felt like saying. “We still have so much to do.”

  “At least you have your venue,” Julia said. “That house is lovely.”

  Drake frowned. “I thought we were getting married on the river.”

  “We are,” Laney assured him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “The house is for the reception,” Anne reminded her mother.

  Julia’s eyebrows took a disapproving dip downward. “I thought you decided against the raft.”

  If Anne had her way, her daughter would be getting married under the rose bower in the garden at Primrose Haus. It would be in full bloom by June and so lovely. But she hadn’t convinced Laney yet.

  “That’s still up for discussion,” she said hopefully.

  “No, it’s not.” Her daughter glared at her.

  Drake looked from mother to daughter, and he wasn’t smiling, either. “If we’re gonna stick around here, we should at least do something cool like get married on the river.”

  “I thought you guys were going to Vegas,” Jimmy said. Obviously, Kendra hadn’t been keeping him in the loop.

  Laney and Drake exchanged a look that was—what? Regretful? Oh, no. Anne had to be misreading that. “This will be better,” she said quickly. “More people can come.”

  “I don’t know. Vegas sounded like fun,” Jimmy said. This was followed by a pained expression and an “Ouch” as his wife kicked him under the table.

  “Anyone for more pie?” Anne asked with brisk cheerfulness.

  Seconds on pie was a good distraction, and the conversation drifted into new avenues, but Anne felt discontent coming from her daughter and future son-in-law’s corner of the table like a miasma. Surely they weren’t changing their minds. No, they couldn’t be. She was just imagining it.

  “Drake doesn’t seem all that excited about the new wedding plans,” Cam observed as they drove home. “Are you sure they’re both okay with this?”

  “Of course I am,” Anne said. “Primrose Haus will
be great for the reception and they’ll love getting married on the river.” At least she’d talked her daughter out of wearing a bikini top—she hoped. “This will be something she can remember proudly all her life.”

  Cam shot a quick look in her direction. “As opposed to?”

  “Well, having regrets.”

  He nodded and kept his eye on the road. “Like her mother.”

  She’d never complained, never said anything. “I don’t have regrets.”

  He grunted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  “I know you wanted a big, fancy church wedding.”

  “I wanted you more,” Anne said, and that was the truth. “Anyway, we’re not talking about me.”

  He shrugged, ready to drop the subject.

  Anne wasn’t. “If Drake was in charge we’d all be wearing eye patches, walking around with parrots on our shoulders and saying, ‘Aargh.’”

  “I’d be fine with that,” Cam said, smiling. “Just as long as nobody asked me to walk the plank.”

  “Who knows what they’d ask you to do.” No, the direction they were taking now was the right way to go. Her daughter would thank her for this.

  Planning a wedding was such a special time for a mother and daughter. That was another thing they’d be cheated out of if Laney just went off to Vegas. It was one last mother-daughter adventure to enjoy before Laney embarked on her new life. They would look back on this with such fond memories.

  * * *

  The next day, Laney’s day off, they hit the road for Icicle Falls for some of that special mother-daughter time, armed with lattes Laney had made for them and a to-do list. Blue sky and sunshine promised an early spring.

  “We’ve got appointments with the florist and the baker,” Anne said. “The caterer couldn’t meet with us today, but she’s going to email some sample menus to look over. Oh, and I heard there’s a local guy who DJs for weddings.”

  “We already have a band,” Laney said as they exited I-5 for I-90 eastbound.

  “You do?”

  “Drake’s friend Anders has a band. The Flesh Eaters.”

  “The Flesh Eaters,” Anne repeated weakly. “Um, what kind of music do they do?”

  “Some grunge, some progressive, some new wave. They’re versatile.”

  That was versatility? Anne tried to picture her parents dancing to the earsplitting wall of sound produced by the Flesh Eaters and failed. “Sweetie, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “What do you mean?” Laney’s voice was defensive now.

  “I’m just wondering if that’s really the best choice for your wedding music.”

  “I think it is.”

  “Well, yes, of course. But you’ll have other generations at your wedding. You want them to enjoy themselves, too. If you have a DJ he can play a variety of music, something for everyone.”

  Laney chewed her lip. “But he’s Drake’s friend. We already told him he could play.”

  Ah, here was the crux of the matter. Laney didn’t want to disappoint a friend. “Just tell him it didn’t work out.” Heartless, maybe, but that was the wedding biz.

  “Yeah, like everything else so far,” Laney grumbled.

  Okay, that hurt. “That’s not true,” Anne said. “You’re getting married on the river.”

  Laney frowned at the stand of evergreens they were passing. “I can tell how much you guys approve of that.”

  “It’s your wedding,” Anne said.

  “Glad you remembered.”

  Ah, mother-daughter bonding. Nothing like it.

  Once they got to Icicle Falls, Anne let her daughter have free rein. Laney picked out the biggest, boldest wedding cake possible at Gingerbread Haus and ordered a donut cake as high as the Trump Tower. By the time they added the groom’s cake, a chocolate mountain complete with a rock climber to celebrate Drake’s favorite hobby, they were over the cake budget by five hundred dollars. Anne didn’t blink.

  “The donut cake will be an excellent addition,” said Cass, the bakery owner, which brought a big grin from Laney.

  “Whatever my daughter wants,” Anne said. As long as it didn’t involve a pirate ship or zombie musicians.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Laney threaded her arm through Anne’s as they walked away. “I love our cakes.”

  “You’re welcome,” Anne said and patted her hand. Her daughter’s gratitude was worth an extra five hundred dollars.

  Then it was on to Lupine Floral, where they met with Heinrich Blum, the shop’s creative genius. He greeted them warmly and predicted that Laney would be the most beautiful bride Icicle Falls had ever seen. Anne suspected he said that to every bride who came through his doors, but Laney ate it up.

  “And what’s our budget?” he asked.

  Anne told him and he nodded appreciatively. “We can give you something very nice for that. What are your colors?”

  “Brown and forest green,” Laney replied.

  “Very tasteful,” he said, and it was all Anne could do not to remind her daughter who had suggested those colors.

  “We thought perhaps you might be able to do something with brown roses, ferns and some chocolate mints,” Anne couldn’t help adding.

  “Chocolate mints. Love it!” Heinrich said, confirming Anne’s good taste.

  He showed Laney several pictures of past Lupine Floral creations and then they spent some time surfing the net and discussing ideas. Finally it looked as though they had a plan. “How does that sound?” he asked.

  Laney shrugged. “Pretty good.”

  He held a hand to his chest in mock horror. “Only pretty good? I’m crushed.”

  Laney quickly corrected herself. “I mean, it’s beautiful.”

  It just wasn’t a pirate ship. Anne didn’t want her daughter to be disappointed with the flowers at her wedding. She didn’t want Laney to be disappointed with anything. “Maybe we could throw in a little more,” she said.

  “A little more...pizzazz?” Heinrich guessed.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Of course. But you do want to stay in your budget, right?”

  “Well, let’s expand the budget.”

  “Okay, then,” he said with a smile. “We’ll see what we can do.” What he could do was incredible. He put together a plan that would turn the beautiful Primrose Haus into an enchanted castle, employing everything from the flowers and greens they’d already selected to twinkle lights and lanterns for the garden, and crystal vases stuffed with more twinkle lights for the inside. Table centerpieces would be branches (surrounded by flowers and greens, of course) with candle lanterns hanging from them. By the time he was done, Anne was practically drooling.

  Even Laney looked impressed. “I love it,” she said, a huge smile on her face.

  Anne’s savings account was probably in trouble, but so what? She’d find the extra money somewhere. And anyway, they weren’t that far over budget.

  Yet. They still had to order food, had to buy the wedding dress, the favors and the gifts for the bridesmaids.

  Anne saw the proverbial writing on the wall and it was all in dollar signs. Okay, so she’d be paying for this wedding for the next five years. She’d gladly do whatever it took to make sure the day turned out to be exactly what her daughter had always dreamed of—especially after shooting down the Vegas idea.

  Ah, guilt. The perfect present for the mother of the bride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Laney, Having to Choose

  “I don’t get why you don’t want me to come,” Drake said as he and Laney jogged side by side around Green Lake on Saturday after her shift at the coffee shop.

  “I told you, it’s not that I don’t want you to come, but it’s just girls.” Guys never went along when
their fiancées went bridal-gown shopping. She’d watched enough episodes of Say Yes to the Dress to know that. “Even my dad isn’t going.” And if anyone should be there, it was Dad, since he and Mom were paying for it. “Anyway, it’s bad luck to see me in my wedding gown before the wedding.” That was a silly superstition and not very practical for taking pictures, but the drama of waiting until the big moment appealed to Laney.

  “My brother saw his wife. They had their pictures taken before the wedding.”

  Laney tried another tack. “You’d be bored.”

  “Seeing you all dressed up? No way.”

  “You’re so sweet.”

  Drake always said stuff like that. She was marrying the best guy ever.

  “So, come on. Let me go with you.”

  Laney grinned over at him. “Uh-uh. You need to be surprised,” she added with a teasing smile.

  He shook his head. “I don’t get why you’re looking for a wedding dress anyway. I thought you were gonna wear shorts.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Actually, her mother had changed her mind, but Mom was probably right about this. Getting married was major, and she might regret it if she went for casual.

  Drake was frowning now. They weren’t going to fight about this, she hoped.

  “Come on. Don’t be mad,” she coaxed.

  “I’m not mad. I’m just...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Guy-speak for I don’t want to talk about it. “What?” Laney pressed.

  “I hate being left out of everything like I don’t matter.”

  She stopped running. So did he. A cyclist whizzed past them.

  “You do matter,” Laney said. “You should know that. You’re the most important person in my life.”

  “Yeah? Then how come I don’t get to be involved in anything? How come you don’t even ask me what I think?” He wiped his sweaty brow and looked away.

  Two women jogged past them, laughing about something.

  “I haven’t even seen the place where we’re getting married,” he continued.

  “I’ve shown you pictures.”