The Wedding Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  Liza nodded. She could see now how Marion had misinterpreted Jennifer’s vague but hopeful reply.

  Marion just assumed Liza wouldn’t turn down the request—or the business. Liza wasn’t sure if she should bother clarifying the situation. It wasn’t any of Marion’s business. Yet, if she didn’t put her straight, the story would soon be all over the island and the town of Cape Light. Marion’s news had a way of going viral very quickly.

  “Kyle is a nice boy,” the storekeeper went on. “I know they seem young, but those two have been going together since high school. They should know their minds by now.”

  “They probably do. Jennifer seems very levelheaded,” Liza replied. “And she’s a lovely young woman. But nothing is definite about the wedding yet, Marion. The Bennets will probably look at a lot of places.”

  “Oh, really?” Marion looked disappointed as Liza handed some bills across the counter. “That’s too bad. The inn is a beautiful spot. Walter and I have gone to a few weddings there over the years. Your aunt did a lovely job of it.”

  “Yes, I’m sure she did.” Liza wasn’t sure why but the conversation was suddenly getting under her skin. She wished everyone would stop reminding her that her aunt had pulled off these events with such ease.

  Things were different back then. People didn’t have such high expectations. They didn’t expect showers of rose petals, elaborate table settings, and PowerPoint presentations set to the couple’s favorite songs.

  “Here’s your change,” Marion said mildly, handing Liza back some coins.

  “Thanks. I have to run. Nice to see you.” Liza grabbed the change and her bag of vegetables, then practically ran to the door. The little bell over the threshold jangled wildly as she yanked it open.

  “Don’t sweat the small stuff, Liza . . . ” Marion called out in her usual way. “And it’s all small stuff, you know.”

  “Right,” Liza called back. Marion always said that to her.

  Did she look like she was sweating the small stuff? Well, maybe sometimes, she had to admit.

  Liza stuck the bag in the basket of her bike and set off for the inn, pedaling at double speed. It was amazing. She hadn’t even figured out if she could do the wedding, and the news that she would was already all over the island. Now if she didn’t do the wedding, it might reflect badly on the inn, as if she’d cancelled or something.

  She just hoped that if this didn’t work out, Marion Doyle wouldn’t put a bad spin on the situation. Oh, she couldn’t worry about that now, Liza decided, pedaling even faster. She had to get back to the inn and get ready for her meeting with Molly Willoughby.

  “THIS is a great old place,” Molly said as she stepped through the inn’s front door. “You’ve really come a long way with it,” she added, glancing around the foyer and into the sitting room.

  “My brother Sam is really into old houses,” Molly went on. “He must have worked on every old house in the village by now. I know these old places are beautiful, but they’re also a pain in the neck, like big old divas,” she joked. “Maybe that’s why I live in a new one. But you miss out on the history and the charm.”

  Liza led her into the sitting room, and Molly looked around again with an admiring expression. Molly was a very pretty woman, Liza thought, probably in her early forties, with dark curly hair, sparkling eyes, and a very expressive manner. She wasn’t model thin but had curves in all the right places. Liza sensed she was a good saleswoman and probably a strict boss.

  “Oh, this room is very nice. You could maybe do a cocktail thing in here if you take out some of the furniture. You’d leave the piano, of course. You can hire some college kid to play standards. Everybody loves that. You might bring in a few pieces, a trio maybe. Or you could put the music outside. You definitely have the room . . . not necessary, of course, if cost is a big issue.”

  “I’m not sure. The bride didn’t really say. She did say she was going to keep it small and simple, a very limited guest list.”

  Is that really me talking? Liza could hardly believe her own ears. She was suddenly in full wedding-planner mode, even speaking the lingo.

  “You know, if you not only provide the site but take on some of the planning details—coordinating the flowers and tablecloths and all of that—the wedding business can be very profitable. And you could have a lot of fun with a small party.” Molly’s excitement was contagious.

  “I could?” Could this really be fun?

  “Definitely. Those special touches are much easier for a small group and make the event so memorable.”

  Special touches—that’s what Liza was afraid of.

  “How about if I just start with the standard, stripped-down model? Honestly, I think that’s all I could manage.”

  Molly laughed and took a seat in an armchair. “That’s cute. Sure, I can give you the lowdown on a no-frills wedding. What do you want to know?”

  Liza sat down on one of the love seats. “Everything.”

  Molly looked as if she might laugh again, then noticed the serious expression on Liza’s face.

  “No problem. I’ll tell you everything I know and believe me, it’s not rocket science.”

  “Do I look like I think it is?”

  “Yeah, you do,” Molly said bluntly. “That’s okay. I felt the same way when I first got into this business and let me tell you, there were some real disasters.” She smiled at the memories.

  “But you just have to feel the fear and let that box of canaries—which should have been white doves—loose anyway. Know what I mean?”

  “I do,” Liza replied. “Were they really canaries?”

  “Yes, they were. And they were not trained properly and never came back. That was an extra cost we had to swallow.” Molly grinned again, then picked up the folder Liza had left on the low table. “So what’s this? Some ideas?” Molly started looking at the pages. “Oh, nice. Let’s start here. . . . ”

  The two women talked for more than an hour, with Molly giving Liza a clear idea of what was possible and what was flat-out insane. Liza made notes all the while. They walked through the inn and out to the garden where Jennifer wanted the ceremony and then circled the entire property. Molly agreed that the inn was a work in-progress but didn’t rule it out as too much of a construction site.

  She seemed to take Daniel’s position. “Hey, if the bride and groom don’t see the drawbacks, why point them out? You know what they say, Liza, ‘love is blind. ’”

  That was true, and Jennifer was definitely in love with the idea of being married here.

  Molly made suggestions about where a tent might be set up and how many tables it would hold and where a catering truck might park.

  “I’m not saying you have to hire me just because I’m a friend of Audrey’s. But I can give you some information on the kind of food we can supply and the cost, and that will give you a ballpark for the bride,” she suggested.

  “That would be wonderful,” Liza said honestly. “I’ve been to your shop many times. Everything’s delicious.”

  “Well, thanks. But the bride may have another caterer in mind. You said she wants to have the wedding soon?”

  “No later than the end of June. About six to seven weeks from now?”

  Molly gave a low whistle. “That is fast. But that might be to your advantage,” she pointed out. “Every time the family makes an outrageous request, you can say you’d love to do it, but there isn’t enough time.”

  “Good one. I have to remember that line,” Liza said.

  Molly had spouted more than a few lines Liza wanted to remember. She had turned out to be a wonderful mentor, the kind of coach you really wanted in your corner.

  They came inside again through the back door and found Claire in the kitchen, cooking the chowder. “Molly, I thought that was your truck. How are you, dear?” Claire greeted her.

  “Very well, thanks. Good to see you, Claire. I was wondering if you were here today,” Molly replied as she walked over to the older woman and gav
e her a quick hug.

  “Oh, I’m always here. Liza inherited me with the place,” Claire joked.

  “One of the many treasures,” Liza noted.

  “Indeed she is. I’ve always told her if she ever leaves the inn, she can come cook for me—in a heartbeat.” Molly peered over Claire’s shoulder to check the soup. “What are you making today, fish chowder?”

  Claire nodded. “With yams instead of white potatoes or turnips.” She dipped in a spoon and offered Molly a taste.

  “What do you think?”

  Molly looked skeptical, Liza noticed, but gamely took a taste. Her eyes widened in surprised approval. “Hey, that’s really good. What made you think of that combination? Have you been watching those cooking shows, Claire?”

  “Oh, you know those TV chefs are not for me. Yams were all Liza could find at the market. I thought I’d give it a try. Just a lucky cooking accident, I guess.”

  “Some cooks are luckier than others that way,” Molly observed wryly.

  Claire and Liza just laughed.

  Molly left a short time later with instructions from Claire to send greetings to her entire family.

  “Thanks so much for all your help today,” Liza said as she walked Molly to her truck. “I don’t know how to return the favor.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Liza. I had fun. Maybe someday when my in-laws come to town, you can find an empty room. That will keep me on my mother-in-law’s good side,” she joked. “Good luck. Let me know how it turns out, okay?”

  “Oh, I will. I’ll give you a full report,” Liza promised.

  Liza was eager to dig into the wedding plan again and wanted to remember all of Molly’s suggestions and tips while they were fresh in her mind. She went back to the kitchen to get her notes and folder, and found Claire was still hovering over the soup pot, the can of Old Bay in her hand as she decided if the soup needed another dash.

  “I didn’t realize you knew Molly. I would have brought her back to the kitchen sooner to say hello,” Liza apologized.

  “Oh, I was all over the house doing things. I would have caught her at some point to say hi. Everyone knows the Morgans. They’re a big clan and have lived in the area for generations. Since the colonial days, I think.” Claire put the seasoning aside and tossed in a handful of chopped parsley instead. “Molly’s the live wire in the family.”

  “I had a feeling about that,” Liza said. “She’s really fun to talk to.”

  “She had a hard time for a while. Divorced with two little girls and left to take care of them on her own. She worked very hard—cleaning houses, driving a school bus, waitressing . . . whatever she had to do. Your aunt used to hire her from time to time to help out here when we were busy in the summer. She managed to start her business a few years back and married a very nice man, Dr. Harding. He has a practice in town,” Claire added. “They have a lovely family, four girls. Three from their previous marriages and a little one of their own named Betty.”

  “She has her hands full, doesn’t she?” Liza said, even more impressed.

  “Molly’s what I’d call a tornado-type,” Claire agreed. Now she had the pepper mill in hand and ground some fresh pepper into the soup. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy with any less on her plate. Was she a help to you?”

  “Absolutely. She gave me some great tips.”

  More than that, Molly’s can-do spirit was contagious. Or maybe it was her candid confession that making a big party was not exactly rocket science. Liza wasn’t sure. She did know that she suddenly felt she could put together a viable wedding plan for Jennifer and her mother, and present herself as someone who could be trusted to carry out that plan.

  “I hope the Bennets hire Molly to do the catering,” Liza said. “It would be great to work with her on this.”

  Claire glanced over her shoulder and then turned back to her cooking. “You sound as if you want to do the wedding now.”

  Liza’s eyes widened in surprise. “I do sound like that, don’t I.”

  She didn’t know exactly how it had happened, but she really was excited now about this opportunity and wanted to give the wedding a try.

  “It would be great for the inn—if I can pull it off,” Liza mused. “Jennifer already wants to hold the wedding here, but her parents are the final word. The inn and I still have to pass inspection.”

  “I think you will,” Claire said simply. “I think this wedding is meant to happen here. I just have a feeling.”

  Liza smiled but didn’t say more. She had come to respect Claire’s predictions. If her wise friend felt the wedding at the inn would come about, well, that meant she’d better get back to work on her plan.

  LIZA worked most of Tuesday night on the wedding plan, taking just a short break for her supper of fish chowder, fresh crusty bread, and a mixed green salad. She worked on Wednesday, too, organizing her plan with a wedding checklist she’d found online, filling in the blanks with all her ideas and sorting out the various pictures she had found of flowers, table settings, favors, the cake, and other important touches.

  Molly had shown her how to figure out costs and mark things up so that all the work was worth her while. That was the hard part. Liza felt guilty tacking on her own fee since she was such a raw amateur. But she knew that she was probably asking far less than any of the other places Jennifer might choose, and she would do her best to give the Bennets their money’s worth.

  Figuring out the presentation was the easy part. Her years as an account executive came in handy. She typed up all the information and used attractive fonts and a simple page design to make the pages professional-looking and easy to read.

  She was printing out the entire document at her work space in the sitting room when she saw Daniel’s truck turning into the drive.

  Liza stared out the window a moment, frozen, like a small animal caught in car headlights. Then she dashed upstairs to clean herself up. She had been working intensely at her computer the past two days and knew that she looked like a mad scientist.

  At least I washed my hair in the shower this morning, she thought. Though she hadn’t taken time to blow it out, and it now sprang out around her head in a mass of waves and curls. She twisted it all up in a big clip, then pulled off her baggy, bargain-store T-shirt and searched her closet for something more attractive—or at the very least, free of coffee stains.

  Just as she brushed her teeth and smeared on some lip gloss, she heard Claire at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Daniel.

  “—I’m not sure. Maybe she’s upstairs. I don’t think she went out. She was in here working all day. . . . Liza, are you upstairs? Daniel’s here,” Claire called to her.

  “Be down in a sec,” Liza called back. She took a few deep breaths on the way down, trying to calm herself after her mad cleanup dash.

  “Hi, Liza, how’s it going?” Daniel greeted her. His gaze swept over her, taking her in from head to toe. He lingered on her upswept hair, and she realized he had never seen it fixed this way.

  “Claire tells me you’ve been working hard. Have you made any progress in the wedding business?”

  “I’m making plenty of progress,” she answered brightly. “In fact, my party plan is printing out right now.” She strolled over to her printer and checked the pile of pages it had spit out so far.

  It was good to have something to do while they spoke, she realized. She loved being with him, but his closeness also made her nervous at times. “I’m meeting with Jennifer and her mother tomorrow morning.”

  “And you’re all set for them?”

  “I am.” She nodded decisively. “Claire says she has a feeling that the wedding is meant to take place here. But I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea if I gave the Bennets a decent plan.”

  “I’m sure it’s more than decent. It’s thick enough, I think,” he remarked, watching her tap the pile of pages into an orderly stack.

  In the drawer of the big desk where her aunt had stored stationery, Liza found a cream-colore
d folder with the name of the inn imprinted in blue on the outside. Luckily, it didn’t look stained or discolored; it seemed perfect for her needs. “It’s not really that much information,” she said, gathering some of the photos she’d found in the bridal magazines and online. “But when people are going to give you a lot of money, they like to feel something hefty in their hand. I learned that in advertising,” she added.

  “Good to remember. Maybe I should give my customers folders, too,” he speculated in a teasing tone. “Though there’s not too much you can say about replacing a roof or painting a house.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised,” Liza teased him back. “Some people could think of a lot of things to say. But you’re more of the straight-talking, honest type. I can see how the folder approach would be a challenge for you.”

  “Thanks, I think.” He looked puzzled but amused.

  It was true. Daniel was the honest type, in business at least. She had never once felt that he was misleading her in any way. Except, when she asked about his past. It wasn’t that he seemed deceptive in that area either, only that he hardly ever spoke about it. That door was closed tight and carefully guarded.

  Daniel’s voice jarred her from her wandering thoughts. “So, now that you’ve finished this challenging assignment, would you like to go out tonight and celebrate? There’s a movie playing in Cape Light I wanted to see. Some mystery—”

  “False Witness?”

  “That’s it,” Daniel said. “I thought we could go to the early show and then have dinner in the village.”

  Liza was surprised by the invitation, pleasantly surprised. “Sure . . . I’d like that a lot. I’ve been wanting to see that one.”

  “Me, too. I have to run home for a little while,” he said, checking his watch. “Can you be ready by six?”

  “No problem,” Liza told him.