Whose Wedding Is It Anyway
Page 3
“Why?” Reemerging from my bedroom, I crossed my arms in front of me. If I had to guess, I would venture that my little sister intended to stay put until Beau came home. That way she would get to see the programs. I waited for my sister to say something.
Evie shrugged. “Dunno. Just feel like hanging out with you. That’s all. Isn’t that okay?”
“You can hang out for a bit, but you are leaving before Beau gets home. That’s going to be our time. Just the two of us. Got it?”
“Oh sure, I get it. Bow chicka…”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You are such a brat.” I blew a frustrated breath through my clenched teeth, creating an odd whistling sound. I turned to stalk into the kitchen, hopefully with my dignity still intact, when I heard Evie’s peals of laughter from the recliner.
Stomping into the kitchen, I banged around for a few minutes, setting my coffee cup onto the counter with a resounding thud and then filling the tea kettle roughly in the sink. Why did I let my sister get to me? What had happened to my resolve to grow into an adult relationship with her?
“Are you done with your temper tantrum yet?”
I sent my sister a glare through the wall, but mumbled, “I’m not having a temper tantrum.”
“Pouting, whatever. Are you done? Because I really want to talk to you about the seating arrangements for the reception.”
Massaging my temples, I said, “What now? You want to sit next to Beau and wear a white dress?”
With a giggle, Evie hugged me. “You can be so silly. Of course not. I just don’t want to sit next to Geraldo.”
“You don’t have a choice. Gerry’s the best man.” I shrugged, and went to get another mug out of the cabinet. “Do you want some tea?”
“Do you have anything besides chai? Green is fine. Whatever. Gerry is a Dork with a capital D, but that’s not my problem. I’m bringing someone.” Evie’s voice climbed in pitch until I was fairly certain only dogs could hear it.
“So? He can sit at the table with all the other dates.” I stared at the tea kettle, willing it to boil. I needed to distract Evie before we got into the same old fight.
“It’s the least you can do for me since… you know.” Evie’s voice quivered, but I steeled myself. I knew my younger sister’s flare for the dramatic and I told myself not to give in. Evie sniffled and sighed. “I mean, since I’m not even your maid of honor.”
“Evie, stop. We’ve been over this. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings by asking Katie, but your date is not sitting at the table with the wedding party.” The tea kettle whistled, giving me a much needed excuse to move away from my sister. As much as I hated to admit it, she might have been right, but after the disaster with the bridesmaid’s dress I wasn’t willing to go down that road. Not yet anyway.
Chapterette Eight
We sat side by side on my love seat, the red pleather making a crackling sound. I knew this thing was on its last legs, but I loved it too much to let it go. Beau had proposed to me on this couch. He reached over to the box that I had placed back on the coffee table. As he peeled back the packing tape, my stomach tensed in excitement.
After discarding the packing peanuts, the beautiful burnt orange of the programs came into view. I breathed a sigh of relief. The hue of the orange was perfect, exactly what I had imagined. Beau’s graphic of two intertwined hearts looked amazing. He lifted a program out of the box, and I reached over to trace the embossed letters.
I had never been one of those little girls who dreamed about her wedding. My dolls did occasionally get married, but it wasn’t the center of my games and daydreams. Just seeing our names laced together on the program, though, made my heart skip a beat. I literally felt the hitch of my breath and the extra beat of my pulse.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
Beau nodded. “It looks great.”
“No, I mean, it’s perfect.” I grabbed one for my own perusal.
I stared at the cover of the program feeling weirdly emotional. Different than my normal range of mood swings. Not teary exactly, but overwhelmed by the enormity of the wedding. Beau reached over, and gently pulled it out of my hand.
“Elle, why are you so emotional all of a sudden?” His voice was soft, and the intensity in his eyes made me squirm.
I tried to brush it off. “What? You’ve seen me like this before haven’t you?”
Beau laced his fingers through mine. “Come on, Elle, talk to me.”
Our joined fingers had never been so interesting. I couldn’t bring myself to look Beau in the eye, mainly because I knew his concern was misplaced. “I’m not upset. It’s just that, oh my, we’re getting married. It’s just so… amazing and terrifying and huge. These programs just make it all so real, so immediate.”
Beau lifted my chin so I would look at him. A grin hitched up one side of his face, making him look so cute. “Hey, we’re not getting married for a month. We have plenty of time to get everything ready. Don’t stress.”
I frowned at him. “This isn’t about stress. Don’t you feel like this is huge?”
“Marrying you is the biggest and best decision I have ever made.” He kissed the tip of my nose. Even though I knew he didn’t understand the depth of my emotion, I was sure he felt something similar in his own way. I settled back on the couch and started flipping through the program again. I paused on the description of his sister that he had written.
I turned to Beau and said, “Do you think Rita will ever remember that she and I used to be friends? Because I’ve got to tell you, her selective amnesia is really annoying. The second we started dating, it’s like she reset our whole relationship.”
“Rita’s always annoying.” Beau laughed. Then he paled, his eyes fixed to the program.
“Oh no, what’s wrong?” I glanced at the page he was on and scrambled to find it in my program.
“They spelled my Grandma Matthews’ name wrong. How do you get John from Johanna?” Beau’s tone bordered on hysterical. Or at least that’s how it seemed. That worried me more than anything. Beau was always so calm.
I knew what he was thinking. Seeing her name misspelled in the program would be tantamount to some kind of family treason. Grandma Matthews threw fits only rivaled by Evie. One time I had seen Grandma throw a coffee carafe at a waiter when he forgot to bring her sugar with her creamer. Most people could deal with life’s little inconveniences, but not her. So seeing this mistake in our program would drive her over the edge. Who knew what she would do? All I could guess was that it wouldn’t be pretty.
“She’s going to blame me,” I said.
Beau took a deep breath. “She’s not going to blame you, Elle. Clearly it was some moron at the printing place.”
“And how are we going to fix this?” I racked my brain for ways to salvage this mess.
“How about we call the printing company?” Beau gave me an amused smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that I normally found adorable, but at the moment annoyed me.
I crossed my arms, the program bending as it got folded into my armpit. “We can’t do that, remember? There are no returns or changes. That’s why they were so cheap. I knew we shouldn’t have gone with them.”
Beau groaned slightly, and rubbed his temples. “You get what you pay for, I guess. It seemed like a good way to save money at the time.”
Guilt flooded me. “If I hadn’t bought the dress…”
“Don’t bring that up,” my groom-to-be said. “You love that dress, and your mom bought you the other one so nothing about that hurt our budget.”
With a smile, I reached across and grabbed his hand. “But… but your grandma is going to be furious.”
“She probably won’t even notice. Her eyesight isn’t great anymore.” Beau gave a rough laugh, like the sound caught in the back of his throat. “Besides it’s our day. Even Grandma Matthews will be in a celebratory mood that day. I promise. It’s no big deal.”
Chapterette Nine
The late September sun beat down as I walked toward the bakery. Our quaint little downtown was bustling with unusual activity for the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. I often forgot what it was like to be out and about in the middle of the day. I’d managed to get off early because the school I taught at had a development day and I had taken some development classes over the summer. Ideally I should have been running more wedding errands. With just three weeks left, there still seemed to be so much to do. And so much money to spend.
I nearly swooned as the smells of sugar and yeast hit me at the door. In an effort to maintain my weight for the wedding I had drastically cut out sugar. This cake would be the first decadent thing I would have eaten in months. That’s why it had to be perfect. Beau and I had decided to accent our cake with lots of fall colors: golden yellows, burnt oranges, and dark reds. Our topper had been a find at an antique store, and showed two adorable figures getting ready to kiss, all under an arbor made from white fencing and straw colored twine.
“Can I help you?” The teenager at the counter looked bored beyond belief.
“I’m here to finalize details for my wedding cake.” Just saying the words sent a thrill along my spine. This cake was something I had been dreaming about since I was in middle school, and I saw my first cake decorating competition. I had never known that such things existed until my aunt got involved in a cake decorating class. The bakery offered the best decorator in the class a chance to compete in a local competition. My aunt won the competition, and so my minor obsession had been born.
“I’ll get Lacey.”
“Thanks,” I said as the girl walked toward the back of the store, shoulders slumped. I wondered how long she had until the end of her day. She had probably just started her shift after school, which meant that she had only been working for at most half an hour.
Lacey, the owner, emerged from the kitchen in the back, a smile on her face. I knew she didn’t recognize me, probably because so many brides in our area used her bakery, but still felt a momentary flash of disappointment at the fact. Still, she was always pleasant. She pulled out a huge order book, and spread it on the counter in front of her.
“Name?”
“Elle Reynolds.”
“Ah, here we go. Reynolds and Matthews. Fall theme, right?” Lacey’s tone bordered on a mixture of irritated and bored. My stomach knotted. I hated this very reaction from people. Beau and I had chosen a fall theme because it was the right season, and it seemed the most advantageous. Decorations were cheaper because they were in season. The colors could be vibrant without seeming garish.
“Um, right. We’d like the top tier to be the traditional layer, with the additional layers made from cupcakes. And we bought a cake topper. So should I give that to you now?” I placed my hand on my purse where the topper rested. It was heavy but we had fallen for it the moment we laid eyes on it. We both agreed that it was a non-negotiable.
“Sure. Let’s have a look at it.” Lacey tapped her pen on the counter in a strange staccato rhythm that set my nerves on edge.
I pulled the topper out and set it on the counter, trying hard not to care about Lacey’s reaction. She picked it up, and her mouth puckered immediately. As she turned it over in her hands I got the strangest sensation that I wanted to snatch it from her. The feeling that overcame me felt something akin to anger, which seemed absurd because I had no reason to be mad at this woman.
“It’s heavy,” she said. “This won’t look good with a few tiers of cupcakes. It’ll just look clunky.”
This was just the reaction I had feared. “But… we really want this topper.” The words didn’t pack much punch. I sounded shrill, and my voice cracked slightly.
Lacey sighed, a full body sigh that included heaving shoulders and rolling eyes. “Fine. But if you don’t like the final result you can’t complain, got it?”
I was so taken aback by her tone that all I could do was nod.
“Are you going to have a groom’s cake?” Lacey asked. Her pen took on a manic tapping, and I got the distinct impression that she wanted this little meeting done.
“No, we just want this one.”
“Good. Then we’ll call you the day before your wedding to arrange for pick up.”
“Wait,” I said. “I thought the price included delivery to our reception site.”
Lacey checked her book, a frown puckering the corners of her mouth. “Nope. You are outside of our delivery distance. You’ll have to pick it up and transport it yourself. We’ll show you how to arrange the cupcakes on the display before you leave here. Besides your wedding planner said she knew how to set it up.”
I felt my mouth drop open, as if my jaw had suddenly become unhinged. Surely we would have been told that sooner if that had been their policy. Rewinding through all of the wedding planning of the past months, I recalled sitting down in this shop with Beau as we looked over sample cakes and tasted the flavor options. We’d given Lacey all of our information then. And yet, now, all I could do was splutter my astonishment, as Lacey pushed the topper back at me.
“Wait a second, did you say wedding planner?”
Lacey nodded, looking down at her order records. “I have it right here. A week after you and your fiancée came in, your wedding planner stopped by to go over the plans. She had very specific instructions.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose as pressure built between my eyes. “And what name did my wedding planner give?”
Lacey narrowed her eyebrows, her lips twisting into a pucker. “Says here it was an Evie McPhee. Is there a problem?”
“Nope. No problem.” I shook my head. Evie. Of course. She had been fairly placid about her involvement in the wedding planning after her initial declaration that she was going to be our wedding planner. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t brought up being involved in the planning process again. I had figured she was content to help out where I needed her to. Obviously that was a mistake. “Can you tell me what she said we wanted?”
“Looks like the same sort of things you and your fiancé wanted.” Lacey ran her finger over the page, and then gave me a smile. “You can take that with you. We’ll show you how to mount it nicely when you pick up your cake.” Lacey closed the order book.
“Listen, we need to have someone else set up the cake. My… wedding planner really doesn’t have a clue about cakes or cake decorating. Could we just pay extra to have it delivered and set up?” I cringed as I offered to lay more money on the table.
A bigger grin spread across Lacey’s face. “I’m sure something could be arranged. It will be pricey, though.”
Forcing my mouth closed, I took a deep breath through my nose. “We want it to be really simple. Classic fall, you know?” It was all I could think to say.
Lacey made a non-committal noise and turned away. The teenage girl at the counter smirked at me from under her thick fringe of bangs. Feeling utterly defeated, I left the shop trying to remember why we had picked this bakery in the first place. I vaguely remembered it had been a recommendation from Beau’s grandmother.
The warmth that had so invigorated me earlier had turned cooler and the sun had vanished behind a cloud. I wrapped my arms around myself as I tried to reason out what had just happened. The cake topper should have been my clue that the interaction wasn’t going to be what I wanted. Oh, no. I stopped midstride as I realized that I had left the cake topper sitting on the counter. Hurrying back to the bakery, I pulled open the door and scanned the area by the register. No topper.
I hurried over to the girl. “I was just here a few minutes ago, and I think I left my cake topper here. Have you seen it?”
The girl motioned toward a trash can beside the display case. Gingerly I picked through wadded up napkins and
discarded paper plates, until I found the topper. In two pieces. Tears burned the backs of my eyes.
“What happened?” My voice was shrill as I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat.
The girl shrugged. “It broke.”
“How did it break?” I didn’t bother to hold back the anger in my voice.
The girl bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I was cleaning, and it fell.”
I stared at the two pieces of my beautiful cake topper. Maybe it could be mended. Maybe we could just put it beside the cake. There was nothing to be done right now. Yelling at this girl would just make her feel worse.
“I need to talk to Lacey,” I said. I managed to keep my voice even.
The girl nodded, and headed toward the back. Lacey emerged a moment later, wiping her hands on her apron. When she saw that I was back, she frowned.
“I thought we covered everything. Is there a problem?”
I held up the topper. “Your employee broke this.”
Lacey shook her head. “You left it here after I told you to take it. I can’t be held responsible for damage to personal property.”
My mouth dropped open. “I’m pretty sure you can. I think the least you can do is compensate me for the loss of this.” I wiggled the topper in front of her. When she didn’t respond immediately, I said, “Maybe you could deliver the cake for free.”
I watched Lacey’s eyes narrow. She glanced from the girl to me, but then she sighed and said, “That seems fair.”
She made note of it in her order book, we shook hands, and the girl apologized again. I tucked the two pieces of the broken topper into my purse. As I left the store, a smile crept over my face. Despite the fact that the wedding planning had me swinging from one emotion to the next, I felt proud of myself in there. Even a small win was a victory.