Maggie rolled her eyes and read his name from the card. “Apparently Rob does.”
She glanced over at Sarah, admiring her long brown hair twisted neatly on the back of her head. She looked as perfect as she had that morning when they left for the wedding. Maggie, on the other hand, looked a mess. She had spent an hour with the bridal party before the ceremony to get all the posed pictures out of the way. Her creative style of shooting had her climbing on things and lying on the ground to get artistic angles and unique photos, which left her looking disheveled by the time the ceremony rolled around. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear, tightened her ponytail, and went back to scanning the crowd.
“Sarah, could you go outside and get a few shots of the guests waiting to throw the rice?”
“They don’t throw rice any more.” Sarah laid everything on a nearby bench and slipped her coat on. "Birds eat it and it expands in their stomachs and makes them explode.” She pulled her gloves from her coat pocket and put them on.
“Is that true?” Maggie looked horrified.
“I have no idea.” Sarah laughed out loud.
Maggie glanced over just in time to catch a shot of Katherine’s grandfather giving her a kiss.
“Aw, that was a good one.” Sarah gathered their things and moved toward the exit.
Maggie felt the winter chill breeze into the foyer as Sarah opened the door.
With two weeks until Christmas, this wedding had Maggie in a festive holiday mood. The reception hall was filled with more poinsettias and twinkly white lights everywhere. A large, red stocking hung next to the gift table for guests to place cards. Christmas trees decorated with sparkly, white snowflake ornaments lined the walls and packages wrapped in shiny red and gold were the centerpiece of each table. The wedding cake was frosted white and covered in snowflakes made of fondant. The sugar crystals sprinkled over each tier gave the look of glittery snow, and red roses were placed here and there for a touch of color.
A pianist sat at the large grand piano in one corner of the dance floor playing Christmas carols and taking holiday song requests. The bridal party was nearly finished singing their rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” when the D.J. interrupted to announce that it was snowing. The beginning of December had been unusually warm,and this was the first real cold spell thus far. No snow had been in the forecast, so it was like a little wedding miracle.
Maggie bundled up and followed the bridal party outside. She photographed Katherine and Edward dancing on the terrace with the snow falling softly around them. It was a beautiful moment.
A sudden chill ran up her spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold outside, and she had the overwhelming feeling someone was watching her. Her eyes scanned the crowd outside, but no one appeared to be looking in her direction. She pushed the feeling aside and went back to shooting photos.
The groomsmen were having a “snowball” fight, though there wasn’t much snow yet. A ball of slush abruptly hit her arm.
“Sorry,” one of the guys called.
She waved her hand at him and took that as her cue to head inside so her equipment didn’t get soaked. It was warm inside the reception hall, but she couldn’t shake the chill.
After more pictures of guests dancing, the cake cutting, and the bouquet toss, Maggie and Sarah bid farewell to the couple and their families. While Sarah headed outside to warm up the car for their long ride home, Maggie went to the lobby to pack up the equipment.
“Canon? Really?”
A chill went up her spine again. It was a familiar voice, one she had not heard in a very long time.
She glanced over to see Simon Walker staring down at her. He was dressed in a dark suit with a festive red Christmas tie and carrying a camera bag of his own.
“This is my wedding, Walker. Are you stalking me?” She was annoyed to see him, especially so far from home. It was not uncommon to see him working around the Grand Rapids area, but they were all the way across the state near Detroit. What were the odds?
He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “I missed you, too.”
Maggie rolled her eyes as she shrugged his arm away and went back to packing her camera in its place in her bag.
“It’s been a while. How are you?” he asked warmly.
She could feel his eyes on her and suddenly felt as uncomfortable as she had that day in the library.
Maggie looked up and raised her eyebrow at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was shooting a wedding in the other banquet room." He motioned toward the room at the end of the hallway.
“How was it?” she asked, not really interested, but making conversation until she could get the rest of her equipment packed up.
“I was amazing, as usual,” he teased.
She zipped up her bag and slipped her arm through the shoulder strap, lifting it from the table. “I meant the wedding.” She glanced out the door and noticed Sarah sitting in the car waiting for her.
Simon shrugged. “Nice couple. Great party. Drunk bridesmaids. What could be better than that?” He laughed out loud, probably thinking he was amusing.
Maggie closed her eyes and shook her head. This conversation was over.
“We should get a drink sometime. I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Gotta go,” she smugly replied. She turned on her heel and walked away.
“See ya, Canon.”
She groaned. When he called her “Canon” it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. With a name like Margaret, she’d had no shortage of nicknames over the years − Maggie, Mags, Meg, Meggie, Magpie, but Canon was by far the most annoying nickname anyone had ever given her.
She pushed through the door, walked as fast as she could to the driver’s side, and jerked the door open.
“Who was that you were talking to?” Sarah asked.
"The devil.” She carefully dropped her bag onto the floor behind Sarah’s seat.
“Oh, my.” Sarah laughed. "Does the devil have a name?"
"Simon Walker," she grumbled as she climbed in and put her seatbelt on.
“So, that's Simon Walker.”
Simon’s name had been mentioned in their circle of wedding photographer friends many times before.
Sarah took another look inside, where he stood talking with someone. “He’s hot.”
Maggie’s head snapped in her direction. “Seriously?”
“Well, look at him.” Sarah pointed toward the building.
"I've seen him.” She shifted the car into gear and proceeded slowly into the slippery parking lot then out onto the road for their two hour journey home.
"So remind me again how you know him."
Maggie sighed. “We went to college together, hung out with some of the same people, had a bunch of photography classes together.”
"You were friends?" Sarah asked.
“Not even.” She screwed up her face.
“Why not?”
“He’s a jerk. Totally full of himself. And he won’t hesitate to tell you all about his amazing business and his awesome clients and how incredibly talented he is.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” Sarah raised an eyebrow.
“When I started photographing weddings, he would call me up and try to give me advice, like he was the expert. We took the exact same classes.” She shivered at the thought of those uncomfortable conversations. “And he would constantly tell me how superior his Nikon was.”
“I used to have a Nikon,” Sarah interjected. “They’re really nice cameras.”
Maggie gave her the evil eye.
“So that’s it?” asked Sarah. “That’s the reason he’s the devil? Because he shoots with a Nikon?”
“Pretty much.” She laughed.
Sarah stared at her, waiting for more.
“OK, that’s not the only reason.” Maggie confessed. “He dated my roommate, Emma, in college. She really liked him. A lot. And she thought they were getting serious,
but she found out he was dating another girl in our dorm at the same time. He totally crushed her. I can’t tell you how many nights I sat with her while she cried over him. And he never really apologized for it. He just kind of blew her off and stopped calling.”
Sarah shook her head. “Wow! He is a jerk.”
Maggie nodded. “I know, right?”
December 15, 2008
The Proposal
The warm glow of sunrise lit the streets of Hastings as Maggie drove into town. She traveled along State Street toward downtown, passing the big brick courthouse with its clock tower reading nearly eight o’clock. The old nativity scene was set up on the courthouse lawn as it had been every year for as long as she could remember, and the surrounding pine trees were decorated with colorful Christmas lights. She noticed the sign that read “Holly Trolley Rides Here”. The red and green trolley came out every December for tours of the holiday light displays around town. The streets were all decked out for Christmas with holiday banners and wreaths hanging on all the light posts.
Maggie looked over at the movie theater to see what was playing in case Sarah wanted to see something later in the week. The marquee read: Twilight, Four Christmases, and The Day the Earth Stood Still.
The snow that had fallen overnight left the sidewalks blanketed. Only a few shops were open at this early hour. Their owners were outside shoveling, sweeping, and tossing salt to prevent slip and fall accidents.
As she braked for the stop sign at Church Street, she glanced over at Stevens Printing. The owner, Dave Stevens, was sweeping the snow off the stoop in front of his shop. Maggie tapped her horn and he looked up with a smile and a wave. She waved back and drove on through town.
At Jefferson Street, she pulled into her usual parking space beside her office building and yanked on the emergency brake since it was a bit of an incline. She climbed out of her car and carefully made her way up the slippery sidewalk to State Street.
Maggie looked both ways, though she knew there were usually few cars this early, and walked across the street to the local coffee shop, State Grounds.
“Mornin’, Maggie.” Bill, the owner, handed her a warm cinnamon muffin and a newspaper.
She smiled at him. “You know me well.”
Bill had opened the coffee shop right around the same time Maggie started her photography business. It had quickly become one of her favorite spots in town, not only for the tasty coffee, but because of the warm environment and friendship she had with Bill and his sister, Cindy. All of them had attended school in nearby Middleville. Cindy was a few years ahead of Maggie in school, while Bill graduated with her younger brother, Tom.
Maggie walked over to “The Wall of Mugs”, rows and rows of coffee mugs hung on pegs, all painted with the names of regular customers. She grabbed the one that read “Mags”.
“How was your weekend?” She laid the muffin and paper on the counter and helped herself to a cup of the house blend.
“Very good,” Bill replied. “We had a couple local singers perform on Saturday night.” He leaned forward on his elbows, resting his goateed chin on one of his fists, giving her his full attention. “Thought you might stop by. It was quite the crowd in here.”
“Oh, I’m so sad I missed it. It was a wedding weekend for me.”
“I didn’t think you did weddings in the winter.”
“It’s the off season, but I do shoot a few now and then. Somebody’s gotta pay the bills.”
Bill chuckled and his black-rimmed hipster glasses slipped down on his nose. He pushed them up as he took her money.
“Hi, Maggie.” Cindy emerged from the back of the shop wearing hipster glasses of her own. Her short hair, identical to her brother’s auburn curls, peeked out from under a black beret.
“Hey, Cin.”
“We missed you Saturday.”
“I know. I had a wedding. It was a pretty Christmas theme.”
“That sounds rad. We just finished decorating the other day.” She made air quotes when she said decorating, nodding in the direction of the sparse silver garland and red bows around the window fronts.
Maggie laughed at the sight.
“Not really my forte,” Cindy admitted with a wink.
The bells on the door jingled as Hank Sanders, the local sheriff, strode through the door.
“Mornin’,” he said with a smile.
“Mornin’, Hank,” Bill greeted him.
Hank grabbed his mug and filled it up.
“Morning, Maggie.” Hank handed Bill a buck and some change.
“How are you, Hank?” she asked.
“Can’t complain,” he replied. “How’s business goin’?”
“It’s going very well, thanks. How’s Janet? I haven’t seen her in so long.”
Hank, a tall, lanky man with a shiny bald head, glanced down at her. “You’ll just have to come back to church. We’re there every Sunday. Everyone misses you.”
Maggie nodded uncomfortably. “I work most Sundays,” she mumbled.
He took a sip of his coffee.
After a few awkward moments, she glanced down at her watch. “Speaking of work, I guess I should go get some done.”
Maggie said her goodbyes and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She looked across the street at her cute storefront all decorated up for the holidays with twinkly lights and fluffy pine garland. The building was one of the older brick buildings in town, and she loved its small town charm. Above the door hung a large wooden sign, which read “Magnolia Photography”, with a single white magnolia as her logo.
She walked to the shop, unlocked the front door, and let herself in. The main room was set up as a meeting space for potential clients to look at albums and talk about their weddings. Along the original exposed brick walls were large canvas prints of wedding couples, flowers, and wedding decorations. There were a few portraits of families, children, and babies, but the majority of Maggie’s work was in weddings.
The room looked like a Pottery Barn ad with a heavy leather sofa and chair, pink and chocolate brown patterned pillows to match her business colors, wainscoting on the walls, and flower-filled vases scattered about the room. In the center of the meeting area was a large square coffee table with wedding albums, coffee table books, and a few popular bridal magazines spread across its surface.
Next to the sofa was an old wingback chair Maggie had found at an antique store and reupholstered in a pretty fabric that coordinated with the pillows. It was her favorite chair, and Sarah always teased that it was her throne since she sat there for almost every meeting.
Toward the back of the room was a solid wooden desk for Sarah, who also happened to be her office manager. Behind the desk, white french doors opened into Maggie’s office, where she spent many hours at the computer working on photos. It was definitely an upgrade from the home office she used to have in her tiny apartment. Back then, she would meet people at the coffee shop because she didn’t have a proper meeting space. Her shop wasn’t set up as a traditional studio space with lighting and backdrops, because she mostly worked at weddings and her photo shoots were all done in natural light. It simply served as a workplace and the meeting space she had always wanted.
Maggie stepped through the french doors and set the coffee mug and muffin on her desk. She flipped on the light and powered up her iMac. It was just after eight o’clock, which meant she would have almost an hour of peace and quiet before Sarah arrived to take over the office.
Leaning back in her chair, she flipped through Sunday’s Grand Rapids Press to find the wedding announcements. It made her happy to read each couple’s story and imagine all the moments of their wedding day. On her way to the announcements, she came across a picture of David Hartman, the governor of Michigan, with his wife, Susan, and daughter, Lacey. The article was about a recent trip the governor took with his family, not something that usually interested her, but the picture caught her attention. Standing next to Lacey was a handsome young man. "George Summers," the caption read. S
he skimmed through the article and discovered that George was Lacey’s beau and the son of Senator John Summers of Connecticut. They were a nice looking couple, and Maggie found herself wondering what it would be like to shoot the wedding of such a high profile couple.
She turned a few more pages and smiled when she saw Becky and John, one of her upcoming weddings, in the engagement section. They used one of the engagement photos Maggie had taken in their announcement. It always felt good to see her work in print. She found scissors in her desk drawer, snipped the announcement from the paper, and attached it to her bulletin board.
The wedding section had only one wedding featured. When she noticed it was photographed by Simon, she tossed the paper in the trash and got to work on the pictures from the weekend’s wedding. She loaded the nearly two-thousand photos she had taken into her computer and went about backing them up on an external hard drive for safe keeping.
The familiar sound of a key in the door alerted her to Sarah’s arrival. She heard the clicking of heels across the wood floor.
Sarah peeked her head into Maggie’s office. “Working hard, as usual?” She grinned, then went about her business of tidying up the desk, checking messages, and answering general office emails, all to the tune of the local radio station, WBCH, which was now playing Christmas music 24/7.
At nine o’clock, she unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights.
Maggie took a break and stepped out of her office. “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, knowing it was going to be a slow day.
Sarah jiggled her mouse and brought up the calendar program. “Lunch with DeDe at County Seat. Can I come?”
“Of course,” Maggie replied.
“I love that girl.”
DeDe Rosenberg was a friend and wedding coordinator from Hastings with her office based in Grand Rapids. She was always in the know about everything going on in the wedding world as well as in their small town.
The phone rang then, and Sarah answered. “Magnolia Photography.” She screwed up her face. “One moment please.” She pressed the “hold” button and looked over at Maggie. “It’s for you.”
Goodbye, Magnolia (Cornerstone Book 1) Page 2
