by Jenny Hale
“I’ll get her to call you, Katharine. It’ll be just fine,” he spoke into the phone. He huffed out a little laugh at something she said, causing Holly to turn back to her sandwich. She sat down and picked at the crust. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” he said to his fiancée. “Okay, bye.”
So much for parting ways when the snow melted. What had she just agreed to?
Nine
Nana went to lie down after lunch, and Holly hoped she’d wake up in a better mood. She’d never seen Nana as agitated as she’d been since they arrived at the cabin. While it was just Joe and Holly, Joe carried the boxes of wedding items that he’d retrieved earlier into the living room and set them in the empty space on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. Holly grabbed a pad of paper and her pen to take notes while Joe went to the kitchen. When he returned, he placed five bottles of champagne on the table.
“Now that you’re our wedding planner, we’ll need to decide which of these would be great for the toast at the rehearsal, and then choose the bottle that we’ll offer the guests at the reception.”
“What made you think I’d be good for this job?” she asked, seriously wondering if he’d hit his head when she wasn’t around or something.
“You said you planned a wedding before, and I’m blown away by the interior of this cabin—you did that, right?”
He was smiling at her when he said it, as if her question was funny or cute in some way. Well, it wasn’t. She was being serious. She peered down at the champagne choices to avoid looking at him.
“I told you the wedding was very informal and small-scale. Nothing like what you’re talking about. We didn’t even have champagne. We had beer in the can…”
Holly pulled a bottle toward her. She’d seen one of these labels before in the restaurant where she worked. It was easily a seven hundred dollar bottle of champagne and had its own special location, under lock and key. She picked it up and ran her hand over the label.
“It’s cold,” she noted, her surprise causing her to abandon the original conversation for a moment.
“Yes,” he said, leaning over her and viewing the one she’d chosen. “I put them in the fridge this morning. I figured even if you didn’t help me decide, I’d rather have cold champagne to make the choice myself.”
Holly’s shoulders relaxed when he moved away from her to dig around in all the wedding items. He pulled out a large, rectangular gift box and untied the white satin ribbon, retrieving from inside a champagne flute. It had silver around the rim, cut edges through the glass that made the whole thing look like diamonds, and two silver rings with tiny white rhinestones encircling the stem. He set it down with a thud, the way Nana would’ve set a Tupperware cup, its beauty clearly lost on him, and reached back into the box. One after another, he set up flutes, each its own work of art. After the sixth glass had been unwrapped, he sat back and scrutinized them.
“We’re drinking from one of these for the rehearsal and we need another for when we toast after cake cutting. I think that’s what Katharine told me. Does that sound right?”
Holly was so blown away by their loveliness that she almost missed what Joe said and forgot to answer him. She pictured each one in Katharine’s hands, guessing Katharine would probably have long, thin fingers with a perfect pearl-colored manicure wrapped around the flute, the bubbling and fizzing gold liquid shimmering in the cuts of glass under the evening lights. She set the bottle down and picked up the flute with the silver rings.
“Katharine told me they all look just as exquisite to her, so we can pick whichever one we like for each night. I have to agree with her—any of them would be fine with me. Do you think there’s one that’s better suited for each event? Let’s put the champagne in them and see if that helps to make the decision.”
He picked up the seven-hundred-dollar bottle and unwound the casing on the top. Holly jumped at the hollow pop as Joe pushed the cork free. Gently, he took the glass from her hands and filled it, handing it back to her. Holly stared down at it, the roaring fire behind her making the glass appear blazing orange.
“A toast,” Joe said, causing her focus to move from her flute. He’d filled another glass—this one more substantial with less embellishment. “To chance meetings and perfect timing.” He held up his champagne. “You saved our wedding,” he said.
Holly raised her own glass and tapped it to his, wondering if she was going to wake up in Nana’s house back in Nashville and realize that this was just some sort of stress dream. Was this really happening?
She tipped the champagne glass against her lips and let the liquid slide into her mouth, using restraint not to down it like a shot. She needed a nice drink right about now. The champagne was smooth and fizzing against her tongue, the most delicious champagne she’d ever had.
“Wow,” she said, despite herself. “This is really good.”
“Okay, it’s a contender then.” Joe popped the cork off another bottle, filling two more glasses and handing her one.
Holly had to force herself to put the one she was drinking down, deciding she’d come back to it and finish it off. It was too good not to. She took a drink of the next glass, this one even better than the other. “That’s amazing!”
He laughed. “It ought to be. It’s a thousand dollars a bottle.”
“Oh!” She snapped her mouth shut, surprise taking over.
Joe laughed again. “It’s fine. Just let me know which one tastes the best once we’ve tried them all.”
After they’d opened every bottle, Holly had glasses lined up in front of her, all with half-finished champagne in them. She kept going back and forth, trying each one, attempting to choose, but every one was so delicious that she couldn’t decide. Her shoulders were relaxed now, she’d forgotten about the dull pain in her ankle, and she had to keep blinking to keep her vision clear. Joe was on the sofa across from her, reclined, his arm outstretched along the back with a champagne flute dangling from his fingers. He’d refilled his flute a few times. His features were relaxed and content as he looked at her.
“Have you made a choice yet?” he asked.
“Do you have one that stands out above the others?” She set her flute down and tried to read the labels of each one again, still undecided.
“I like this one,” he said, leaning forward and taking one of the bottles into his hand. He added more to his glass.
“Me too.”
He topped hers off. “Rehearsal or reception? Or both?”
“How expensive is it? If it’s outrageous, then I’d say rehearsal. If it’s moderately priced, then both.”
“It’s somewhere in the middle,” he said. “So let’s go with this one for both the rehearsal and the reception.”
Holly lifted the bottle and jotted down the name of the champagne on her pad of paper.
Joe took another drink from his glass, the now dwindling fire and the alcohol making his cheeks flush in a way that made him even more attractive. He got up and moved closer to Holly, sitting down on the floor beside her. Her pulse rose, making her wonder if the alcohol was affecting her heartbeat. She tried to move away, but he leaned toward her, and she held her breath, nearly spilling her champagne. Before she could process anything, he’d stuck his hand in the box behind her and pulled out a tin.
“On to wedding favors,” he said, holding it up. “This is the first option: a tiny tin of mints.” He pursed his lips, clearly thinking it over as he set it on the coffee table.
“It’s mint green,” she said, amusement surfacing. “Mint green mints.” She laughed quietly.
His eyes were on her and it seemed that he found it just as funny. He held her gaze, making her stomach feel fluttery. Suddenly, she worried that if she tried to form a sentence, it would come out jumbled.
Holly decided to switch to a non-alcoholic drink. She’d have thought she hadn’t been in the presence of a man before. Why did he fluster her so badly? It must have been the champagne—how strong was it?
“I
think I need some water before we start this round.” She went to get up, but he’d placed his hand on her arm, stopping her cold.
“Wait…” He pulled out a water bottle that said, “Joseph and Katharine” in curly script the same mint green as the tin and placed it in front of her with a grin.
She laughed. “Water bottles as wedding favors?”
He offered a mock serious expression. “You think it’s funny?” Then he dug back into the box. “I’ll show you funny.” He turned around, wearing the most ridiculous pair of black sunglasses she’d ever seen with “Joseph and Katharine” in green script on the side. The sight of it made her burst into laughter.
“What?” he said from behind them as if there was nothing wrong, only succeeding in making her laugh more.
He handed Holly a pair and she slipped them on, the two of them still sitting on the floor, the fire now just a flicker of blue light.
Without taking them off, he said, “How many weddings have you been to?”
“I don’t know.” She pushed her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose.
“Actually try to count. Three? Seven? Twenty-five? What?” He reached over and grabbed his glass of champagne off the table, taking a sip.
“Uh.” Holly shook her head and adjusted her glasses again, mentally counting. “Seven, I think. Eight! Yes, eight.”
“And how many of those eight wedding favors do you still own?”
“Mmm. One. I have a beer koozie.”
“And when you drink a can of beer, do you use it?”
“No. I prefer the one I got in Florida on vacation.”
“Exactly.” He set out a carton of golf tees, a hand-painted drink coaster, a box of matches, a tiny packet of cookies, a sachet of chocolates, and a few other items. “These are all fine party favors—people give them all the time. But how am I supposed to pick one of these when I just don’t see the purpose in them?”
He was right. None of the items were hitting the mark for her either. They needed something though—it was customary to send guests home with a token to remember the day. She grabbed her own champagne, abandoning the bottle of water, and turned toward the window. The light came in off the snow in a shade of blue through her sunglasses. She needed something useful but also beautiful… “What if we could find little crystal snowflakes? We could tie mint green ribbons to them, and they could be used as Christmas ornaments the next year.”
“You are a genius!” he said. “That’s amazing. Do you think we can find some?”
“I’m sure we can! But if not, we always have the sunglasses to fall back on.”
They both grinned at each other.
“You call this work?” Nana’s voice came sailing across to them from the doorway. She marched into the center of the room and put her hands on her hips. “With those glasses on, you two look like you’re about to be in a Tom Cruise movie.”
Joe must’ve had just enough champagne to loosen up, because he rummaged around in the box and stood with a third pair of glasses. “Don’t worry,” he said, opening them up, his lips set in an affectionate smile. “We’ve got a pair for you.”
Nana batted them away, but the corners of her mouth were twitching upward ever so slightly, and Holly knew Joe had said just the right thing. That was the sort of thing Papa would’ve said, and in that moment it made Holly a little sentimental. She wished for more great times, more laughter, more happiness. That was how Christmas should be.
Ten
Holly was still working on the wedding ideas this morning, and she’d been going strong for the last few hours, considering Katharine’s choice of mint green as the accent color for January, trying to quickly come up with a winter color scheme to complement it. Maybe she could add dark red rose bouquets with trailing deep red ribbons from the handles—she’d have to check with the florist…
Last night, Joe went back to his room to get some work done, leaving Holly to familiarize herself with the wedding plans, while Nana stayed busy in the kitchen, cleaning up and finding everything she needed for making a few batches of cookies. With everyone having gone their separate ways, Nana decided to wait and make them today. The room was awash in Nana’s baking preparations—something with sugar and molasses.
Joe and Katharine were about to spend the rest of their lives together. The idea of this made Holly think about Papa and Nana. She couldn’t imagine one without the other. Would Holly ever find love that could stand the test of time? She hadn’t been looking before now, but meeting Joe had made her think about it. She hadn’t known that guys like Joe even existed. He’d definitely raised the bar.
The fire had been going all morning and was now completely out. Holly went to the door to get more logs, a blast of icy air assaulting her, making her shiver as she stepped onto the front porch. She wriggled one of the heavy logs, the giant piece of wood teetering precariously on the top of the dwindling pile as Holly worked to steady it, her weight on her strongest ankle.
“Are you trying to heat the outside?” Nana said from the doorway, while drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
Her question caused Holly to turn, the log slamming down onto the porch. “I was getting more wood for the fire, but it’s super heavy.” She made a mental note that she might need to chop the pieces smaller for the winter renters from now on. Papa had always lifted the logs with ease, and she felt his absence as she bent down to retrieve the cumbersome piece of wood, struggling with her icy cold hands.
Joe poked his head out from behind Nana. Holly had barely seen him this morning.
“I heard a slam.” He leaned outside and zeroed in on the log that was still mere inches from Holly’s foot. “Let me help.” He came outside, his dark navy sweater contrasting against the blanket of white around him, and lifted the log from the porch easily, carrying it inside.
Holly followed.
“I emailed Katharine about the snowflake ornaments,” he said, turning around to address Holly before dumping the log into the fire. It popped and sizzled in protest. “She said that sounded wonderful.”
“Great.”
Nana was back at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs into a large bowl. She turned the mixer on, the squeal slicing through their conversation. Holly kept her focus on Joe.
“I also realized I should go over your fees with you to be sure we’re all on the same page. Katharine had asked about it and I told her I’d pay you what I’d planned to pay Brea—I hope that’s okay.”
Holly plopped down on the sofa and Joe faced her, clapping his hands together to rid them of any dirt from the log and then sliding them into the pockets of his jeans in an adorably casual way. “What’s the going rate for a wedding planner these days?” she asked.
“At five hours per weekday, over a holiday, Brea would charge us around ten thousand dollars from here on out to work until the wedding.”
Nana dropped a spoon and it clattered to the floor. She picked it up, her eyes round with surprise as she looked at Holly through the large opening between the rooms. She straightened her expression and pulled out the silverware drawer for another utensil.
Joe’s attention moved to the kitchen briefly before returning to Holly. “Every additional hour after the five each week would cost us one hundred and seventy-five dollars. Would that be sufficient?”
There were actual people in the world that got paid ten grand for a few weeks of choosing wedding décor and making a couple of phone calls? She was bursting with excitement for a few seconds before something hit her: this wasn’t Papa’s cabin in the woods or Tammy’s backyard wedding. This was a mansion, a thousand guests… She needed elegance like she’d never created before, grandeur up to her eyeballs. This was big. It was huge.
Nana came in and set a warm plate of ginger snaps in front of them. “I’ve got more cooking in the oven,” she said, lingering there.
“You’ll have a full team. There are people to set up and take down both the wedding and the reception; you’ll have cleaning crews, decorator
s who can carry out your plans, carpenters if you need them; once you get the wedding party down the aisle, there will be coordinators for the estate that will take over from there. Brea wasn’t planning to stay—she had another engagement in LA after ours—but she had an agreement with Katharine to start the wedding. The team at the estate would do this, but Katharine wanted her own private coordinator to get everyone down the aisle since that part involves pairing up the wedding party, timing of the march in the processional, and placement of everyone for the ceremony. She’d rather trust Brea with that than event staff, so Brea had agreed to stay to begin the ceremony. But then the team will take over, and all you have to do is tell them what you want.”
Holly gazed into those dark eyes, the fire causing little flecks of gold to dance in them. Even though this was the first time she’d ever done anything like this, and she could fail miserably, she knew it was the chance of a lifetime and she was ready.
With her eyes still clamped on Joe, Nana cut in once more. “Holly, when you and Joe finish this conversation, I need to see you in the kitchen, please.” She pushed the plate of cookies toward them and, before Holly could get a read on her, she shuffled out of the room with purpose.
“If you pull this off for us, I’ll even wear the Joseph-and-Katharine sunglasses if you want me to,” he teased.
“If you mention them again, I’m going to assume you want them and you’re just too scared to admit it.” She snagged a ginger snap before getting up and walking over to the mantle, where she’d left her pair. “I mean, you’re the one who pulled them out of the box.” She peered down at the green writing on the side, reading it again—Joseph and Katharine—and she looked up at him. “Why don’t these say ‘Joe and Katharine’ since that’s what everyone calls you?”
