Tying the Knot

by Jeff Shelby

  “Set up?”

  “Annabelle was going to bring along a couple of people to help with getting chairs and tables and tents set up. But Sophia is now fulfilling the role of the wedding planner and I don’t think she’s thought further ahead than what color to paint the mason jars for the centerpieces…”

  Declan chuckled. “I see. Well, I’d say it’s worth a shot. A job is a job, and if he’s in it because he needs the money, I bet he’d be happy to accept.”

  He was significantly more confident than I was, but at least he hadn’t told me it was a horrible idea.

  Then again, this was Declan. Even if it was a terrible suggestion, I wasn’t entirely sure he’d tell me this.

  He folded up the paper bag and set it next to me, then got to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  He checked his watch. “I have a home visit scheduled this afternoon that I need to get to. Priscilla and Donny Olsen.”

  I recognized the names, could vaguely put faces to them.

  “Everything okay with them?”

  “Donny sprained his ankle and they weren’t able to get to church yesterday. I told them I’d swing by today.” He smiled. “I saved some blueberries for them, too.”

  I smiled. Declan was the best, and I knew I wasn’t the only one happy to have him back in Latney after his mission trip to Brazil had been cut short.

  The whole town was better because he was there.

  I stood up, too.

  “And where are you going?” he asked.

  “Inside.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “More wine?”

  “That depends.”

  “On…?”

  “On the outcome of the phone call I’m about to make,” I told him. “If Jackson the DJ is on board with my suggestion, things will be peachy. If not, I may need more than another glass of wine.”

  Declan smiled. “I have faith in you, Rainy.”

  I made a face. “I’m glad someone does.”

  EIGHT

  “Something smells delicious.”

  I looked up from the frying pan I was hovering over.

  It was the next morning, and Luke was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching his head and yawning. His hair stood on end and his eyes were bleary with sleep. I was instantly transported to all the mornings we’d spent in our Arlington home, with Luke assuming the same position.

  “Bacon,” I told him. “And blueberry muffins are in the oven.”

  “Yum.” He poured himself a generous cup of coffee and then sat down at the kitchen table. “You need help?”

  “You can gets dishes out. And cups.” I glanced at the chicken clock on the wall, a gift from Declan. “I imagine Laura and Connor will be up soon. Where’s Thor?”

  “Out for a run.”

  “A run?” I tried to imagine that big hulking man out for a jog and all I could envision was the ground splitting beneath his feet, massive cracks spidering out each time his foot struck the Earth.

  “He’s big time into fitness.” Luke shook his head. “Not sure why.”

  “Maybe because he cares about his health.” I turned the bacon, being careful to avoid the grease sizzling and snapping in the pan as I did so.

  “Maybe.” Luke’s voice was noncommittal. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, everything is cool with the music?”

  The timer on the oven beeped and I pulled the muffin tins out.

  “I think so.”

  “You think?”

  I got out another frying pan to make scrambled eggs. “I talked to the DJ. He’s going to help Sophia instead.”

  “The pregnant lady?”

  I nodded. The conversation with Jackson had gone as well as I could have hoped. He’d been disappointed about losing the DJ gig, but I’d explained how Luke had traveled all the way from the West Coast to surprise his sister and that his band mate had come along, too. When I offered him the opportunity to work on the wedding in other ways, he’d hesitated for only a second before finally saying yes.

  And I’d breathed a massive sigh of relief.

  “How is he going to help?” Luke asked.

  “However we need him,” I said. “Set up, clean up, that kind of thing.”

  He stood up and wandered over to the muffins. He picked off the top of one and stuffed it in his mouth before I could swat his hand away.

  He gave me an impish grin.

  “Some things never change,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  The doorbell rang and Luke and I both looked at each other.

  Luke’s brow furrowed. “I know Drew is supposed to show up sometime this morning…”

  “Drew?” I said blankly.

  “The drummer? The guy Yancy recommended?”

  Of course. How could I have forgotten?

  He left the kitchen and headed for the living room and I refocused on finishing up the bacon.

  He was back a minute later.

  “There’s some girl outside to see you.”

  “A girl?”

  He nodded.

  I turned the heat off on the stove and moved the pan off the burner. The eggs would have to wait.

  I grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped my hands on my way to the front door, Luke padding along behind me.

  Zoe Wilson was standing on my front porch, a CD case in her hands.

  She smiled when she saw me. “I wanted to bring this by,” she said, thrusting the case in my direction.

  I shifted the kitchen towel to one hand so I could take it. “What is this?”

  “It’s a recording of some of Grandma’s music. Just in case the DJ thing doesn’t work out.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding. “Uh, thanks. But I think we’re good in the music department.”

  Another car pulled into the driveway, a beat-up Chevy Malibu whose backseat was crammed with equipment of some type, and we all turned to look.

  “Music?” Luke said.

  “For the wedding,” Zoe told him.

  He frowned. “We’re playing at the wedding. My band.”

  A guy stepped out of the car, a man who looked to be in his late twenties. He had longish dark hair and a face covered in stubble.

  Zoe gasped, and I turned to look at her.

  Her eyes were on the guy currently wrestling a suitcase out of his backseat, which, by the look of things, was wedged underneath a drumhead. And I knew then who was at my house.

  Drew.

  The drummer.

  And judging by the fact he was holding a suitcase, he intended to stay.

  Which meant I needed to house yet another guest.

  “You’re playing?” Zoe said, her eyes wide as she shifted her gaze to Luke.

  He nodded.

  “But…but…” she stammered. “I thought you hired a DJ!” Her tone was accusatory.

  “I did,” I said. “It’s a long story…”

  She glanced at Luke with contempt and then at the man standing in the driveway. With a huff, she whirled around and stormed down the stairs. A minute later, her little Miata was peeling out of the driveway, the tires spitting gravel as they hit the dirt shoulder abutting the road.

  “She didn’t seem too happy,” Luke commented.

  I didn’t respond.

  The guy in the driveway had watched Zoe leave, a sardonic smile on his face. Once she disappeared, he turned his attention back to us, the smile still locked in place.

  “So,” he said as he approached us. “I take it this is where I’m supposed to be? The newest member of Midnight Robot is here.” His smile widened.

  I took an involuntary step back. I’d known Drew for all of one minute and I was immediately on guard.

  So was Luke.

  “Thanks for helping us out,” Luke said cautiously. “Yancy said you’re a good drummer and could fill in nicely for us for this gig.”

  Drew raised an eyebrow, his expression positively wicked. “Yeah? Did she say I was good at anything else?”

  I darted a glance at m
y son. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his gaze hardened. “Nope.”

  Drew just chuckled.

  I felt a growing sense of unease as I watched the two of them stare each other down.

  I had a distinct feeling that the two of them weren’t going to hit it off.

  And I had no idea what to do about it.

  NINE

  “They sound good,” Connor said, almost grudgingly.

  It was later that evening and we were sitting in the foyer of St. Simon’s, listening to Midnight Robot practice.

  The fact that the three men were playing well together was about the only bright spot in an otherwise mostly dismal day.

  A downpour of rain would have been enough to dampen anyone’s spirits. It had certainly squelched Luke’s plans to jam on the front porch at the house. A quick call to Declan had been enough to secure an indoor space large enough for them to practice, although I wasn’t sure how he felt about hearing rock tunes reverberating through the sanctuary.

  But it wasn’t just the rain that had me in a bit of a funk. I was also feeling a little peeved because Connor and I both had to play chauffeur to get the guys to the church in the first place, especially since Drew’s battery somehow managed to die sitting in my driveway. Normally, I wouldn’t have minded, but sitting in the same car with Luke and Drew was like entering a room filled with cats and dogs.

  Nonstop bickering.

  It had started innocently enough. They’d talked about music styles and their experiences with their respective bands, but I could hear the underlying tension between the two of them. Their first disagreement arose over reggae music. Luke was a big fan and Drew thought it was complete crap. That had escalated to a discussion of who the most important member of a band was. Drew, naturally, claimed it was the drummer. I expected Luke to pipe up that it was the guitarist or the singer, but he surprised me.

  “Nope,” he’d said, shaking his head. “It’s the bassist.”

  Drew had snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  But Luke then proceeded to cite a scientific study that proved it was indeed, the bassist. Thor, who had been listening to the discussion but not participating, had simply nodded his head in agreement. Since he was the bassist.

  It had devolved from there.

  Even from where Connor and I were sitting out in the foyer, I could hear them start and stop the music, their voices rising on occasion as they discussed and dissected each song.

  “I wonder if I should check in with them,” I said. “See how everything is going.”

  Connor looked at me like I was crazy.

  Voices sounded from the hallway near Declan’s office and we both turned to look. Mabel and Zoe were rounding the corner. Zoe stiffened when she saw me.

  “Oh, hello,” Mabel said, a bright smile on her powdered, wrinkled face. “What are you doing here?”

  The question was directed at me.

  I motioned toward the closed sanctuary door. “My son needed a place for his band to practice. Declan kindly offered the sanctuary.”

  Mable nodded, her white curls bobbing. “He certainly is a dear man.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Visiting Declan?” I thought he’d left, but maybe I was mistaken.

  Mabel shook her head. “No, I was just practicing in the piano room. I like to get in a few practice sessions before Sunday’s services.” Her gaze drifted to the closed doors of the sanctuary. “Band, you say? Do they need a singer?”

  “My son sings,” I told her. “And plays the guitar.”

  “Hmm.” Her brow creased. “But no female singer?”

  I could almost see the gears working in her mind.

  “He’s visiting from San Francisco,” I said. “He’s only here through the weekend.”

  Her face fell. “Oh.” She sighed deeply.

  “I tried, Grandma,” Zoe said, frowning. “I offered to have you sing at the wedding, but Rainy said they hired a DJ. And then they brought in this…this band.”

  Her tone was so derisive, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why she was so offended over something as small as her grandma performing at a wedding she literally knew nothing about. The first Zoe had heard of it was in the Wicked Wich, and I’d already told her the entertainment was taken care of. Why was she taking it so personally?

  “Come on.” Zoe took her grandmother by the arm and led her down the hall and toward the exit. She stole a couple of glances back at us, her mouth twisted into a scowl.

  The music inside the sanctuary stopped again.

  I stood up. “I’m going to pop in there.”

  The look on Connor’s face told me he didn’t think this was a good idea, but I ignored him.

  Turns out he was right.

  “—the wrong key,” Drew was saying.

  Luke glared at him. “I did not. You lost the beat.”

  Drew slammed his drumstick down on the snare. “Oh, so now you’re trying to blame me for that song sounding like complete and utter crap.” He shook his head in disgust but then his eyes landed on me. They narrowed. “What are you doing in here?”

  I swallowed. “I just wanted to see how things were going.”

  “How do they look like they’re going?” he barked.

  I shrank back.

  “Hey.” Luke’s voice was sharp. “Don’t talk to her that way.”

  “I can talk however I want,” Drew countered scathingly. “Especially if someone is interrupting the creative process.”

  Luke stared hard at the drummer. “You know, we don’t have to do this.”

  “What? Argue?” Drew nodded. “I agree. And if you’d just listen to me, we wouldn’t be having any of these problems in the first place.”

  I cleared my throat. “Um, I’m going to step back out now.” I gave them a weak thumb’s up. “Sounding good, guys!”

  I shut the door and leaned up against it, my heart pounding.

  I wasn’t sure all three of them would be alive the next time I opened the door, not if the tension currently permeating the room was any indication.

  Connor had disappeared but I could hear him talking, his own voice rising as he spoke. I frowned. Who was he arguing with? Had Zoe come back inside during my brief moment in the sanctuary?

  I walked toward the sound of his voice and soon spotted him pacing the hallway outside of Declan’s locked office. He was on the phone, and judging by both his expression and his voice, he was not happy.

  At all.

  He punched off the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

  “Bad news?” I asked, as gently as I could.

  He huffed out a sigh. “The worst.”

  My thoughts instantly went to his ailing grandmother. I didn’t know much about her condition, but I was now envisioning all kinds of worst-case scenarios.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes. “The food truck I was trying to book for the reception is in the shop.”

  This was the first I’d heard that a food truck would be providing food for the wedding. “Food truck? I thought you were having it catered…”

  “I was. By a food truck,” he said. “Except now I’m not.”

  “It’s in the shop? For repairs?”

  He nodded miserably, his eyes still closed.

  I did some quick mental calculations. “But it’s only Tuesday. Maybe it will be ready by Saturday?”

  “It’s nothing to do with the actual truck,” he explained. “The fridge is shot. And they can’t get a replacement one for at least a week.”

  “Oh.” I thought for a moment. “Are there others you can call? Other food trucks, I mean?”

  He shook his head. “There is another similar food truck, but their sushi isn’t quite as good. I guess I can check with them, though.”

  I stared at him. “Sushi?”

  He gave me a weird look.

  “Does Laura eat sushi now?” I asked.

  He glanced uncomfortably at t
he floor. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, I think she’d really like it if she tried it…”

  I gaped at him, then quickly tried to compose myself. Now was not the time for a lecture. Not that I’d feel comfortable giving Connor one at any time.

  “Um, I’m not sure that the bride’s wedding reception is the right time to introduce a new food to her.” I tried to be as tactful as possible. “Especially if it’s going to be the only thing on the menu…”

  “We’ll have rice,” he said defensively.

  I tried a different approach. “Is having sushi that important to you? Or having a food truck? Or…?”

  He threw up his hands. “This is the one thing I get to plan. The one area of the wedding I’m responsible for!”

  I felt a pang of sympathy for Connor. He was just trying to participate, to be part of the wedding planning. After all, it was just as much his wedding as it was Laura’s.

  “And it’s all my fault that the whole thing got moved up in the first place,” he said.

  The sympathy I was feeling grew.

  He probably did feel responsible, considering it was his grandmother who had requested that the event be expedited.

  But it wasn’t his fault, just like it wasn’t his fault that the food truck was in the shop, and that his fiancée didn’t like sushi. He couldn’t control any of that.

  What he could control was providing food options that would appeal to the greatest number of guests…including his future wife.

  “You know,” I said slowly, “I have a friend who has a restaurant.”

  Connor grimaced. “The Wicked Wich?”

  I could see exactly what he was thinking. There was no way he would serve food from some small town dive bar at his wedding.

  Thankfully, I had a better suggestion.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “A new restaurant. Called The Cow & Vine.”

  His eyes flickered with interest and he waited for me to elaborate.

  “They sell burgers.” His nose wrinkled and I added, “And they have local wines. From the vineyards nearby. Fancy stuff. I think a lot of them have won awards.”

  I could tell this appealed to the foodie in him. Local wines were a definite selling point, and I could see all of his Beltway friends being impressed with this detail. Actually, I could see Connor being impressed, too.