by Annie Adams
Of course, it wasn’t just her small action that had spurred this personal reassessment. Over the past couple of weeks, I’d done some deep soul-searching. Probably stemming from a tendency from me to feel a little bit jealous when it came to Alex, and his new trainee at work.
I was proud of myself for realizing I had nothing to worry about when it came to the pretty, twenty-something he was spending more time with than me every day. Nope, no more petty jealousies, no more anger. From now on, I was going to be nothing but Zen.
"There's a causeway that leads to the lodge,” I said. “But, at this time of year it’s under water. The only way to get there is by boat.”
“Well then how are the guests going to get there?”
“They’ll have small transport boats, like ferries."
K.C. rubbed her palms together. "This is going to be fun! I'm so excited for this wedding."
The flower part of it was exciting. The blind date bridesmaid gig—not so much. It still felt awkward and weird. But the groom was a friend of Alex, so I knew I didn't need to worry. We would all probably get along swimmingly.
"What do you think about the theme for this wedding?"
"You know that it’s a Gatsby inspired costume wedding.”
She nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“I don't know a lot about it, but the research for the flower décor has been really interesting. Everything will match the theme. London has some items she wants us to incorporate into the personal flowers. That's why I left things without the finishing ribbons and such. We'll just add them in when we get there."
"I love that era. The design style, the music, and the clothing," K.C. put her hand to her chest in a dramatic gesture of awestruck. "In fact—"
Just then the infamous semi-truck cut in front of us again.
“That sonofagun!" K.C. yelled.
I slammed on the brakes, trying not to overdo it and roll the van. Good thing we were riding in Zombie Sue, the undead delivery van. She stayed on all four wheels.
“Land sakes, you’d think someone had it out for us,” K.C. said.
"I think we made him mad. Perhaps it was the one-fingered salute?"
K.C. grimaced. "You're probably right. Sorry, Boss."
I grinned to let her know I was kidding. The new me wouldn’t hold on to a grudge about something as petty as that.
Thankfully, we’d reached our exit at Lambs Canyon, where, in a few miles, we would hook up to the narrow paved road leading to the lake, and leave the uncourteous semi-driver behind. My stomach began to bubble. I was nervous to meet the bride, and I had my typical insecurities about the floral designs. Would the bride and groom like them? It was especially important because they were Alex's friends. And then there was part about working with another florist. I hoped our work would coordinate seamlessly with hers.
“Didn’t you say this old mansion was haunted?”
“I never said it was haunted.” I was surprised it had taken her this long to mention something about ghosts or haunting. She was convinced the old building housing our flower shop was haunted. She just hadn’t quite figured out who the many specters that apparently filled the shop were. Yet. When asked for reasons she knew we had ghosts, she was still a bit fuzzy on the details.
She looked out the window. “Okay…whatever you say. I guess I’ll have to see for myself. Now, let’s go over the plan one more time.”
“Right. Good idea. We’ll get there in about forty minutes. There’s supposed to be a call box at the parking lot. We’ll call them and wait until they come with a boat. I’ll have to leave the car running with the AC until they get to us.”
She clapped her hands gleefully. “Will there be a handsome young boat captain at the helm, just waiting to whisk us away to distant shores?”
“Um—I’m not sure who it will be, specifically.”
“One can always hope,” she said. “How ‘bout we call them now and order one ahead?”
“Very funny. That reminds me, Alex said the cell phone reception is terrible up here. They have land lines at the lodge, though.”
K.C. let out a sigh, sounding as if she’d taken a sip of warm cocoa. “Ahh, we’ll be roughing it then. It’s kind of nice to think about being untethered to a stupid phone for a few hours. I’ll call Fred from the land line when I’m ready to leave tonight.”
“You know, Christie—the bride—said you’re welcome to stay.”
“Yes, well, I brought a change of clothes appropriate for the wedding. And I brought my overnight bag just in case, but I feel funny butting in on a stranger’s wedding.”
“Given that I’m a bridesmaid and I’ve never met either the bride or groom in person, I don’t think you should give it a second thought.” And the fact that she never minded butting in on anything. “Besides, since when are you ever worried about—oh, wow.”
We’d been climbing up the mountain for miles and had just then reached the crest. The lake had come into full view all at once.
“Glorious,” K.C. said with a touch of reverence.
The water was such an intense turquoise-blue it didn’t seem real. We followed the steep, winding road, which led us through pine and quaking aspen, obscuring the lake from view again until we reached the bottom of the hill. The narrow road circled around not too far from the shore. We finally arrived at the parking lot, presumably at the end of the causeway.
K.C.’s sharp intake of breath said it all. “It’s not just a lodge, it’s a palace.”
She was right. Any wedding held here would be an absolute fairy tale. No matter its age, the building looked centuries old, and massive. As if it had been shipped from England, brick by brick.
Now, all we had to do was load everything into a boat, steered by a stranger with who-knows-how-much experience and make it all the way to the rocky shores without falling in. I hadn’t shared my three near-drowning experiences with K.C., or in fact, with anyone. And I planned to keep it that way.
* * *
“You must be Quincy.” A spritely woman with bouncy, blond curls greeted us at the back door. I’m London, from Ivy and Stone.”
After a ride across the lake on what was essentially a row boat on steroids, we’d made it to the dock and managed to unload without losing anyone or anything in the water. The kid who’d captained the boat liked to go fast. By the look on K.C.’s face when we arrived, I could tell she felt the same way I did about what seemed like our near-capsizing. Only, I don’t think she’d had to pry her fingernails out of the sides of the boat like I had.
My mother would’ve been hopeful, though. At least for a few minutes, I became religious again. With every bump and skip where the boat became airborne, I closed my eyes and uttered a prayer.
Once the flowers were safely loaded onto carts, K.C. and I took them inside and then K.C. went back to load up any hard goods like ribbon and tools. London showed me to the workroom, where we would place finishing touches and then leave all the personal flowers we had brought with us.
The bride’s bouquet was a lovely hand-tied arrangement of open-cut calla lilies. Strands of pearls, off-white feathers, and many different jewels were ready to be placed in all of the women’s personal flowers. London pointed out a collar made specifically to wrap around the stems of the bride’s bouquet, made of rhinestones and faux pearls. And true to the period, narrow ribbons with rose buds tied into them at intervals were inserted into the bouquet. They dripped all the way to the floor.
The wedding flowers and the rest of the decor were all about opulence, reflecting the Jazz Age. Art Deco was the main design influence, although modern touches were a big part of the overall theme. According to London, the wedding cake, decorated with fondant, had been patterned after many of the motifs found in the design of the Empire State Building. She took me on a tour of the mansion, pointing out all the different places where flowers were used.
“There will be an arrangement in your bedroom, too. This couple stuck to the theme in everything they did. You’re
just going to die when you see the bride’s dress. It’s amazing. Simple, yet elegant, it’ll look like she walked out of the 1920’s,” London said.
“You’ve done an amazing job here,” I said. “K.C. will be so sad she missed the tour.” Just then a shadow passed across the opening to the room and the floor creaked in the hall. “Oh wait, that might be her.”
I went to the door to get her attention and show her where we were, but there was no one anywhere near.
“Huh, false alarm.”
“No problem, I’ll be happy to take her around when we finish the flowers.”
“Great, I’ll tag along for another tour. You always miss so much the first time around.” I couldn’t help standing there and gawking at the surroundings. “So, do you do most of your work out of this mansion?”
“Oh no, I wish.” She giggled and her voice sounded like musical chimes. “We only do a few events here every year. Some people say this place is haunted, which is just so silly. But some brides are superstitious about that kind of thing. The ghost tourism business has increased quite a bit though.” Her laugh filled the air again.
“What was that part about ghosts?” London and I both jumped. Another underwear check brought to us by our exuberant friend, K.C.
“London, this is K.C.,” I said.
K.C.’s arm shot out. “Pleased to meet you, London.” They shared a vigorous handshake thanks to K.C. “The flowers look just swell, really lovely.”
London giggled melodically again. “Why, thank you. The flowers you all brought were beautiful.”
“So, about the ghosts…”
“I wouldn’t worry about them, K.C. I’ve worked events here for a while now and have never seen any. Although, my former business partner was here in the house alone with a client once. And it’s a long story, but she says they were married by a man who couldn’t have been here at the time, because he was down in the parking lot with me at the very same moment.”
“Whoa. I’ll try to wrap my head around all of that in a minute.”
The fairy laugh sounded again. “It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone but my partner and the bride’s brother were down in the parking lot under a giant tent we’d set up for people waiting to be taken up to the lodge. It all worked out in the end. We had a fun reception outside under the tent and my partner got married to her own Prince Charming.”
I could almost see the gears working in K.C.’s head. She opened her mouth, presumably to ask another question when we heard voices from the front of the lodge.
“Sounds like they’re back from the hike,” London said.
My insides leapt around like I’d been eating Pop Rocks. Not only because I was nervous to meet the bride and groom, but because I would finally get to see Alex again. The latest stretch with his job had been longer than usual, and if it wasn’t his job that kept us apart, it was mine. Or my family, or his, or—insert any reason here—there always seemed to be something preventing us from spending time together.
On the bright side, it just made the reunions all the better. And since we’d both taken time off for this wedding, at least we’d be able to stay together in the mansion that evening after the wedding reception. I found my feet carrying me in the direction of the voices.
Chapter Two
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m fine. Really.”
My heart beat a little faster when I overheard the conversations coming from the front of the lodge. I recognized Alex’s voice reply after someone mentioned calling an ambulance.
At least twenty pairs of eyes greeted me once I reached the entry hall. I realized I'd been running. I must’ve looked very interesting with my green stained apron, hair fallen out of its fastener, and dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping the night before.
“Hi.” I looked from one pair of stranger’s eyes to the next. There wasn’t a hint of recognition in any of them. “Um, is Alex here?”
“Over here, Q.” A gaggle of gorgeous women parted to reveal Alex sitting in a chair next to the front door.
A couple of the women flinched away from me as I walked through the little gauntlet they’d created. I knew I was a stranger, but this seemed a little extreme.
Alex cracked a smile when I reached his chair, and there was a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Everything’s okay, babe. You can put the knife down.”
“Huh?” I looked down at the florist’s knife I’d been carrying the whole time. The knife is an extension of the florist’s hand. I don’t ever notice when I’m holding mine.
“Oh, geez,” I said, feeling my cheeks stoking. I shoved the knife into an apron pocket. My first meeting with the bride and groom—Alex’s friends—and I’m a knife wielding psychopath descending from the darkened hall to attack them all.
I had such a knack for first impressions.
A woman brushed past me and handed Alex a plastic sandwich bag full of ice. “Here you go.”
“What happened to you?” I kneeled down beside his chair to get a better view of the back of his head. I gasped when I saw blood on the hair protruding from under the ice bag he held.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
“How do you know? You can’t see it.”
He laughed. “I guess you’ve got a point.” He held my hand with his unoccupied one. “Don’t worry, Q. I’m fine.”
“You must be Quincy.”
I looked up at the beautiful blond woman who had spoken.
“I’m Christie. We’ve talked on the phone.”
I stood to shake her hand. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Everything looks beautiful.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe the day has finally come. You know, you’ve got yourself quite the mountaineer here.”
“Oh, really?” I hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, it was just that Alex and I had been on hikes together, but he’d never performed any outstanding feats of mountaineering that I knew of. “I’ve been missing out. We’ll have to go hiking when we get home so you can…”
He hadn’t heard a word of what I said. Another attractive woman had managed to sneak in next to his other side. She stood over him while they talked. He looked so adorably vulnerable, peering up at her with his big, chocolate drop eyes, like an injured puppy, holding the ice pack to his owie. A man in obvious need of a woman’s care. He probably wasn’t even trying to do it. It just came naturally.
A sickening display.
“What happened to your head?” I asked, ignoring the sharp look his newfound caretaker shot at me.
“It was nothing, just barely grazed me.”
I tried to raise one eyebrow like he did to me when he didn’t believe everything I was saying. I managed to hitch my forehead up, which probably only made me look goofy. “It doesn’t look barely grazed. Here, let me look under the bag. You’re bleeding, you know.”
I reached out to lift the ice bag and peek under it but he dodged. “It’s nothing, really. The head always bleeds more than the rest of the body.”
“That’s far less than comforting,” I said. “What happened?”
The woman who had given me the stink-eye chimed in. “A big old statue fell off the top of the building as we were coming inside. If Alex had been standing two more inches to the right, blammo, he would have been a pancake.”
“What?”
A woman who looked almost exactly like the one who had just spoken stepped closer to me. Alex had gorgeous clones vying for his affections now. “My sister exaggerates, as usual. It wasn’t a giant statue, Megan.”
Megan gave her matching sister a withering stare. “Well then, what would you call it, Regan?”
Alex stood. “Thank you for the help, ladies. I’m going to head to my room and clean up. Christie, where’s Mike disappeared to? I want him to meet Quincy.”
“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Probably the kitchen, sneaking food meant for the reception tonight. C’mon, Quincy, let’s go find him.”
&
nbsp; “Okay. I’ll catch up with you, I just need to talk to Alex real quick.”
“Sure,” she said.
I smiled as she walked over to a small group of people on the other side of the corridor. “A statue?” I said through my giant fake smile.
Alex smiled back at me. “A little piece of paw or claw fell off one of the gargoyles. It was nothing. Why are we smiling like this?” he said from behind clenched teeth. “My mouth hurts.”
“I seem to be off on the wrong foot with your admirers. So I need to be extra friendly. Besides, I’m just worried about you, that’s all, Mr. Mountaineer. I know all about head injuries due to unfortunate personal experience. Here, let me look into your eyes.”
The little wrinkles around his eyes gathered as he grinned. He stared down at me with his melty chocolate drops. He didn’t say anything, just stood there smiling.
“Stop it,” I said, playfully.
“What?”
“You know what. You’re doing the melty thing with your eyes.”
He blinked several times. “You mean, this?”
I made my best attempt at a straight face, unsuccessfully. I couldn’t help smiling at him, naturally this time.
“I love you, Q. Thanks for worrying about me, but I promise, I’m fine. Go meet everyone, and I’ll see you up at the room a little later.” He waggled his eyebrows seductively. Which made me laugh. We really needed the time together this weekend. He kissed my cheek, then climbed the steps of the grand staircase.
“Boss, I want you to meet Pam and Jill, here.” K.C. stood next to a woman who could only have been around five feet tall, but she had long, strawberry blond hair that reached all the way to her hips. Next to her was a woman not quite as short, who obviously didn’t eat at Bulgy Burger like I did—on occasion. Her shaggy hair had been colored a silky, almost blue-black. It reminded me of the velvet in the Elvis pictures hanging on the neighbor’s living room walls when I was growing up.
I glanced at the door to make sure it was latched, we wouldn’t want a breeze to come through and blow the woman’s skinny frame over. Her make-up had faded enough to let the dark circles under her eyes show through. Perhaps the rigors of the hike had worn it off.