Such was the case with the wedding Anne was coordinating this particular weekend. Teddy, the bride’s nephew, should have been, if not pushed off the dock, at least left on it. Teddy was four and a bundle of energy. He had the attention span of a gnat and was as spoiled as a child could get. This did not make him a good candidate for ring bearer.
But Teddy was the only child, the only grandchild, the only nephew, the only...everything, and the bride was on board with having him in the wedding party, along with his mother, who seemed completely incapable of controlling him. At the rehearsal he ran up the aisle with the ring pillow, the ribbons with the rings swinging wildly. Positioned on one of the carpeted steps leading up to the podium, he soon became bored with the adult conversation and began to hop up and down the stairs. When he wasn’t doing that, he was trying to look under the bridesmaids’ skirts or making faces at Anne, who was getting things ready for the big day. He finally wore himself out and collapsed on the lowest stair for an impromptu nap, allowing the minister to finish walking the bride and groom through their vows.
“Maybe we can drug him,” muttered his grandfather.
Anne suspected it would take more than drugs to tame Teddy.
The afternoon of the wedding it looked as if someone had, indeed, drugged Teddy...with speed. Or too much sugar. He bounced around the foyer like a kangaroo looking forward to an extra helping of Marmite until his exasperated grandfather finally took him by the arm and growled at him to stand still.
“You walk down the aisle like a gentleman,” Grandpa cautioned just before Teddy’s big moment.
The dose of sternness seemed to work. Or maybe it was stage fright. Whatever the case, Teddy did an admirable job of getting the rings down the aisle.
All right, Anne thought, taking in the scene. So far everything was going according to plan.
The bridesmaids did their stately walk, sophisticated in navy blue dresses accented with red shoes. Then it was time for the father to walk his daughter down the aisle. Anne gave them the cue and sent them on their way, daughter smiling and father teary-eyed.
Anne felt misty-eyed herself, watching them go. There was something about this moment in the wedding ceremony that always got to her. It was such a sweet tradition, the man who had raised the young woman, who’d been there to hear her nighttime prayers and sample her first baking efforts, who had fretted every time she was late coming home from a date, who had, in short, taken care of her and guarded her, now publicly declaring that he was willing to share her love with a new man, to let her start a new chapter in her life.
Anne stayed long enough to see the father kiss his daughter and join her hands with the hands of her groom. Then she went to the fancy old historical home in Seattle where the couple was having their reception to make sure all was in readiness.
She knew it would be. Everything had made it there safely. The cake was standing in place, a lacy tower of elegance, surrounded by tiered plates of cookies shaped like tuxedo-clad hearts; the tables were all set, draped in navy tablecloths and topped with green vases filled with gerbera daisies and ferns, while a giant swan sculpted in ice presided over the buffet table. The caterer was busy setting out the food—appetizer trays with everything from brûléed goat cheese to asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, Caesar salad and pasta salad, crab legs, crusty rolls, teriyaki chicken and rice pilaf. Soon the elegant room would be filled with a new Mr. and Mrs. and all their friends, ready to help them celebrate.
Soon happened in twenty minutes, with families starting to trickle in. Then came some of the younger couples, the women all lovely in heels and party dresses, their guys equally dressed up, their suits a traditional contrast to their piercings, gauges and tats. Two couples were talking and snickering, a sure clue that Teddy had put on a show at the wedding.
Next came the bride’s parents. “Everything looks beautiful,” Greta, the mother of the bride, said to Anne.
Anne murmured her thanks and asked Greta how the ceremony had gone.
“It was lovely,” Greta said, tears in her eyes.
“It would’ve been better if Teddy hadn’t been in it,” her husband muttered.
Greta shrugged. “Little boys.”
Her husband shook his head.
“Teddy went under one of the pews with the rings and my son had to get him out,” Greta explained. “It’ll make a funny wedding story someday.”
“Yes, and it’ll make a funny story when I tie him up and stick him in a corner,” her husband said darkly.
“Now, Theodore,” his wife scolded.
Obviously, Theodore wasn’t happy with his namesake.
“These things do happen,” Anne said. Especially when the Teddys of the world weren’t left on the dock.
“Well, that better be all that happens,” said the bride’s father.
But it wasn’t. Teddy was on a roll. As the guests milled about or found seats at the tables, he darted in and out of the crowd, chasing a little girl with red ringlets. In the process he managed to run into a tall, willowy woman whose height was accentuated by six-inch heels, knocking her off balance. She grabbed for the nearest person, who happened to be another woman in equally high heels, and that woman, too, lost her balance. Down they both went, taking a bowl of Caesar salad with them and sending a tray of teriyaki chicken flying.
This was the final straw for Grandpa, who took off after Teddy. In an effort to escape, the child dived under the elegantly clothed table with the cake and cookies on it. Several people gasped, “Oh, no,” and one of the groomsmen jumped to save the cake, which, thanks to the movement of the tablecloth, was in danger of sliding off the edge. He caught it in time, setting it back in place, and everyone heaved a sigh of relief...until the redheaded girl decided to join the mischief-maker under the table, taking the tablecloth with her, bringing down the cake and sending cookies flying just as Grandpa reached under the table and grabbed Teddy.
There was much howling as Grandpa took the young man to another room for a stern talking-to and the bride saw what had become of her cake.
“Not to worry,” Anne told her. “We’ll fix this.”
“But my cake,” the bride protested.
“I can’t duplicate the cake, but I can make sure you have something.”
And while the caterers cleaned up the mess and Teddy probably got tied up and stuck in a corner, Anne raced to the neighboring chain grocery stores, buying the prettiest layer cake she could find as well as all manner of cupcakes. Forty minutes later, a slightly less elaborate cake sat on the table, surrounded by tiered plates with a selection of cupcakes. Some strategically repositioned candles and flowers added elegance. The rest of the reception went off without a hitch, and after drinking champagne and dancing with her new husband and her doting father, the bride was smiling once more.
“You saved the day,” Greta said to Anne later that evening.
Anne smiled modestly and shook her head. “Even when things don’t go the way you plan, a wedding is always a happy event.”
Laney’s wedding would go perfectly, though. She was going to make sure of that. Thank God they didn’t have a Teddy to mess everything up.
They still had a lot to do to see that everything went smoothly on Laney’s big day, so Anne called her daughter on Monday when she had a few minutes between clients. The call went straight to voice mail and Anne sighed. It was after lunch. Laney would be off work now, and since the sun was out, she was probably running around Green Lake. Anne settled for a text. We need 2 talk. Call me.
She’d just finished conferring with her favorite caterer about food for an upcoming wedding—pulled-pork sliders, savory cupcakes, sushi and a dessert buffet—when Laney checked in. “What’s up, Mom?”
Was it Anne’s imagination or did her daughter sound wary? Maybe Anne’s text had seemed a little...imperious. “Oh, nothing,” she
said airily. “I was thinking we should lock in Primrose Haus for your wedding reception, that’s all,” she rushed on and then held her breath. Please, God, don’t let Drake have talked Laney into Vegas.
There was a moment of silence on the phone that shot Anne’s heart rate up. Finally Laney said, “Okay, let’s do it.”
She seemed hesitant. Suddenly the buzzard of guilt perched on Anne’s shoulders. Way to go, it said. Pressure the poor kid.
Oh, crud. The buzzard was right. She was forcing her daughter to do something she wasn’t excited about.
But Laney had always wanted a fancy wedding, ever since she was a little girl. Deep down, she really did want this and if she settled for something else she’d regret it later.
Still, Anne had to ask, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Laney said.
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Mom. I’m sure. It’ll be great for the reception. I still want to get married on the river, though.”
“Okay.” Hopefully, in a wedding gown. No shorts and bikini top. “Great. Tell you what. Why don’t you come by the office and we can talk about your vision for the wedding.”
“I need to get a shower first. I just finished running.”
Laney loved to run. She’d been on the swim team in high school and had added running to her regimen in college.
She’d tried to convince Anne to take it up, but Anne preferred a brisk walk on the treadmill at the gym or a walk in the snow on a wintry day. She would just have to live without experiencing that mystical runner’s high, because she’d never be caught running unless she was being chased by a bear. And since she didn’t do camping, either, there was no danger of that.
Her daughter loved to tease her about her poor excuse for a sense of adventure. So she didn’t like rock climbing or sleeping in leaky tents. If she was going to enjoy nature, she wanted to do it from the comfort of a cozy, little cabin.
“That’s fine,” she said. “See you whenever you get here.”
Funny how a mother and daughter could have so much in common—a love of parties and romantic comedies and card games—and yet be so different. That wasn’t a bad thing, she reminded herself as she ended the call. Her daughter was her own woman. And that was how it should be. Still, when it came to weddings...
“You’re frowning,” her sister said.
Anne blinked. “What?”
“You’re frowning.” Kendra studied her. “She’s not even here and you’re already worried.”
“No, I’m not,” Anne lied.
“You know, it is her wedding.”
“I know that.”
Kendra raised an eyebrow. “Do you? Really?”
Anne made a face. “Of course I do. The bride always gets the last say.”
She punched in the number for Primrose Haus in Icicle Falls. She’d tell Roberta Gilbert they were definitely a go for that Saturday in June before her daughter could change her mind. This was the right decision, she knew it. Laney would have no regrets.
“We’ll be looking forward to helping you create a wonderful memory,” Roberta said when she and Anne had finished talking business.
A wonderful memory, Anne thought. Yes, that was what this was all about, a wonderful memory for her daughter.
Not just for her daughter, but for everyone who loved her, as well.
“I can hardly wait to see our Laney get married,” her mother had said after the family dinner on Sunday, when it had been the two of them lingering over one last cup of coffee once everyone else had left. “Drake is such a nice boy.”
“Yes, he is,” Anne had agreed.
“It’s the first wedding we’ve had in the family in a long time. And who knows? Maybe there’ll be a baby soon.”
“I don’t think they’re in a hurry for that, Mom. Anyway, they’re young. They’ve got time.” The words had barely left her mouth when Anne realized how false that statement could be. She and Cam had thought they’d had plenty of time to have another. How wrong they’d been.
Laney had ended up being their only child. Fortunately, she was a wonderful kid, but Anne would’ve liked a couple more.
As if reading her mind, her mother had veered away from that verbal path. “Well, we’ll enjoy the wedding. You know,” she’d added, toying with her mug, “we all assume weddings are just about the bride and groom, but so many people get so much out of them. I’m sure you’ve seen that over the years. A wedding gives those of us who are older a chance to share in the couple’s happiness and to relive that special time when we found the person we wanted to spend our lives with. Of course, for the kids it’s a party, but don’t you think it’s also an example?”
“Of what?”
“Of commitment. A wedding, no matter where it is—” Julia had reached out to cover her daughter’s hand with hers “—is a sign of loyalty, of responsibility.” She bit her lip, as if hesitating to continue.
“What?” Anne had prompted.
“I don’t think you understood at the time why I was so upset about your hurried affair. I wonder if you can see now, after having planned so many weddings for so many brides. It’s an important event for the whole community.”
Anne could only nod in agreement. Of course, given the options she’d had at the time, she’d do the same thing all over again. Still, if the situation had been different, if she hadn’t gotten pregnant...
Some things in life you couldn’t redo. But her mother had a point. You could relive. With Laney’s wedding she and Cam could celebrate both their daughter’s union and their own. They’d celebrate love, family and friendship. Yes, her mother was right. A wedding was a big deal for a lot of people.
But mostly for the bride. She could hardly wait until Laney arrived and they could start planning the details of the momentous occasion that lay ahead for all of them.
An hour later Laney was in the office, comfy in jeans and a long, black sweater, accented with one of her necklaces, a silver creation featuring her signature mermaid carrying a silver heart. She and Anne sat at the computer, discussing color themes and decorations, with Kendra tossing in the occasional comment.
“What’s wrong with purple?” Laney asked with a frown.
“Nothing,” Anne said quickly. “It can make for striking decorations.” It also made Anne think of the red-hat ladies and the popular poem about a woman wearing purple when she was old. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being old or wearing purple, but it didn’t seem like the right color for Laney’s wedding.
“Purple might be kind of cool,” Kendra put in.
Who asked her? “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll go with,” Anne said, reminding herself that her daughter got to make the final decision. Still, she wanted to make sure Laney would be happy with it. “Let’s look at some other colors, too, though.”
“Okay, fine,” Laney said irritably. Her phone dinged and she checked it, then spent a moment thumbing a text.
“Who was that?” Anne asked. They were trying to get this wedding planned. Did Laney really need to stop in the middle of their meeting and text someone?
“Autumn. I told her I was coming over here to pick out colors. She’s gonna be my maid of honor.”
Not surprising, considering that they’d been friends since high school.
The phone dinged again.
Oh, great. “Honey, at this rate we’re not going to get anything done,” Anne chided.
“Autumn thinks purple would be ugly.”
Well, then. That decides it.
“We should look at other colors,” Laney said.
Obviously, Autumn’s opinion did decide it. Anne wasn’t sure whether she should be grateful or annoyed. “Tell her we’ll keep her posted,” she said and hoped Autumn would get the message an
d go have a latte.
They checked every imaginable color theme and style from red to pink polka dots. Finally, Laney said she wanted green and brown. All right. Progress. Ten minutes later, they found something new to disagree on. “Why can’t I have balloons?” Laney demanded.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t have balloons,” Anne insisted. “But in all different colors? That’ll look odd.” It made her think of circuses and clowns or state fairs. Might as well throw in some pigs and a Ferris wheel. And what was the point of using different-colored balloons if Laney had picked a specific color scheme? “Anyway, I thought you were going with green and brown.”
“They don’t make balloons in green and brown,” Laney pointed out.
“Somebody must,” Anne said and brought up yet another image on the internet.
“Eew,” said Laney, frowning. “Lime green. That’s gross.”
Yes, lime green wouldn’t work. They’d been talking about forest green. But Anne had an alternative suggestion. “You could have ferns and chocolate mint, and crystal votives on the tables would be gorgeous.”
“But what about the balloons?”
“Honey, we can’t find any in the color you want. You’re going to have to bag the balloons.”
Laney frowned, obviously unhappy with the idea of giving up on balloons.
“The ferns and mint will be pretty. And both you and Drake enjoy the outdoors, so it would be bringing something you love into the wedding theme.”
Her argument produced a thoughtful nod.
“Let’s look at cakes,” Anne said and moved them on to new territory before Laney could argue for a rainbow of balloons again.
They found one on Pinterest—a beautiful green fondant with tasteful brown swirls. “Wow,” Anne breathed.
A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) Page 9