Mrs. Carlyle's Second Honeymoon

by L. K. Campbell

  Two of the Carlyle couples sat at tables they’d pushed together. They’d changed into dressy clothing for the rehearsal that would take place an hour later. One thing Celeste prided herself on was her memory for names and faces. Tom and Roger sat on one side facing their wives Missy and Jessica. Another hotel guest who wasn’t associated with the wedding sat in the opposite corner of the room holding a tablet in one hand and coffee in the other.

  Celeste checked the cappuccino machine. Sure enough, the sensor on the water reservoir hadn’t engaged. She had it working in a moment.

  “The cappuccino machine is ready now,” she said in a loud enough voice for everyone to hear her.

  No one acknowledged her. The guest in the corner still had his head down. She reached under the counter and pulled some disinfectant wipes from the dispenser to clean coffee spills off the counter.

  “I hope the meal tonight isn’t too heavy,” she heard Missy say. “I worked hard to lose ten pounds so I can fit into the dress I’m wearing tomorrow.”

  “We have a new supplement at the health store,” Jessica said. “It’s supposed to take off five pounds the first week you start using it.”

  Celeste glanced at the two women. In her sleeveless, silk dress, Missy seemed to lack the muscle definition of a healthy body. Celeste had seen her groundskeeper pick up twigs that were larger than Missy’s upper arms. Why does she need to take supplements to lose weight? I hope she doesn’t have an eating disorder.

  “I wonder how long it will take Emma to buy an insurance policy on your dad,” Jessica said. “Didn’t she collect half a million from her first husband’s death?”

  “Jessica, don’t bring that up,” Roger said.

  “I’m just saying,” she said.

  “I prepared a pre-nup, but Dad refused to ask her to sign it,” Tom said.

  “She latched on to your dad not even six months after her husband’s accident,” Missy said.

  “And after she collected the insurance money, she quit her job with that PR firm. Now, she just sits around writing romance novels and posting selfies all over social media,” Jessica said.

  “Well, we can thank Kylie for introducing her to Papa Wes,” Missy said.

  Roger’s palm came down against the table causing the guest in the corner to take notice of them.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Dad is a grown man and presumably, we are, too.”

  While Celeste didn’t desire to remarry, she hoped that if she should change her mind, her children would be kinder and more generous than this lot. She pulled a fresh trashcan liner from under the cabinet and removed the old one from the wastebasket. So Emma’s first husband was killed in some kind of accident. At once, she felt a kinship to the younger woman. I do hope this wedding goes smoothly without incident.

  She entered the kitchen, and Renee approached her.

  “Were you able to fix the cappuccino machine?” she asked. “I told them that I’m not an employee here and didn’t want to mess up anything.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s just temperamental. My late husband bought it secondhand from a coffee shop downtown that was going out of business. They swore it was like new, but I think it was like new several years ago.”

  Renee grinned. “I’ve bought a few things like that, too. Thank you again for saving my neck today.”

  “I was glad to do it. If anyone needs me, I made sure to put my phone in my pocket this time.”

  She went outside to throw the trash in the dumpster and walked around the side of the building when she saw Emma and Wes standing on the spot where they would be married the next day. They faced the mountain with their arms linked. Emma’s head rested on his shoulder. Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. I remember the time we stood there, Howard. That view was what sealed the deal for us on buying this hotel. I hope I can make you proud. In her mind, his voice answered, you always did.

  As she walked to the kitchen door, she saw Bill Matthews parking his black SUV in the staff parking area. He had the same photographer with him who had taken the photos for her website. She approached them.

  “Did I forget an appointment with you?” she asked.

  “No, I’m here for another client, Renee Jenkins,” he said. “I understand that there was an unfortunate utility problem in town, and she came here to use your kitchen.”

  “Yes, she’s here.”

  “We’re creating a new gallery for her website,” Bill said to Celeste.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “While I speak with Renee, will you show Steve to the party room, Celeste? I want him to get some shots of how Renee has the room arranged.”

  “Sure.” I’m glad I dusted the light fixtures.

  The buffet tables were set up at the end of the room closest to the lobby. Renee had placed the dining tables in a t-shape and covered each with an ivory, linen tablecloth. A floral centerpiece and flameless candle adorned each one.

  On a small, round table at the center of the room, Celeste took notice of a large, one-layer cake decorated to resemble a golf course complete with a golfer figurine. Ah, the groom’s cake. Wes Carlyle must be a golfing enthusiast. Howard had never been interested in the sport. He’d been a football player in college, and he was more into hunting and fishing later in life.

  After Steve took several shots, they went through the internet café where Emma and Wes had joined his sons and daughters-in-law. Emma’s yellow shift dress suited her trim figure. Bill appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Celeste caught sight of the glance between Emma and Bill as if they knew one another but didn’t want to advertise it. She kept walking toward the kitchen with Steve.

  “Mrs. Adams literally saved my bacon today,” Renee said to Bill.

  He glanced around the room. “This kitchen is outdated, but I suppose it will do in a pinch.”

  Normally, Celeste would let minor criticisms slide off of her, but something in his tone of voice crawled under her skin.

  “We never planned to re-open a full-service restaurant,” she said. “And it’s adequate for the one-meal-a-day that we prepare.”

  “And for me today,” Renee added.

  “I meant no offense, Celeste,” Bill said. “I simply meant that with the remainder of the hotel renovated so beautifully, you wouldn’t want the kitchen to detract from it.”

  “There is an employees-only sign on the door,” she said. “And we do keep it clean to health department standards.”

  She pointed to their Grade A certificate. He tightened his lips and squinted at her.

  She smiled. “I’ve apprised you of my financial situation. Right now, money has to be allocated where it’s needed most.”

  Bill nodded. “You’re right but give it some thought for the future. I have a list of other tweaks for the hotel that I want to go over with you next week.”

  Tweaks? What kind of tweaks? He’d already turned his back on her so she didn’t pursue the conversation with him.

  Renee loaded several dishes containing both light and heavy hors d’oeuvres onto a rolling cart.

  “They should be starting the rehearsal in thirty minutes. As soon as they leave to go outside, we’ll take these into the party room,” she said to her assistant. “Mrs. Olson informed me that Mr. Carlyle is diabetic and needs to have something substantial to munch on during the cocktail hour before we serve dinner.”

  Celeste recalled the cake she’d seen. I wonder if it’s sugar-free. She stayed behind in the kitchen while Bill and Steve followed Renee to the party room. This kitchen doesn’t look bad. Sure, it has fluorescent lights, laminated countertops, and a popcorn ceiling, but it isn’t as if guests will be traversing through here.

  She walked outside to sneak a peek at the rehearsal. The wedding party had begun to take their places on their designated spots. Emma had donned dark sunglasses. On the western side of the hotel, the sun could be harsh on the eyes in the late afternoon as it dropped closer to the mountain peak. In the morning hours, th
e sun would be behind them. Emma seemed as cheerful and chatty as she’d been when Celeste met her at the door earlier in the afternoon. She remembered Jessica saying that very little time had elapsed since Emma’s first husband’s death. I couldn’t imagine allowing less than a year to pass before falling in love again, but then, I’m older—much older than Emma is.

  Emma had four bridesmaids in addition to her sister as matron of honor. The attendants exhibited a strong family resemblance. They had the same coloring as Emma, which prompted Celeste to wonder if they were nieces of the bride—perhaps even daughters considering that Emma had a previous marriage.

  On the groom’s side, Roger was his father’s best man. He must be the eldest son. He looks more mature than the other two. A man she didn't recognize stood beside Tom and Alan. That must be Emma’s brother, Nathan. An older couple sat in the cabana next to the pool. Could that be Emma’s parents? Celeste would guess that they were both in their seventies—old enough to be Emma’s parents but not the groom’s. With Wes being in his sixties, she wondered if his parents were still living. Both hers and Howard’s parents had passed away. One of the most difficult times in their marriage had been helping one another through the grief of losing their parents. It seemed to happen in rapid succession within a few years—first his father, then my mother, and so on. The grief had threatened to overwhelm her. She had no idea that she’d be going through that dark valley again less than ten years later.

  The three Carlyle wives had gathered on the deck. Missy and Jessica whispered to one another while covering their faces with what looked like wedding programs. Obviously, they don’t want their lips read. Kylie still had her head down, working her phone with her thumbs in the same way Celeste had seen children do while playing some bubble-popper game. Maybe, she needs to be plugged in at all times. Celeste remembered hearing news reporters at the television station use that terminology.

  She recalled overhearing that Kylie worked for her father-in-law. Charlotte can be an expensive, highly competitive real estate market. Celeste wondered if Wes was a stern taskmaster underneath the genial countenance he’d shown to her the previous day. Celeste had heard Missy saying that Kylie had introduced Emma to Wes. For the two women to be friends, Celeste hadn’t seen Kylie give much attention to Emma.

  Everyone went through the motions of acting out the wedding. The older gentleman rose from his seat in the pool cabana. He took Emma’s arm and escorted her to the wedding planner’s place marker. The minister did a quick run-through of how the ceremony would go. Then, the wedding planner gave the order of how each member of the wedding party would recess down the aisle and return to the hotel through the deck entrance.

  As the group broke up and moved inside the hotel, Celeste returned to the kitchen where Bill and Renee seemed to be deep into a serious discussion. She coughed to get their attention.

  “I was watching the rehearsal,” she said. “They’re coming in now.”

  “Good,” Renee said. “We finished in the party room just in time. Let’s take some pics of the dinner dishes, Bill.”

  Bill grimaced at the dark brown, laminated dining table with its lemon-yellow padded chairs.

  “Can we move those chairs away and throw a tablecloth over the table?” Steve asked, seeming to read Bill’s thoughts.

  The dinette set was probably made before Steve was born. She and Howard had kept this one set from the restaurant, and they donated the remainder of the tables and chairs to charity. Celeste moved the chairs while Renee retrieved a tablecloth from a box of linens that she’d brought with her. Since Renee’s employees were busy serving cocktails in the party room, Celeste helped her move the dishes she wanted to be photographed to the table.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Bill slipping into the café. Her nosy nature wanted to peek through the small, round window on the door. Her better nature decided not to spy on the man. He’s probably checking to make sure everything is going well in the party room. His detail-oriented approach to public relations had been one of the reasons she’d hired him, even if she did find it a little maddening.

  When she saw Bill again, he was dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a cocktail napkin—not one of the silver embossed napkins Renee had supplied. It was one of the plain napkins she kept by the coffee makers in the café. Celeste caught sight of a shiny, mauve substance covering the paper before he balled it in his fist and tossed it into the trashcan. Was that lipstick on the napkin?

  “I should have all I need,” Steve said to Renee. “I’ll put together some layouts for your approval before we load them onto your website.”

  “We should post a few of the pictures you took of the party room onto the hotel website, as well,” Bill said. “We want prospective guests to see everything that the hotel has to offer.”

  He’d given Celeste a pointed look as his last statement trailed off.

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  Bill and Steve exited the outside kitchen door, and she watched through the windows as they followed the path around to the parking lot.

  “Bill is a nice guy but sometimes he doesn’t realize how he comes across,” Renee said.

  Celeste laughed beneath her breath. Obviously, Renee had caught onto that moment of tension when Bill had critiqued the kitchen.

  “He’s doing a good job with the advertising and the website,” Celeste said. “But I don’t think he understands how difficult it is to finance a hotel.”

  “Or a catering business,” Renee added. “He’s pushing me to rent a vacant building in downtown Blowing Rock and run a restaurant. It’s a nice dream, I’ll grant him that, but there are times when I’m down to counting pennies if you know what I’m saying.”

  Oh, yes, the penny jar. A long-ago memory surfaced from when she and Howard were first married, and they kept a large jar for depositing their small change. For a time, it was their only savings account. Later on, they’d come into some tough times when Howard had been laid off for a few months. They’d spent one evening rolling pennies to deposit in the bank the next morning and keep a check from bouncing.

  “The lobster and prime rib look delicious,” Celeste said. “That’s pricy for a rehearsal dinner.”

  “Mr. Carlyle can afford it,” she said. “From what I was told, he owns a real estate development company in Charlotte. He’s footing the bill for the whole wedding.”

  Celeste’s thoughts returned to the chat she’d overheard between Missy and Jessica. Perhaps, the money Wes was spending on the wedding brought up a bone of contention with his daughters-in-law. One of his sons had drawn up a pre-nuptial agreement that Wes had refused to present to Emma. Money has a way of destroying family relationships. That’s one good thing about not having much of it.

  “Hopefully, that water main has been repaired, and I won’t have to impose on you in the morning,” Renee said.

  “It’s not an imposition. My cook and I will start preparing the breakfast buffet at seven a.m. but we’re usually done and have the kitchen all cleaned by nine if you need it for a staging area.”

  “I have a crew coming to erect a tent in the morning. Where do you suggest we put it?”

  “I would place it on this side of the pool,” Celeste said. “Because you don’t want it too close to the front of the hotel or the road. We don’t have heavy traffic but the occasional loud vehicle does go by.”

  Renee grinned. “Yes, that’s exactly what I told Bill. He wanted high visibility, but I told him that this is a wedding luncheon—not a circus tent.”

  Celeste laughed at the comparison she’d made.

  “There’s more shade on this side and the sound of the running creek might make it more romantic.”

  Her thoughts drifted to the times she and Howard had spent sitting on the porch of their cottage, listening to the water splash onto the small boulders. Celeste checked her watch.

  “Well, you’ll be serving dinner soon. I’ll leave you to your work.”

  As much a
s she was tempted to spy on the rehearsal guests, she resisted. They’re in Renee’s capable hands. Nothing can go wrong.

  Chapter 4

  The clock buzzed and flashed the time. Oh, no. It’s six-thirty. Celeste turned over in bed and moaned at the dull ache that kept ping-ponging back forth between her right hip and knee. Too many trips up and down the step ladder yesterday. The pain will be worth it if it pays off in good reviews and repeat business.

  When she sat up, she remembered dreaming that Bill Matthews was having an affair with Jessica Carlyle and had murdered Roger by poisoning his drink with arsenic. Of all the crazy dreams. She’d had Bill on her mind following her conversation with Renee. She couldn’t argue with the results of his PR campaign, so far, but Bill had some qualities that rubbed her the wrong way. But to dream that he was a murderer?

  Despite her aches and pains, she had no time to linger under the shower’s hot spray. She jumped in and out and snatched something presentable from her closet. She paired navy slacks with a pink blouse. A quick pat of face powder, a swipe of lipstick, and she was ready for the day. As she trotted to the hotel, she saw a delivery van arrive and park close to the kitchen door. Two men emerged and opened the vehicle’s rear doors. It must be the tent for the reception. She noticed that Renee had used orange flags to show where she wanted the tent placed.

  Celeste bid the men good morning before entering the kitchen. Inside, she found Abby waiting for her. Her friend knew her usual schedule and that she should be in the kitchen at that hour of the morning.

  “Good morning, Celeste. I came by to see how you’re faring.”

  “I’d be doing better if I hadn’t overslept,” she said. “Sorry I’m late, Henrietta.”

  The older woman smiled. “I’ll forgive you this time. I had a good helper here. Mrs. Benson set the buffet table.”