“Abby’s multi-talented,” Celeste said.
She poked her head out the door when she heard the sound of a sledgehammer driving a tent spike into the hard dirt.
“I’d be willing to bet that those guys are skilled at what they’re doing,” Abby said. “You don’t have to supervise.”
“The wind is a little strong today. I hope the tent doesn’t blow away while the guests are eating lunch.”
“Oh, Celeste, such thoughts, and yesterday, you accused me of being a jinx.”
They both laughed. “Howard used to say that people who always expect the worst to happen will somehow make it happen.”
“I don’t think you can make the tent blow away,” Abby said. “Not unless you have some supernatural power that you’ve kept from me.”
“Have a cup of coffee and some breakfast,” Celeste said. “I see that Henrietta has blueberry muffins in the oven. When we were kids, I remember how much you loved blueberries.”
“Oh, wonderful childhood when we didn’t care if blueberries stained our dental work.” Abby poured a cup of coffee and added some flavored creamer. “What time is the wedding supposed to take place?”
“Supposed to…there you go again, Abby,” Celeste said.
Abby’s hand covered her mouth. “Oh, sorry, that was a slip of the tongue.”
The words were barely past her lips when the kitchen phone rang causing Celeste to jump.
Abby shook her head. “So you aren’t nervous a bit.”
Celeste grabbed the phone. “May I help you?”
“This is Beverly Douglas. Could you send two breakfast trays to the honeymoon suite? Emma doesn’t want anyone to see her until the wedding.” She paused before adding, “Bad luck to see the bride and all that nonsense.”
“What would you like on the plates?”
“Do both plates with one scrambled egg, a couple of pieces of bacon, and one piece of toast,” Beverly said. “We’ve already made coffee in the room.”
Celeste scribbled on the notepad by the phone even though it wasn’t too hard to remember a simple order.
“I’ll have it to you in a few minutes,” she said into the phone.
She grabbed two takeout plates, stepped out into the café, and assembled the requested items from the warming trays on the counter. She stuck her head inside the kitchen door.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
When the elevator doors opened onto the fourth floor, she heard the adjacent door to the stairwell slam shut. Trailing in the wake of whoever had taken the stairs was a familiar scent—a high-end men’s cologne that Howard used to wear when they were dating. After they married, he saved it for special occasions. None of the other suites had occupants. Perhaps, it had been Beverly’s husband, Ryan Douglas. She walked to the end of the hall and knocked on the honeymoon suite door.
“Mrs. Adams, you really believe in giving personal service, don’t you?” Emma said as she opened the door.
Please remember to write that on the review you post on my website. Emma had on one of the hotel’s complimentary white bathrobes. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she hadn’t yet applied her make-up. Celeste placed their takeout plates on the table in the suite’s living area.
“How are you doing this morning?” Celeste asked.
“About to lose it,” Emma said. “My dress hasn’t been delivered yet, and it was supposed to be here at seven.”
“Now, don’t panic. It’s only seven-thirty,” the mother in Celeste said. Oh, my God, other than the groom not showing up, this is a bride’s worst nightmare. “Have you tried calling the person who was supposed to deliver it?”
“Yes, and I can’t get an answer. I have two different numbers for her and both go to voicemail. I called Mom and Dad and asked them to go by there. I designed it myself and had it made at Belle’s Custom Formals.”
The company name sounded familiar. Where would I have heard it? Perhaps, Howard and I passed by it the last time we drove through Lenoir.
Celeste pulled the chair out from the table. “Come, sit down, and eat breakfast. You still have plenty of time before the ceremony and your dress might be on its way here as we speak.”
“I didn’t have a wedding dress the first time I married,” Emma said. “My dad said that he’d pay for a dream honeymoon or a big wedding but not both. Dave and I opted for the honeymoon. At our small wedding in my parents’ backyard, I wore the evening gown I’d bought for my sorority graduation dinner. We flew to Hawaii right after the ceremony.”
Emma’s voice quavered on her last words, and Celeste studied the distraught expression on her face. An idea occurred to her.
“What size are you, Emma?”
“Six is my normal dress size.”
“That sounds right,” Celeste said more to herself than to Emma. “If your dress doesn’t get here, I might have a solution for you.”
Emma brightened up. “If you’re telling me that you keep wedding gowns on hand for your guests, I’ll consider you my fairy godmother.”
Celeste grinned. “I’m not a fairy godmother by any means but let me check on something. I’ll see you in a little while. Eat your breakfast and try to relax. Things will work out.”
On the way down, the elevator stopped on the third floor. Roger entered the car clad in a pullover shirt and jeans. I suppose he’s in no hurry to don his formal attire. It had been her experience that men usually didn’t care for getting into formalwear and put it off as long as possible.
“How is the bride this morning?” he asked.
She refrained from telling him that Emma’s wedding gown hadn’t been delivered or that the bride was frantic over it. She also made a mental note of the fact that Roger wasn’t wearing the cologne she’d smelled near the fourth-floor stairs.
“I delivered breakfast to the honeymoon suite,” Celeste said. “And she seemed fine.”
“I hope she’s staying calm. One of my sisters-in-law said that Emma has a heart condition.”
Roger’s revelation concerning Emma’s health made it even more imperative that she find a wedding gown. She had a couple of alternatives in mind.
“How is your father?”
“Unflappable, as always,” he said.
He removed his phone from his pocket to scroll through a list of notifications and didn’t attempt to make any further conversation with her.
In the internet café, Celeste saw Alan and Kylie having breakfast with Wes. She smiled at Alan as she passed the table, but Wes and Kylie seemed too engrossed in conversation to notice anyone walking through the room. She entered the kitchen and found Abby helping Henrietta fill the trays for the buffet table.
“You’re a good person, Abby,” Celeste said.
“Ever since I retired, I feel like a knot on a log,” she said. “I’m always looking for something useful to do.”
“I’m glad you said that because I need help retrieving a box from the top shelf of my guest bedroom closet.”
“What are you up to now, Celeste?”
“You’ll see but first, I’ll take these trays to the buffet before Henrietta fires me.”
On the way to the cottage, Celeste saw that the florist had arrived and was placing the arrangements for the wedding and luncheon. Renee was also on the premises and was busy setting tables under the tent. She’d secured the coverings to the table legs with fabric ties. The florist was using double-sided tape to secure the centerpieces. Abby tapped her shoulder to return her line of vision to the path.
“Don’t worry, Celeste,” she said. “Even if the tent does blow down, I’m sure you won’t have any bad recommendations on Yelp.”
“What is Yelp?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you. You’ll check it obsessively.”
“Okay. Then don’t tell me.”
Celeste slid the closet door to one side. At once, she found herself confronted with the few articles of Howard’s clothing that she’d opted to keep rather than donate to the homeless she
lter. She couldn’t bear to part with the new suit she’d insisting on purchasing for the hotel’s grand opening gala. He’d wanted to wear a black, pinstriped suit that he’d had since Bush’s first term as President—never mind that it no longer fit. I just won’t button the jacket, he’d said. Oh, no, she’d responded. Such an occasion deserves a new suit.
“Celeste?”
Abby’s voice snapped her out of her reverie, and she spotted the silver box on the shelf.
“I’m too short,” she said. “Can you reach that box?”
Abby was at least two inches taller than Celeste, and she was able to reach her fingers around the edge of the box. “I hope this isn’t breakable in case I drop it.”
“No, it’s Amy’s wedding gown. She left it with me for safekeeping.”
“Now, why do you need your daughter’s wedding gown?”
Celeste took the box and placed it on the bed.
“Because our bride-to-be’s dress hasn’t arrived yet, and she’s understandably worried. I thought if I could show her an alternative, it might calm her nerves. She and Amy are close to the same size…well, Amy’s bust might be a little larger. She got her boobs from my side of the family.”
“Oh, but shouldn’t you ask Amy’s permission before you loan her dress to Emma?”
Celeste sighed. “Well, it isn’t as if she’s going to wear it again, but you’re right. I’ll text her.”
She took her phone from her pants pocket and keyed in her daughter’s cell number. How should I word this? “Bride-to-be’s wedding gown is lost,” she spoke aloud as she entered the text. “Can she borrow yours?”
While Celeste awaited Amy’s answer, Abby removed the lid from the box, unzipped the plastic bag inside, and gingerly lifted the garment from its tissue paper wrapping.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said. “In the picture you showed me, I couldn’t see all of this intricate detail in the beading.”
“You’d faint if I told you how much it cost.”
When she’d accompanied Amy to the bridal salon, Celeste had balked at the price of the Lazaro gown that Amy loved. Howard had gone behind her back and given Amy the money to purchase it. All things considered, Celeste was glad he’d done it. Amy’s wedding day had been the last time she would see her father alive.
“The bride should give you a five-star rating on Trivago for going the extra mile for your guests,” Abby said.
She had to hold her response when her phone beeped. “Amy said ‘yes’.”
Celeste replaced the lid on the box and started toward the door with it.
“I hope it fits Emma, but if not, I’ll call the bridal shop in Boone and see if they have a few sample dresses in Emma’s size that they could send over.”
Abby smiled and nodded. “Celeste, a person would be crazy not to stay in your hotel.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I need to get this to Emma before she has a breakdown.”
“I’ll go to the kitchen and help Henrietta clean up,” Abby said.
“My friend, you’re a treasure,” Celeste said.
On the fourth floor, Celeste found Beverly in the hallway talking to someone on her phone. Judging by the woman’s demeanor, the person on the other end must have been delivering bad news. Beverly rushed over to the elevator.
“Mrs. Adams, I don’t know what we’re going to do. That was Dad. He found the lady who was making Emma’s wedding gown at the police station. Someone broke into her shop last night and stole several items—including Emma’s dress. How am I going to tell her?”
Celeste held out the box. “Have her try this on and see if it fits.”
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, it was my daughter’s wedding gown. She was married last year. She and Emma both wear a size six so I hope it will fit. It has cap sleeves and an illusion inset across the bodice so even if it’s loose on top, it won’t fall off.”
Beverly threw an arm around Celeste’s shoulder. “We’ll stuff toilet paper into Emma’s bra if it comes to it. This will certainly soften the blow of losing her gown. Who breaks into a bridal store? That’s just crazy.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Celeste said.
Celeste didn’t wait to see Emma’s reaction. She stepped into the elevator and pushed the lobby button. When the doors opened, she spotted Missy and Jessica coming around the corner from the direction of the café. She stepped aside for them to enter the car. She recalled them making fun of Emma’s wedding dress the previous day. I wonder what they’ll think of the substitution.
“I taped up the signs stating that the deck and pool will be closed until noon today,” Maddie said.
“Thank you. You’re efficient as always,” Celeste said.
“We’re almost fully booked for the fourth of July week,” Maddie said. “And I put a note on your desk from another couple who want to make an appointment to discuss booking a wedding.”
Celeste clapped her hands together. “That’s good news, Maddie. We might just make this place turn a profit, after all.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have no doubt.”
At eleven a.m., Celeste left her office and stood next to Maddie at the reception desk. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Emma and her father when they emerged from the elevator. She wasn’t disappointed. The dress—though a little loose on top as she’d expected—fit well to the rest of Emma’s body. Emma mouthed the words thank you. Celeste couldn’t help feeling that something was missing. Emma’s eyes and expression seemed more resolute than joyful. Where is her bubbly personality that I witnessed at the rehearsal? Perhaps, Emma is thinking about the fact that she’s been to the altar once before and had suffered the tragic loss of her first husband.
She saw the front door open, and Bill entered the lobby with Steve in tow. Bill’s eyes latched on to Emma and followed her until she’d disappeared through the pool access door. He sauntered over to Celeste.
“So the wedding is going as scheduled,” he said.
Her immediate question—why wouldn’t it?—was silenced when something else captured her attention. A strong hint of the same expensive men’s cologne she’d smelled earlier on the fourth floor. Is it a coincidence that Bill is wearing that cologne? It has to be. Lots of men wear it. What would Bill have been doing in the hotel this morning?
“If you can, take a few pictures of the wedding through the conference room windows,” he instructed Steve. “We don’t want to intrude on the ceremony. Then, meet me at the reception tent, and we’ll photograph Renee’s table arrangements for the luncheon.”
“I’m meeting with another couple next weekend,” Celeste said. “And hopefully, they’ll book their wedding for the first weekend in October.”
“Oh, that’s good,” he replied off-the-cuff without looking at her.
My goodness, he seems distracted today.
“Anyway, I thought you’d be pleased that the ads you placed for me are paying off,” she said.
The elevator doors opened again, and Kylie stepped out—late for the wedding and wearing a drab, black dress that seemed more suited to a funeral than a wedding. What kind of statement is she trying to make? For once, she didn’t have her phone glued to her hand. Kylie’s high heels clicked on the hardwood floor while she crossed the lobby to the exit. She gave Bill a wide-eyed glance as if she was surprised to see him. With his back to Celeste, she couldn’t see the look he’d given Kylie in return. Do they know one another? Bill walked down the hallway past the restrooms and the gym. Ignoring the employees-only sign as if he owned the place, he pushed through the secondary kitchen doors at the end of the hall.
Celeste went into the conference room to watch the ceremony. Very few of the guests had come inside the hotel. The majority of them had followed the signs placed by the wedding planner along the walkway that directed them from the parking lot to the side lawn. Hopefully, the hotel’s exterior would make a good impression on those that didn’t venture inside.
Howard had replaced
the weather-beaten cedar siding with a realistic-looking, stone veneer. He had removed the cement sidewalks around the hotel and replaced them with weather-resistant, simulated wood material. Three months before the accident that killed him, Howard completed the addition of a new pool and large deck outside the conference room. He’d been so proud of it, and he hardly had any time to enjoy it.
A string quartet played a familiar wedding song accompanied by a gifted vocalist. Celeste’s vision traveled to the peaks of the mountain she and Howard loved. Tears dampened her eyelids. The nape of her neck tingled, and she felt pressure on her shoulder as if someone had laid his or her hand on it. Her head snapped around. Of course, no one is here. I’m alone.
The pronouncement came after the song, and the ceremony ended. The new Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle recessed up the aisle to the hotel along with the wedding party and photographer. The guests milled around and conversed with each other for a while before making their way across the lawn to the reception tent. Celeste returned to the lobby and found the photographer taking pictures of Wes and Emma in front of the mural.
“Mr. Adams would love that,” Maddie whispered to her.
Unable to answer for the lump in her throat, Celeste nodded in agreement. After the photographer had directed the group to go outside, Celeste perched on the stool next to Maddie.
“Why would a thief break into a formalwear shop and steal wedding gowns?” she asked.
Maddie cocked her head toward Celeste. “Why do you ask?”
“The gown that Emma is wearing belonged to my daughter,” Celeste said. “Emma’s dress was stolen last night along with some other items from Belle’s Custom Formals in Lenoir.”
“How awful,” Maddie said. “Well, they’d either resell them online or transport them across the country to be resold in another location.”
Maddie’s knowledge concerning fencing stolen goods didn’t surprise Celeste. Her college major was in criminal justice.
“I’ve been told that this was a one-of-a-kind gown so it should be easy to catch the thief if he or she tries to sell it online,” Celeste said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Maddie said. “I’m sure the police are already on it. It was lucky for Mrs. Carlyle that you had your daughter’s gown and that they were the same size. I’d say that she has a guardian angel.”
Mrs. Carlyle's Second Honeymoon Page 4