Sweetheart Deal

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Sweetheart Deal Page 4

by Linda Joffe Hull


  10. Another advantage of utilizing a wedding planner—the bride and groom get to focus on each other and no one else (the made-for-tv matron of honor, for example) is forced to take on the bossy bad guy organizational job.

  11. Many of the customs we associate with a stateside wedding translate to foreign locations, but not all. Flexibility about traditions—like a groom’s cake made of fruit and at the rehearsal dinner instead of the reception—is key.

  12. Instead of the usual pearl earrings for the bridesmaids and monogrammed flasks for the guys, a destination wedding can provide the unique opportunity of the gift of sightseeing or an outdoor experience for your attendants, often at discounted group rates.

  four

  I spent most of the night plucking proverbial daisies: Maybe Alejandro meant to address the note to both of us. Maybe it was a Freudian slip that only my name was on the front of the envelope. Perhaps he sent notes to all potential-but-reluctant timeshare owners inviting them for a cocktail and ours had somehow slipped beneath the pillow.

  I tossed, turned, and finally dozed off, but I woke up again not long after the first rays of sun glinted off the ocean. I glanced over at Frank, now snoring softly in his familiar (though no longer endearing) snort-puh pattern. Too keyed up to go back to sleep myself, I tiptoed out of the bedroom for a cup of tea and a peek at the day’s call sheet.

  My very full schedule started with 8:30 a.m.: Yoga and was broken down in a seemingly endless list of pre-, during, and postwedding shots, including everything from Discussion of discount table centerpiece options to Teary-eyed toast. My eyes were drawn to the bottom of the sheet, where I couldn’t help but note that the last entry of the day was 8:30 p.m.: Dance with Frank.

  As in, just in time to make it to an engagement at, oh, 9 p.m. at the Poolside Bar?

  Frank woke soon after I did and immediately left for his 8:15: Massage with fellow groomsmen. The kids set off to the beach, and I headed down the hall toward my first task of the day.

  “You need more towels, Señora Frugalicious?” Zelda, the floor manager, offered when I found her in the housekeeping supply room

  “I’m good, thanks.” I smiled back. “But I do have a question: Did you or someone on your staff happen to deliver a note to my room last evening?”

  Zelda nodded. “Sí, Señora.”

  “I found it in the weirdest spot.”

  “Under la almohada?” she asked, then thought for a moment. “The pillow?”

  “Yes,” I said, my heart suddenly thumping.

  She smiled. “I always do what Señor Alejandro tell me to do.”

  “Joe-gah,” said the attractive, raven-haired, spandex-clad yoga instructor, “is jour oasis of peace, tranquility, and calm.”

  With the camera trained on her from the rearview of my sorry excuse for a Downward Dog, I couldn’t say I entirely agreed.

  “Breathe deep, relax, and clear jour cluttered mind …”

  Having left housekeeping with a fresh piece of stationary, an envelope, a complimentary pen, and the knowledge that Alejandro had specifically asked that the note be placed under my pillow, I somehow couldn’t manage a single breath that could be called relaxing.

  And there was no clearing my hoarder’s paradise of a mind.

  Alejandro had to be trying out some kind of high-level sales technique on me. What other reason could there be for an extremely handsome man who could have practically anyone he wanted to pursue a woman on vacation with her loving spouse? That was, unless he really was attracted to me, sensed there were plot holes in the Frugalicious happily ever after, and just decided to go for it. After all, it was no secret that Frank and I had weathered our fair share of marital woes. And, given the high-profile nature of our careers and the murders I’d been involved in solving, the details of our lives were easily available to anyone who was curious enough to type Mrs. Frugalicious into their browser. Still, Alejandro was bold, unbelievably so, to have a note delivered to the room of a very married woman, asking her to meet him for a drink.

  The fact he’d actually gone ahead and done it sent an involuntary and not entirely unpleasant shudder through me.

  It wasn’t until the shoot finished with me rolling up my yoga mat and offering a few tips about vacation exercise classes13 that I began to feel ever so slightly Zen. While I couldn’t possibly meet up with Alejandro, I couldn’t help but fantasize, if just for a moment, about returning someday for a sun-and-fun week in his tall, dark, and handsome company.

  Instead of heading directly to the spa locker room for a shower before I was due in makeup and hair, I took a quick detour to the vacation ownership office and, with a touch of regret, slid a short note of my own in the mail slot for Alejandro:

  Chances are slim, I’m afraid.

  “Look who’s glowing almost as much as our bride,” Geo said, joining me in the spa lobby.

  “I must be flushed from yoga,” I said, thankful our makeup artist was busily brushing finishing powder on my once-again warm cheeks. “Haven’t done it in a while.”

  “You should,” he said, with an uncharacteristic smile. “It clearly agrees with you.”

  Despite somewhat mixed emotions about nipping the Alejandro situation in the bud, I couldn’t help but agree that the attention put a little extra spring in my step. A spring I needed for the next few hours posed in front of various locations, discussing overall costs:

  Destination weddings are a great deal for the bride and groom, who will save on just about everything including the final tab since many guests send a gift instead of making what they assume will be a costly trip.

  And the nuts and bolts of planning:

  While the best specials and discounts for destinations are during off-peak seasons, it’s a good idea to look into less-traveled U.S. holiday weekends like Mother’s Day, Fourth of July, and Halloween, when resorts, especially in the Caribbean, tend to offer some great deals.

  I did an overview of floral options at various price points to highlight that less was often more when Mother Nature was handling the bulk of the decorating: Even though you’ll need bouquets for the bridal party and perhaps a few accents, there’s no need for a big floral budget when you get married in a scenic locale. If you’re flexible and allow the florist to use local blooms instead of expensive imported flowers and consider less-expensive centerpieces like shells and sand or tropical fruit centerpieces, you’ll not only save, but stun your guests with natural beauty.

  I even sampled the evening’s fare ahead of the actual reception: A $30,000 stateside wedding for a hundred guests in a major city would likely include a plated chicken or fish meal, a limited open bar, a serviceable DJ, and standard wedding cake. Here at the Hacienda de la Fortuna, the same money gets you a multicourse feast, Mariachi band, tequila tasting at the open bar, and late-night dessert bar.

  By the time I’d finished, it was time to meet up with the other bridesmaids for Makeup, hair, and pre-ceremony bonding with the bride.

  “All you’ll need to do is read off the cue cards while the hotel stylists get the other bridesmaids ready,” Geo said as I changed out of my raspberry satin, halter-style bridesmaid’s dress and back into a fluffy white hotel-issue robe to pretend I was getting ready along with my fellow bridesmaids in the salon.

  As Family Frugalicious hair and makeup people finished touching me up and headed into the bride’s room to start on Anastasia, Geo handed me a photo of a pretty model with the very same flattering up-do I was sporting, complete with curly loose tendrils. “Hold this up to your face on my cue.”

  “Great,” I said, following him into the salon to greet the bridesmaids—Body in a massage chair soaking her feet and hands in preparation for a mani-pedi, Hair in a stylist’s chair in front of a large mirror, and Face beside a big makeup kit with the Hacienda de la Fortuna roulette wheel emblazoned on the side.

  After our hellos, the manicurist took a seat on her low stool and Geo pointed me to my mark.

  The camera b
egan to roll:

  “While having your bridesmaids do their own hair, makeup, and nails is obviously the most cost-effective way to primp for a wedding, most brides prefer to have a professional on hand for the big day.” I paused while the camera zoomed in on the hotel hairdresser, who’d begun to run her to fingers through Hair’s lovely honey blond tresses. “The thing is, hair and makeup can be a tricky proposition when you’re talking destination weddings. Assuming you don’t have a trusted stylist who would love a free trip in exchange for glamming up the wedding party, you will likely be using a local referred by your wedding planner.”

  Geo gave me a thumbs up as I continued.

  “If so, be sure to check references from other brides, try to meet with whomever you’re planning to hire for your event beforehand, and, ideally, bring along a visual of what you want to look like on your wedding day.”

  As I held up the photo of my hairstyle, a curvaceous little woman in sausage-tight leggings came tottering past me. There was no missing that she’d coordinated her heavy eye shadow with her aquamarine pants and her lipstick with the fuchsia flowers dotting her top.

  “Hola,” she said, stopping beside Face and extending her hand. “I do your makeup.”

  “Okay …” Face said, returning her handshake and looking anything but okay.

  “How you like?” the makeup artist asked.

  “As subtle as possible?” Face asked, pleadingly.

  Hair looked equally nervous as her stylist began to tease the back of her hair. “Me too,” Hair added.

  “Sí,” one woman said.

  The other nodded with seeming nonrecognition.

  As the camera zeroed in on the four sisters, I stepped over to Geo. “Do you think they know what they’re doing?”

  Geo smirked. “Depends on your definition of subtle.”

  The makeup woman clicked open a case, pulled out what looked like a putty knife, and set to work on Face, who now looked downright petrified.

  Along with her sisters.

  “And action!” Geo announced.

  Face clasped her hands as if in prayer and closed her eyes.

  Out of the corner of mine, I noticed Jorge the concierge standing silently in the doorway of the salon. My resident butterflies began to flutter as he waved a peach envelope in my direction.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed silently as I stepped over and accepted the note.

  “De nada,” he whispered.

  Suspecting otherwise, I followed him out to the spa lobby, waited for him to head back down the hallway, opened the envelope, and read Alejandro’s response:

  Don’t be afraid.

  I wasn’t exactly afraid, nor was I entirely surprised by Alejandro’s persistence. After all, tip number five on the timeshare handout Geo had given me told viewers to expect them to keep offering deals too good to turn down,14 to which I was to keep repeating I’m not sure and we’re just not ready. The scenario seemed to apply to both timeshares and forbidden romance.

  Face, however, was terrified.

  Not to mention, terrifying.

  “OMG!” she said, opening her eyes to lids and lips that had been colored raspberry to match her bridesmaid’s dress. She began to wave her hands. “Rojo? Nada! No!”

  The camera stopped rolling, the makeup lady was led away, and Face launched into a teary OTF15 about looking like a streetwalker for her sister’s wedding.

  “How bad is it?” a Family Frugalicious staff makeup artist asked, appearing beside me.

  Before I could respond, she’d not only taken a peek and answered her own question, but was rushing in to offer assistance.

  Luckily Face only had to suffer through two teary takes before being restored back to her beautiful self.

  For the next two and a half hours, I was so immersed in shooting segments related to destination wedding prep that I gave little thought to much of anything beyond the “surprise” lunch delivered by Chef Benito, the seamstress who had to be brought in posthaste to repair a torn seam near the zipper of Anastasia’s vintage designer dress,16 and the teary moment when Anastasia’s parents entered the bride’s room and saw their stunning daughter in her wedding finery. It wasn’t until my own personal 2:30 p.m.: Matron of honor bonding moment with bride that I had time to consider how staged certain moments of the day felt.

  As we hugged and Anastasia thanked me profusely for coming up with the idea of a destination wedding (even though she had) and working so hard to make it so surprisingly affordable (also her doing), I found myself wondering how Alejandro could have known I would be the one to actually find the note he’d put under my pillow in the first place.

  It wasn’t hard for housekeeping to figure out who planned to sleep on which side of the bed—Frank had his prescription on his nightstand and I had placed a tube of hand cream and a magazine with an article about couponing on mine. But how could anyone be sure Frank wouldn’t turn down the covers first? Frank, who’d be obligated to at least threaten to beat the daylights out of anyone who dared to leave such a note for his wife?

  Maybe I was a little more flirtatious than I should have been, and maybe Alejandro was a lot more forward than your run-of-the-mill ladies man, but, somehow, it didn’t seem likely that he could he really be so immediately lovestruck.

  Or stupid …

  Then again, this show was centered on us as a wholesome, frugal family, and this episode in particular was about the blissful, blessed sanctity of marriage. It was one thing for the show’s handlers to mess with a little makeup or even a dress seam to make a point; a secret cheating subplot written in by someone to spice things up didn’t make sense.

  Not demographically, anyway.

  Still, I wasn’t keen on watching an upcoming episode filled with Frankenbites17 of me looking like I’d fallen victim to Alejandro’s not-at-all uncertain charms while poor born-again-innocent Frank looked on helplessly.

  I grabbed a pen that had been conveniently left on a table outside the salon, scrawled a message of my own on the backside of the note, and headed down the hall before the ceremony started to give it to the concierge to return to Alejandro:

  I’m afraid that I’m a happily married woman.

  Given the show was less about the wedding “reveal,” and more a how-to about putting on a discount destination wedding, there was only one lovely, stunningly scenic, tear-rending take of the ceremony itself. Everyone flawlessly executed their parts, from Elena giving last-minute directives to the bridal party strolling in perfect time with the harpist’s strums. Even the seabirds somehow cawed more softly and the turquoise waves lapped especially gently in the background.

  As Anastasia, gorgeous and resplendent, strolled down the aisle on the arm of her father and joined Philip beneath the altar festooned with locally sourced flowers, love infused the light breeze. With all teary eyes trained on the clearly besotted couple, I felt much less like the de facto maid of honor in a reality show spectacle and a lot more like a costar in a magical, romantic movie.

  By the time the minister announced Philip and Anastasia as husband and wife and invited them to share a kiss, I’d even begun to believe in the potential sanctity of marriage once again. So much so that as I walked down the aisle on Frank’s arm, I felt, for the first time, as if our strained and tenuous balance as faux spouses could actually give way to a successful on-screen partnership as Mr. and Mrs. Frugalicious.

  My tranquility continued through the pictures and into cocktail hour. And it might have lasted through the evening had I not spotted Ivan the activities director, whose current number-one activity seemed to be courting Eloise. He smiled and she waved me over to where the two of them stood beside a palm tree at the edge of the veranda outside of the dining area.

  “Ivan just told me there are going to be fireworks later on tonight down at the beach,” Eloise said.

  “We have a pyrotechnics expert on staff that does them the first weekend of every month,” Ivan said, as if to explain that the fireworks were not just
of the romantic variety.

  “It’s okay if I go,” Eloise asked, looking moony-eyed, “right?”

  “As long as the reception is over and Geo doesn’t need you or us for anything.”

  “It won’t start until dark,” Ivan said.

  “And there’s nothing on my call sheet after eight p.m.,” Eloise added.

  “Then great,” I said. “But don’t stay out too late. We’ll probably have an early call in the morning.”

  “So we’re getting the timeshare, aren’t we?” Eloise asked, smiling at Ivan.

  Bothered that I hadn’t researched as much as I’d have liked to, but promising myself I’d provide the Frugarmy with a thoroughly researched blog before the episode aired, I nodded.

  “Yay!” Eloise said, throwing her arms around me. “I love this place!”

  “Which reminds me …” Ivan said.

  My heart skipped a beat once again as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed peach-colored envelope.

  “Alejandro told me to give this to you.”

  “Frank?” I whispered as we finished shooting our 5:00 p.m.: Stolen postwedding kiss. “Have you ever mentioned anything, even in passing, to anyone about our marital situation?”

  “Course not,” he said. “Why?”

  The truth wasn’t a particularly sensible option at the moment: That note last night was actually from Alejandro wanting to have drinks with me. Which leads me to wonder if …?

  “No reason, really,” I said, hastily concocting a white lie and thinking about the contents of his most recent note: It’s just a drink …“It’s just that I overheard someone on the crew saying something about a marriage of convenience or something and I was a little concerned they might be talking about us.”

  “As though our situation is convenient?”

  “Good point,” I said, and proceeded to play dutiful matron of honor and loving wife to the best man through dinner and a seemingly endless round of toasts.

 

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