Diary of an Engaged Wedding Planner (Tales Behind the Veils Book 3)

by Howe, Violet

  I used the hotel’s land lines to try and reach the florist, officiant, violinist and pastry chef. Reverend Markham had never lost power or cable and was planning to be on time. The florist had a huge tree down across her street, which had pulled several utility lines down with it. The police and fire rescue had blocked off the area from both directions, so she was basically trapped at home. I kept getting the busy message with the violinist, and the pastry chef said she had no power and had been storing all the cakes in her refrigerated truck, but was uncertain how deliveries were going to go with unknown road conditions. The cake would get delivered eventually, but no guarantee as to when.

  Amazingly, Katerina never batted an eye at any of it. No flowers? No problem. No violinist? No problem. Possibly no cake? No problem. No garden ceremony? Who needs it.

  “Thank you so much for taking this so well,” I told her as we walked to the new ceremony site. “I can’t imagine how I would feel in your shoes, and I really appreciate you being so easy to work with.”

  “Tyler, there may be people who lost their lives last night, or their family members, or their homes. We are all here. Together and safe. Gottfried and I will be married. We will celebrate. The rest of it is just details. It doesn’t matter.”

  I smiled at her, relieved at her attitude and wishing beyond all wishes that I could repay her kindness with something magnificent. My hands were tied, though. A state of emergency surrounded us, so there was very little I could do to go above and beyond.

  Mike and his staff came through in a big way by procuring some fresh floral from hotel arrangements for a makeshift bouquet, and the chef in the main restaurant offered to bake a cake as back-up. They moved in greenery from all over the hotel to create a lush backdrop for the ceremony in a richly-appointed lounge area. It was a splendid room with velvet curtains and an expanse of windows overlooking the pool. The hotel even rigged up an MP3 connection so we could play music for the ceremony based on what Katerina and Gottfried had chosen.

  It was amazing to see everyone pull together to make it happen, especially since most of the staff had been there all night on ride-out crew and had yet to go to their own homes and survey possible damage.

  It was, all things considered, a lovely event for lovely people.

  I congratulated them again before I departed and thanked them once more for being so gracious under trying circumstances.

  “The marriage takes place here,” Gottfried said, motioning to his heart. “The wedding is a way for your family and friends to celebrate what happens here.” He motioned again to his heart. “So as long as you have your family and friends with you and you take your vows together, that is what truly matters.”

  Aargh. Stick me in the heart and leave me to bleed, Gottfried. He couldn’t have known the effect his words would have on me or the inner turmoil it sparked.

  He was right, of course. It would be easy to elope to some remote destination and keep our marriage all to ourselves, but the most beautiful weddings I’d ever participated in had all been events where the couple was surrounded by love. The love and support of those closest to them as they celebrated the commitment and the union.

  “I know you’re gonna think I’m crazy and wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into,” I told Cabe as we ate powdered donuts and cheese with crackers by candlelight tonight, “but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

  “About what?” he asked as he tilted his head back and filled his mouth from the squeeze can of cheese.

  “I want to have a wedding. Like, a real one. With our families.”

  He opened his eyes wide and swallowed the cheese. “What changed your mind?”

  “Love. I was reminded today that it’s meant to be shared. I think I fell into the trap of being a bride. Of believing it’s all about me and my feelings and what I want. I see brides with that mindset all the time, and I hate it.”

  Cabe shook his head. “I don’t see you like that at all. I don’t think you were being selfish. I think you were trying to have your wedding be your own.”

  “Thank you for that, really. I know I haven’t been a barrel of roses to deal with since we got engaged, and I’m sorry. But I think I need to get out of my own head and allow this event to belong to more than just me. I realize I can’t please everyone, but I don’t have to focus on pleasing just me either.”

  He stroked his palm against my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. When he pulled away, the candlelight flickered across his eyes and illuminated his smile.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. “Because I’m fine with eloping. You just say the word and we’re on a jet plane. Or in a car. Boat. Plane. Whatever you want. I will marry you any time, any place.”

  “I’m sure,” I told him with a smile. “Now, you may need to remind me from time to time that I’m sure. Like, every time I talk to my mother for instance. Or when we’re buried up to our necks in place cards and seating arrangements. But I’m sure. I want to share our celebration with the people who love us.” I took a deep breath and sighed. “Which means, we need to choose a location and set a date.”

  Cabe arched an eyebrow and grinned, “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  I laughed. “I’m thinking we want to give people more notice.”

  “True. So how far out do you want to push this?”

  I thumbed through my phone’s calendar, thankful again that Cabe had bought us portable chargers prior to the storm. “Not too far. Let’s get the show on the road. I’m thinking before the end of the year. You?”

  He smiled. “I already said tomorrow would work for me.”

  “Okay, I have, like, no weekends after this month. September and October are insane. November 11th is crazy because of the whole eleven-eleven thing. Looks like my first weekend off is November 22nd. That’s the weekend before Thanksgiving, and my bride for the Saturday after canceled. That would mean a honeymoon Thanksgiving week, but if we spend time with our families at the wedding, maybe that’s okay? We could take off after my wedding on the fifteenth and head up there to get everything tied up that week? ”

  “So we’re definitely doing the hometown thing?”

  My eyes darted up from the phone to meet his. “Is that okay?”

  He pushed his chair back and leaned toward me, his arms braced on his knees. “Tyler, I already told you. I will marry you any time. Any place. You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there. Stop worrying about me in all this. As long as I’ve got you, I’m happy. Do whatever you want to do or whatever will cause you the least amount of stress.”

  I rolled my eyes and groaned a little. “I don’t think getting married back home will cause me the least amount of stress, but I think it means more to Mama than it does to anyone other than us. Maggie’s already said she will support our decision no matter what. Your grandparents have the means to travel. Our friends from work can come as long as they have enough notice. So getting married back home seems to be the best way to do it with all things considered.”

  “Okay. That’s decided. What’s the date again?”

  “November 22nd. Does that work for you?”

  He brushed his goatee with his fingers and gazed toward the ceiling. “November 22nd. November 22nd. Hmmm. I think I’m available.”

  I poked my finger in his stomach and laughed as he doubled over and wrapped me in a bear hug.

  “We have a wedding date and a location!” He sounded more excited than I could feel.

  Okay. Here we go. Start your engines.

  Monday, August 11th

  We spent all day yesterday cleaning up the yard from the storm and removing the storm shutters. Still no power, although Cabe said he talked to a neighbor who’d heard it would be back on later today.

  Neither of us were in the mood for foraging in the pantry for more junk food last night, so we drove to an area of town that had power to get something to eat.

  I got up when Cabe left this morning to concentrate on getting my stuff unpacked and put away. The plethora of w
indows in this house came in handy as far as letting the light in, but they also let in the heat. I think that’s what I miss the most about having electricity—air conditioning. Or maybe the coffee pot. And the microwave. Okay, yeah. I need electricity.

  By noon, Deacon and I were both panting in the stifling house, and I was beyond done with unpacking. We loaded up and went out for ice cream. I got Deacon a vanilla cone, his favorite thing in the whole world. He wolfed it down in about two bites and then zeroed in on my milkshake. We’d gone to the park to sit on the bench in the shade. Normally he runs and plays as soon as he’s out of the car, but today his milkshake fixation kept him right at my feet.

  When I had about a fourth of the shake left, I held out the cup for him and he ran his nose all the way down in it, licking and slurping like there was no tomorrow. When it was close to empty, he turned his face up with the cup still on his nose and let it drip into his mouth. Well, his mouth, his eyes, his snout. He was covered in pink.

  I took a pic and texted Cabe.

  Deacon has a new favorite color.

  He texted right back.

  Looks like he got in a fight with Pepto Bismol. And lost.

  I was about to text him another picture when Mama called.

  “Hey sugar! I ran into Teri Casanova this morning, and her daughter just got married. She said we can use whatever they’ve got left. She’s even got tablecloths she bought over in Dallas somewhere. How do you feel about lemon yellow?”

  “Ummm, I’m not feeling it. Cabe and I want to use purple.”

  “Purple? Well, purple goes with yellow. Have the girls wear purple dresses or something and then decorate with yellow. That would be real pretty together for a spring or summer wedding.”

  “Well, actually, I had planned to call you later tonight to tell you that we picked a date.” I took a deep breath and exhaled as I spoke. “November 22nd.”

  “November 22nd? Of next year?”

  I braced myself. “This year.”

  “Have you lost your cotton-pickin’ mind? That’s three months away. How on earth do you expect me to plan a wedding in three months?”

  “That’s plenty of time.”

  “Tyler Lorraine! It’s coming up on pecan season. Not to mention muscadines and pears. You know how much work it is for me to make my jellies and preserves. How am I supposed to plan a wedding if I’m up to my elbows in muscadines? Oh Lord in heaven, I can’t believe you would put me in this situation. I’ve gotta sit down. Oh, I feel faint. Hold on and let me put my head between my knees.”

  I had no real fear that she would faint. I’d never known the woman to faint at any point of her life, but she loved the drama of the threat and used it quite regularly.

  “Mama, I don’t expect you to plan anything. I’m a wedding planner, remember? I can plan my own wedding.”

  “I can’t hear you right now, Tyler. I’ve got my head between my knees to keep from fainting.”

  I rolled my eyes and walked Deacon over to the doggie fountain to try and get the pink off his face before it dried.

  “Okay. Call me back when you calm down.”

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me! Make me mad enough to cuss and then think you’re just gonna end the conversation? Oh, no ma’am. Ain’t gonna be a day. I’ve caught my breath now. You’ll just have to change it.”

  “Change it? My date?”

  “Yep.”

  Deacon shook with great gusto and splattered water all over me, which felt quite refreshing in the unrelenting heat of the day. I walked him back to the car and grabbed the Deacon towel from the backseat. “That’s the date, Mama. It’ll be fine. Please don’t get so worked up about it. We have plenty of time.”

  “It’s freezin’ cold in November. Who wants to go to a wedding in the cold? This is ridiculous. You gotta move it. Why can’t you pick a nice day in the spring or summer?”

  “We don’t want to wait until next year. November will be fine. I’m thinking I’ll do a winter theme.”

  “Oh my Lord. Sweet Jesus, call me home. A theme? You have lost your mind. You’ve done gone off down there and been around all these high-falutin’ rich folks and now you’re thinking you can do a wedding in the dead-cold of November with three months to plan. I’ve never in my life heard of such.”

  “We only want a simple event so we—”

  Her sharp intake of air cut me off even before she shrieked into the phone. “Oh Lord. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Are you pregnant? Is that why you’re rushin’? So help me heaven if you are pregnant after I’ve begged you to—”

  “No, I’m not pregnant! If I was, then I think waiting three months to have the wedding would kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, thank you, Jesus. I gotta sit down. I feel like I’m gonna faint again. Let me put my head between my legs.”

  “Okay, I gotta go.” Deacon danced dangerously near the water’s edge, and the last thing I wanted to do was go in the lake after him. That, plus I really wanted off the phone.

  “Wait, wait. Tyler, don’t hang up yet. What about the yellow? Want me to get it just in case? You can figure out what to do with it later.”

  “I’m not seeing yellow, Mama. We’ll figure something else out.”

  “But it’s free.” Free basically meant the holy grail to her. If something was free, we needed it. Even if we had no use for it at all. Free was a beacon that called to my mother and caught her in a tractor beam. I knew no matter what I answered, by the end of the day the back of her car would be filled with anything yellow Teri Casanova wanted to unload from her garage. If that hadn’t happened already before she even called me.

  Deacon pounced into the lake in pursuit of a duck, forgetting that his abnormally short legs would sink in the mud almost immediately. He turned back to me with a look that was part terror and part embarrassment.

  “I gotta fish Deacon out of the lake. I’ll call you later. No yellow.”

  I got the silly dog dried off as best I could and put him in the back seat on the Deacon blanket. When we pulled into our driveway, I was thrilled to see the front porch light on, which was great since it meant the air was back on, but not so great since I’d left all the windows open.

  I led Deacon to the back yard and unleashed him, then went in the house to shut the windows before heading back outside to bathe him. The heat inside the house was suffocating, and it did nothing to help my irritable mood.

  Pretty much the main reason I’d decided to get married back home was so Mama could be involved. Now I just had to figure out how to navigate those waters without sinking the whole ship.

  Thursday, August 14th

  Heidi called on Monday to ask if I could stop by Reynalda’s office today to go over some new proposals for Jayah and Chris’s event. She stressed that Reynalda had a three o’clock appointment immediately following our meeting, so I’d need to be there promptly at one so we could go over the files and allow her to get out and across town on time. I was tempted to be an hour late just to give Reynalda a taste of her own medicine, but my schedule was pretty packed so I didn’t have time to waste.

  I got there about a quarter ‘til one. I was relieved to see the lights on and Heidi at her desk, and I must admit I wasn’t surprised to find Reynalda absent.

  “She’s just running a little late coming back from lunch, but she’ll be here shortly. I’ve made copies of the new proposals for you if you’d like to read through them before she gets here.”

  “You know, Heidi, this would be so much simpler if I could just go back to having all the vendors email me directly. They could still copy you and Reynalda so you get everything, but then I’d have it right away and we could accomplish these meetings over the phone.”

  “Reynalda doesn’t feel comfortable with you having them email you since you work for another company.”

  “But all the vendors know me! They already know I work for Lillian and Laura, and that I’m just interning here for this event. It’s adding more time
in the process for you to get the proposals and then me coming here to get them. Even if you emailed them to me when you got them. Then I could review them and call Reynalda to discuss.” Not that there was much discussion anyway. She’d yet to actually discuss the event in any detail, almost like she couldn’t be bothered.

  Heidi shook her head slowly. “Reynalda wants you to come here.”

  “But that makes no sense. It’s not efficient. Especially not if she’s going to be late every time I come.”

  Heidi shrugged and handed me the copies she’d made. Reynalda’s double-R insignia was watermarked across all the pages. “Really? Does she think I’m going to somehow steal the proposals and use them for my own brides? Or woo Chris and Jayah to follow me?”

  I stared at Heidi as she looked at the ground. I felt bad for raking her over the coals. It wasn’t like she’d made any of the decisions.

  When I’d finished reviewing all the proposals and Reynalda still hadn’t arrived, I stood to go. “Please tell her I had to leave. She can reschedule or she can call me to discuss.” I held the copies up. “Am I allowed to take these with me, or do I need to leave them here?”

  Heidi stood up and wrung her hands together, dancing from foot to foot like she had to pee or something. “Please don’t leave. Just a few more minutes. She’ll be here, I swear, but she’ll be so upset if you leave. Please stay? A couple more minutes? Okay?”

  The girl looked like she was near tears. I felt like I’d wandered into the den of the Wicked Witch and found a lowly servant girl who’d been put under a spell of torment. “Okay, I’ll give it a couple more minutes. Are you alright?”

  She shook her head and dabbed at her eyes as her chin trembled. “I’m sorry. My boyfriend broke up with me last night. He’s seeing someone else.” As the words tumbled out, her tears fell and her voice broke. I started toward her, wanting to instinctively comfort a fellow human being in pain. But before I had taken two steps, Reynalda’s voice rang out behind me.