You Say It First--A Small-Town Wedding Romance

by Susan Mallery

  “Yes, but I suspect you’re not offering that,” Violet told him. “At least not to me.”

  Pallas ignored her friend. “I want to tell you we’re self-actualized and totally capable, but some help would be nice.”

  “Set down the box and step aside,” he told them.

  They did as he requested. While Violet wheeled the suitcase into the shop, Nick carried in each of the boxes.

  Wynn had a small office set up for video conferencing. There was a table and eight chairs, a dry-erase board and a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall.

  Pallas helped Violet unpack the boxes. She’d brought in what looked like skirts, only they weren’t that structured and they had layers of colors.

  “Overlays,” Violet told her. “I’m still playing with how everything should look. Nova and I have been emailing and I need her to pick a direction.”

  She’d also made a half-dozen sample headpieces for the bridesmaids. Wynn carried in rolls of paper that she set on the table. Nick opened a box of papier-mâché flowers. Silver arrived right after him with a large cooler in each hand.

  “I feel like a slacker,” Pallas admitted, taking her seat at the table. All she had was a tablet and a pad of paper.

  “You’ll work plenty hard the day of the wedding,” Wynn pointed out. “While the rest of us are getting drunk.”

  “I won’t get drunk until later.” Silver patted her arm.

  “Alcohol suddenly seems to be a theme,” Pallas murmured. “Should I be worried?”

  “Definitely,” Violet told her.

  They all took their seats at the table. At two thirty, Wynn logged in to her conference program, then turned on the television. A couple of seconds later, Nova appeared on the screen.

  “Hi, everyone,” the bride-to-be called, her dark eyes bright with excitement.

  “Hey, Nova.”

  “Joel and I are so thrilled about all of this. Thank you so much for your help.”

  “We’re loving it,” Pallas told her. “This has been a really fun creative challenge.”

  “I’m glad. So how do you want to do this?”

  Everyone turned to Pallas, as if she was in charge. Which she kind of was.

  “Let’s go around the table and talk about what we have planned. We’re at the point where we have to make decisions and get things ordered. After you’ve reviewed all the options, I’ll run through a tentative schedule for the day.” She tapped her pad. “I sent you the file this morning.”

  Nova waved several sheets of paper. “I have it right here.” She giggled. “It’s really happening. I’m so excited.”

  Pallas nodded at Wynn. “Why don’t you go first?”

  Wynn got up and moved to the back of the conference room, where she unrolled the first four-foot by two-foot posters. It showed a landscape done in purple, teal and black, which should have been dark and creepy. Instead the plants and mountains and sky were surreal but with an elegant twist.

  “Can you see it?” Wynn asked, shifting to center the poster in front of the camera.

  “I can. I love it. That’s perfect.”

  “Don’t say that yet,” Wynn told her. “I have three more options. Once you pick your favorite ones, I’ll have them blown up into giant size, and then put in the frames we bought. They’ll line the walls at the ceremony, then be moved outside for the reception.”

  Pallas made notes as Wynn and Nova discussed each option. Nick weighed in and in a matter of minutes, a choice was made.

  “I’m next,” Violet said. “Let’s start with the overskirt. I’ve been playing with different ideas. I think some kind of belt with a hook and loop closure would work best. That way the bridesmaids can take it off for the reception, if they want.”

  She showed Nova the layered skirt in different weights of fabric and different color combinations.

  “I also made this,” Violet said, pulling a hairpiece out of a box. The style was intricate and matched that of the female warriors in the game. Twisted braids created a series of ovals. She’d added silk flowers in the video game colors.

  “I know it’s kind of over-the-top, but I couldn’t help myself. I also have these.” She held up the more traditional headpieces with ribbons and flowers.

  “Oh, wow.” Nova pressed her hands together. “Can you put one on Pallas and another on Wynn? So I can see what they look like on a real person?”

  Nick leaned close to Pallas. “She picked you first because you’re the prettiest,” he whispered. “I’d pick you first, too.”

  Pallas smiled at him and hoped she didn’t blush. Violet got a brush out of her bag and walked around the table. After pulling Pallas’s hair back into a low ponytail, she slipped the wig on her head and adjusted it. Without a mirror, Pallas had no idea how she looked, which was disconcerting, especially with everyone studying her intently.

  “I like it,” Nova said. “Now you, Wynn.”

  The headpiece sat easily on the top of her head.

  “It’s pretty,” Silver said, her voice doubtful.

  “But not as special,” Nick added. “I like Pallas’s better. What do you think, Nova?”

  “I agree. Let me talk to my bridesmaids and find out how they’re going to be wearing their hair. If they’re game for the wig, we’ll go that way.”

  Pallas pulled off the wig and shook out her hair. Nick was up next. He set three papier-mâché flowers on the table.

  “I’m going to make thirty or so of each, then group them around the venue.” He showed her the different colors, then explained how he would use black light paint, as well.

  “I’m still working on the power orbs. I’m not sure how to make them glow.”

  “I love the flowers,” Violet told him. “They’re amazing.”

  “Thanks.” He held up a three foot by two foot pad of drawing paper and centered it in front of the camera. “Brace yourself. Here are my ideas for your wedding dress.”

  “No!” Violet’s voice was a whimper. “It’s a designer gown. You can’t paint it.”

  “Breathe,” Silver said with a laugh. “Just breathe.”

  Violet covered her face with her hands. “I can’t look.”

  Nick flipped to the first page on the pad. Everyone gasped, including Pallas. She stared at the sketch of the dress done in simple lines. What caught her attention were the bold strokes of purple, teal and black against the white lace and nude netting. Nick had followed the lines of the lace to create a swirling pattern similar to the backdrop on Wynn’s posters. There were three other options, variations on design and color.

  “The skin-colored background will ground the brighter tones,” he said. “The colors will stand out, but I’ll leave in enough white to give the illusion of a wedding gown.”

  “It is a wedding gown,” Violet pointed out. “There’s no illusion.”

  “Let it go,” Wynn told her. “It’s not traditional, but it’s stunning.”

  “I agree,” Pallas added. “But only one vote counts.”

  They looked at the screen. Nova wiped away tears.

  “Nick, you’ve turned my dress into the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen. I like all the options but the third one is my favorite. Can you really do that?”

  He flipped back to the right page and they went over the details. Pallas studied the design and guessed it would take him hours to get the individual threads painted. If he was willing to do the work, then Nova would have the wedding gown of her dreams.

  They wrapped up the meeting with a discussion of signature drink options and set a date for a virtual tasting. If Nova couldn’t get into town herself, they would have a second conference call where she could see the various options and everyone would taste them and offer thoughts. By four, they were finished.

  “G
ood work, everyone,” Pallas said as they walked out of the conference room. She’d never planned so much of a wedding remotely before, but thought they had the main items handled.

  “Ready for Saturday?” Violet asked.

  Her happy mood faded, leaving her feeling slightly anxious.

  “Yes.”

  “That wasn’t a happy yes,” Nick said. “It’s the black-and-white wedding. There will be zebras. How can anything go wrong if there are zebras?”

  Pallas winced. “Let’s not tempt fate.” She squared her shoulders and smiled at Violet. “I’m ready. It’s more the bride who’s the problem. She’s become a bit difficult.”

  Violet sighed. “Better you than me. If I was working with a snippy bride, I’d be tempted to stab her with a hat pin. Of course then I wouldn’t get a very good online review. It’s probably for the best that it’s you and not me. Let me know if I can help with anything.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except for the zebras. That’s more my sister’s thing than mine.”

  Silver joined them. “If it makes you feel any better, the signature drinks are fantastic, if I do say so myself. I’ll save you a batch.”

  Pallas laughed. “Thank you. Should things go awry, I’ll comfort myself with the promise of liquor at the end of the day.”

  * * *

  SATURDAY MORNING PALLAS woke early to an unfamiliar sound. She still had fifteen minutes before her alarm went off but the noise was so strange, she got up to investigate. Halfway down the hall she came to a stop as her sleepy brain provided the most horrifying possibility. She raced to the living room, where she tore back the drapes and screamed.

  “Rain?”

  No. No! It couldn’t rain. It never rained. They were in the desert. She had an outdoor reception that very afternoon. And zebras. It couldn’t be raining.

  An hour later she stood under the Juliet balcony at Weddings in a Box and stared at the puddles forming in the parking lot. Alan drove up and waved. He joined her, offering her a take-out coffee and a pink box.

  “I brought donuts. The good ones, too. No plain cake donuts for us on wedding day.”

  His voice was cheerful, his smile broad.

  “How can you be so calm?” she demanded. “It’s raining.”

  “No worries. The weather channel says the showers will pass in an hour or two, and then it will be sunny.”

  “But it’s rain. We’re not supposed to get rain here. We don’t need rain. We get our water from an aquafer, like God intended. This is bad, Alan. It’s an omen.”

  “You don’t believe in omens.”

  “I’ve never had rain on the day of a wedding before. Not in the past eight years.” Happily Inc got rain in the winter. Or on weekdays. They averaged less than six inches a year, which was perfectly fine because they had a giant aquafer with millions and billions of gallons of water. They weren’t supposed to get rain. Not on black-and-white wedding day.

  Alan guided her into the building. “It’s all right, Pallas. We’re going to drink our coffee and eat donuts, then plan out the day. By then, the rain will be gone. April showers bring May flowers.”

  “It’s already May.”

  “Yes it is, Miss Grumpy-Pants. You need some sugar and caffeine. Then everything will look better.”

  “What if the rain is Gerald’s way of saying he’s mad at me for doing things differently with this wedding?”

  Alan kissed her forehead. “Darling, that’s not possible. Gerald loved you. You could never make him angry or disappoint him. Of that I’m sure.”

  The words were comforting. Pallas told herself to keep breathing and that all would be well. If not, she and Silver had a date for cocktails later.

  By the time they’d eaten a couple of donuts, Pallas had to admit she was feeling a little more positive about the day. Having the rain stop helped, as did Nick showing up.

  He grabbed the last donut and sat next to them at one of the reception area tables.

  “Gotta love the rain,” he said as he smiled at Pallas. “It clears out the air. It’s going to be a beautiful afternoon and evening.”

  She liked that he was an optimist. She didn’t believe him for a second, but she liked it. “I’m worried the rain is an omen.”

  Alan sighed heavily. “Someone has taken a walk on Crazy Street this morning.”

  “I haven’t. I’m just concerned. There are a lot of moving parts to this wedding and we never get rain.”

  “There are always a lot of moving parts,” Nick pointed out, his tone gentle. “And rain is a sign of life. In many cultures and regions rain at a wedding is considered good luck.”

  “Name one.”

  “Hindu.”

  She glared at him. “You know I have to go look that up, right?”

  “Trust me. It’s okay. The wedding is going to be great. You’re good at your job. Trust me, trust yourself and relax.”

  Great advice, she thought two hours later when Carol arrived with the zebras, who were unamused about being transported.

  “I’m glad we’re doing this early,” Carol told her. “They’re going to need some time to settle down before people start arriving and taking pictures of them.”

  The three zebras had been transported in a large horse trailer. Even from several feet away, Pallas could hear the sound of their restless hooves on the floor of the carrier.

  “How did you get them inside?” she asked.

  Carol grinned. “All my animals will work for food. They have a favorite treat they like. Millie, the giraffe, will practically roll over for a Marionberry leaf-eater treat. The zebras were bribed.”

  She and Carol walked to the temporarily fenced-in area that had been installed. Pallas pointed out the huge tub of water in one corner.

  “I’ll make sure that stays filled,” she said. “I have a special zebra watering person on duty.”

  “You can release that worry,” Carol told her. “Zebras can go several days without drinking.”

  “I thought that was camels.” Pallas held up a hand. “Never mind. We can explore mammals and their drinking habits later. I have a wedding to put on.” She glanced at her watch and then at the parking lot beside Weddings in a Box. Right on time Cade pulled up in his truck.

  “Help has arrived,” she said.

  Carol laughed. “Oh, good. A cowboy. Just what I need.” She walked to the trailer. “I mean that sincerely, by the way, although I have a feeling the zebras are going to freak him out.”

  Cade walked up in time to hear the last comment. He shook his head. “Nothing on four legs can best me.”

  “Brag much?” Pallas asked, giving him a quick hug. “Okay, I’m drowning. I need to know that you two will handle the zebra situation for me.”

  “We’ve got it,” Carol assured her. “Go have a nice wedding. I’m already happy—the check cleared and now I can afford Millie’s pricey treats.”

  Pallas waved at them, then hurried back toward the main venue. She’d barely reached the edge of the parking lot when a stretch limo pulled up.

  Catherine was early. Pallas liked when a bride was on time and early was even better. Maybe she’d been wrong thinking the rain was a bad omen.

  Only the second the rear door of the limo opened and Catherine stepped out, Pallas realized she’d relaxed just a little too soon. The tall, willowy blonde’s face was red and puffy from crying. Several attendants followed, each looking more than a little shaken.

  “What’s wrong?” Pallas asked.

  “Everything. I hate my dress. I don’t know why I bought it. Have you seen the flowers? I haven’t, but I know they’re a disaster. I’m not even sure I still love Byron. What was I thinking? I want to call off the wedding.”

  Pallas ignored the sudden pile of rocks sitting in her stomach, along with the rush of panic. S
he’d been through this before. Brides frequently slipped over the edge on their wedding day. She was a pro and knew exactly what to do.

  She took Catherine by her arm. “Let’s get you inside. Have you eaten today? You look pale. Maybe some tea and toast will help. Then we’ll talk about everything that’s wrong and fix it.” She turned to the bridesmaids. “Is her dress in the trunk? Please bring it inside.”

  She got Catherine settled in the bride’s room, then texted Alan. He appeared almost immediately and hurried to Catherine’s side.

  “Oh, my dear, what you’re going through. How are you holding up?” He studied her blotchy face and straight hair. “Where are your beauty people? When are they due to arrive? Should I call and yell at them for you? I’m very good at it.” He took her hand in his. “You’re like ice. My goodness, who is taking care of you? Let me get you a soft blanket and some tea. You’re the bride. You can’t be expected to handle everything yourself. Let me help.”

  Catherine visibly relaxed. Pallas exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Alan would work his magic on the bride, as he always did. The wedding would go forward and all would be well. The skies were clear and they had zebras. Everything was going to be just fine. She was sure of it.

  * * *

  THE AFTERNOON PASSED QUICKLY. Alan stayed with Catherine, the beauty team arrived and did their thing. At five, the ushers were seating the guests, and at five forty-five, the beautiful bride walked down the aisle. Pallas stood in the back next to Alan as they watched the ceremony move smoothly forward.

  “See,” he whispered. “It’s fine.”

  “You were right.”

  “Three of my favorite words. I’m going to make you repeat them again and again.”

  Pallas left to check on the catering. Silver had her trailer set up and was mixing the signature drinks; the bride’s specially hired DJ had already started setting up his equipment. Nick, who only needed to be a courtier for the procession, had already changed back into street clothes.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Much. I still think the server costumes are a little slutty, but that wasn’t my call. We have food, we have drinks, we have music.” She glanced over to where the DJ had set up his equipment. “I’m going to start breathing more deeply now.”