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

by Susan Mallery

  “Libby’s a bitch,” Silver said flatly. “You’re not going to say it, so I will. She’s horrible. I’m sure she has some twisted reason, but I don’t care. You’re her kid. You’re supposed to be nice to your kid. Especially one like you. You’re productive, successful and grounded. What more does she want?”

  “Me to work in the bank.” That had become clear. Funny how Pallas had always felt she had to fight her mother to get a job there, but over the past few weeks she’d realized that Libby actually did want her working at the bank. She had no idea why. For control? To be able to say, “This is my daughter and she works with me?” Only that implied pride and she’d never felt her mother was proud of anything she did.

  “Maybe she didn’t want to work at the bank,” Silver said. “Maybe she only did it because she thought she had to and she resents you’ve had the courage to follow your heart.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She couldn’t imagine her mother doing anything but working at the bank. It was as if Libby had been formed rather than born. Always an adult, always responsible and dressed in a suit. “Enough about her. Let’s talk about something fun.”

  “Like the under-the-sea wedding?” Silver took another cookie. “You gotta love Taylor’s courage to just go for it. Good for her. I already have a bunch of ideas for shots and signature drinks. I’m emailing you my proposal first thing Monday.”

  “I’m excited about all the fun things we could do.”

  “I love Nick’s idea about the soda and water in an old rowboat. I should be able to pick one up cheap, and then line it with plastic.”

  “Do they make them for kids? Because that size would be better.”

  Silver laughed. “See? This is so much more you than balancing ledgers and counting money. You’d hate working with your mom.”

  Pallas grinned. “You’ve never taken a finance class, have you? There’s more to banking than counting money.”

  “Blah, blah. It’s boring, regardless.” She gestured to the open courtyard. “This is us. We weren’t meant to conform. And screw those who don’t get that.”

  An interesting turn of conversation, Pallas thought. “Drew?” she asked gently.

  “I don’t know anyone named Drew, and if I did, I would think he was a jerk. Nope, I’m over him. Totally and completely.”

  Pallas thought that Silver would be a lot happier if that were actually true.

  “Have you thought of—” she began before Silver shook her head.

  “Don’t go there.”

  “But...”

  “No. I appreciate the thought, but no. I am over him. O.V.E.R. We are done and I don’t care.” She scrambled to her feet. “Okay, I need to go prep for tonight. I’ll see you soon.”

  Pallas collected the remains of their lunch, and then stood. She tossed the trash, but instead of going inside, she took a moment to study the building. From inside in the courtyard, there were plain stucco walls and lots of plants and trees. From the outside, there were different facades on different sides. Illusion, she thought, but the best kind. The kind that allowed silly dreams to become beautiful memories.

  Gerald had given her the gift of opportunity and faith. Because he’d believed in her enough to trust her with all he’d worked for. He’d loved her and cared for her and had changed her life forever.

  She walked inside. One of the wood panels was still on supports as Nick worked the repairs. Soon they would all be restored to their glorious selves. She was glad she hadn’t looked into selling them. Whatever their worth, they belonged here. While they wouldn’t fit in with every wedding, they were still a part of her inheritance and she was grateful.

  Her mother might be a nightmare, but Pallas had good men in her life. Her brother, her grandfather, Drew, Gerald, Alan.

  Nick.

  He was an unexpected pleasure. Strong and kind, funny, charming and more talented than anyone she’d ever met. What he could do with nearly any medium overwhelmed her. But he didn’t talk about his brilliance, or use it as an excuse. He worked the program. And soon he would be in Dubai.

  Funny how at first she hadn’t cared, but now the thought of him leaving made her sad. No—more than sad. More than upset. She would miss him desperately. She’d become used to seeing him every day, talking with him, making love with him. She liked that they went to The Boardroom for games tournaments and hung out with friends and had their own rituals. She liked everything about being with him. She’d been so busy scrambling to finish her degree and working and trying to please her mother that she’d forgotten what it was like to be a part of something. To care about someone that much.

  Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe it wasn’t a timing issue, but a man issue. Maybe she’d never bothered before because no one else had been Nick. And if her feelings were specifically about him, did that mean... Was it possible...

  Pallas stopped in the hallway and told herself to breathe. The truth was just there, out of reach. She wanted to know and whatever it was, she would deal. How did she feel about Nick?

  The answer came immediately and most of her wasn’t surprised. She loved him. She probably had for a while. She loved his smile and his mind and the way he was always touching her. She loved how he kept her safe and had been so excited about Nova’s wedding. She was in love with Nick.

  She waited for the fear that was sure to follow. Because love had to be earned. Only Nick hadn’t earned her love. He’d simply been the man in her life. Which meant what? That she’d given love freely? That she’d handed over her heart with no expectation for reciprocation? She just loved him?

  The concept was both shocking and freeing. If she could love Nick that way, with no payment required, then maybe she could start to accept that other people could feel the same way about her. Maybe she wasn’t doomed to be her mother after all.

  She let the knowledge of her love for Nick fill her and smiled when she felt the rightness of it. She loved him and in the loving, she was healing. It was right and it felt good. When he left, she was probably going to get her heart ripped out, but that was okay, too. It was what had to happen next. Nick was leaving and even if he wasn’t, he didn’t want love. He believed that passion consumed. He was wrong, but he would have to figure that out for himself. There was no way to convince him.

  Talk about mature, she thought to herself. Look at her—all big with the emotional growth. She was pretty proud of herself. Who knew what she would conquer next!

  * * *

  THAT NIGHT NICK barbecued on her small patio. She had thought about telling him what she’d discovered—what she felt, but had ultimately decided that was her thing, not his. He’d never asked her to love him. If she told him, he might not understand how she meant it and he might feel trapped. She didn’t want either. She wanted whatever time they had left together to be about them—not her feelings.

  While the grill heated, he leaned against the counter and watched her make salad. “I saw your mom today.”

  She put down the lettuce. “Where?”

  “At the bank. I have an account there. She’s not happy.”

  Pallas ignored the sudden tightness in her chest. “She’s never happy. What happened?”

  “Nothing much. We chatted.” He crossed to her and kissed her. “It took a lot of courage to stand up to her. You should be proud of yourself for doing that.”

  “Thanks. I am. I wish I’d done it earlier.”

  “Don’t be. When it was right, you said what you had to. Don’t take away from yourself by second-guessing the circumstances.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I also talked to Drew.”

  Her unease faded as amusement took its place. “What I would have given to be a fly on the wall.”

  “Everything went fine. He’s a good guy.”

  “I think so.
”

  “I’m glad you have people who take care of you.”

  “Me, too.”

  Dealing with her mother was difficult, but the rest of the family was pretty good.

  He went to the refrigerator and pulled out the chicken she’d already put in marinade. While he went outside to put it on the grill, she finished the salad, then joined him.

  “I sent back the signed contracts for the under-the-sea wedding,” she said. “I’m really looking forward to all the work.”

  “We’re going to have to figure out sea horses,” he told her. “I wish there was a way to use the zebras, but honestly I don’t see them in costumes.”

  “No zebras. They’ve been through enough.” She held in a smile. “You could make papier-mâché sea horses. I’ll help.”

  She expected him to groan but instead he nodded thoughtfully. “I could. I’d only need a couple of molds and now that I have the guy who can make them for me, I’d only have to do the sculpture in clay.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Nick Mitchell, you are not spending your incredibly valuable time carving molds for my weddings. That’s insane. You should be selling your stuff for millions.”

  He grinned as he turned the chicken. “My ‘stuff’ as you call it, already sells for plenty. Besides, projects like these are fun. I’m having a good time and so are you. Look how enthused you are. You should branch out more.”

  “If you can dream it, we can make it happen?” she asked, her voice teasing, before stopping and staring at him. “Oh my God! Nick, that’s it. That’s what I want to do. Or say. Or tell people. You know what I mean. That should be my mission statement. If you can dream it, we can make it happen.”

  “Not weddings in the box,” he told her. “Weddings out of the box.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  PALLAS HAD TO wait until after the weekend to set up a lunch with her friends. Everyone was busy with a cowboy wedding on Friday night and a smaller princess-slash-Italian villa wedding on Sunday afternoon. Monday was spent in a fog of cleanup and recovering, but by Tuesday, Pallas was dying to talk with her friends about all the possibilities for her new business. As they were a central part of the plan, she wanted to make sure they were on board. Violet had offered her place for the meeting, so at two thirty, Pallas collected her tote from her car and walked to her friend’s small shop.

  Violet’s store was on the edge of town, in a quiet, older neighborhood. Here the roads were more narrow, the traffic lighter. Storefronts had apartments above them and old-fashioned window boxes. Violet’s place was part consignment store, part antique store with an emphasis on vintage clothing. She had a section for her precious buttons and a small space to do her tailoring work.

  Her loft apartment was upstairs. It was exactly the size of her store, with equally large windows. Despite Violet’s love of everything old, her space was surprisingly modern. Only a screen separated the living room from the bedroom and the only walled-off section was the bathroom.

  In the living room, two sofas faced each other. A big dining room table sat by the huge windows. Pallas knew that Violet used the table as much for work as for eating, so she wasn’t surprised when Violet guided them there.

  Violet set out pitchers of iced tea and plates of cookies, then took one of the chairs. Wynn sat next to her, with Silver next to Pallas. They all looked at Pallas expectantly.

  She shuffled her notes, then pushed them aside. “My mom has been after me to sell the business,” she began.

  “What?” Wynn shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

  “Libby’s a bitch,” Silver announced as she grabbed a cookie. “Always has been.”

  “I’m not going to do it,” Pallas said quickly. “I love what I do.”

  “Good.” Violet smiled encouragingly. “But? Is there a but?”

  “But I haven’t been happy with how things were going at Weddings in a Box. Profits were low and there’s a certain sameness to the weddings. I was really sad when Nova had to cancel.”

  “Me, too,” Violet said. “Have you talked to her?”

  “No. I left her a message, but I haven’t heard back. I’m sure she’s busy dealing with all kinds of things.” Even expected, the loss of her father would be devastating.

  “We all loved working with her,” Wynn said. “I’ve never tried to make banners like that before. What a great idea. You know, we should use them in other weddings. They’re not that expensive and now that you don’t have to buy the panels, we can get them together quickly. They would add a real personal touch to the event.”

  Wynn drew in a breath, her eyes wide. “Oh, wow, I just got the best idea. What if we took pictures as people came into the ceremony? Someone could do that and get me the file. If this was all planned in advance, I could use the same background and make a kind of collage with the pictures. It wouldn’t take very long. I’m sure I could have it back to you by the time the reception starts. People could sign them and write notes. It would be a great personal memory of the event.” She thought for a second. “Not that I want to be doing that every Saturday night but I wouldn’t mind doing it sometimes. For someone like Nova.”

  “You wouldn’t have to do it then,” Pallas said slowly, thinking as she spoke. “What if the guest book was digital and that was how we did the pictures? It was at the reception—they got their picture taken and wrote something. I could get you the file on Monday morning and you could do it anytime over the next couple of weeks. It would be like a digital scrapbook, with the wedding theme as a backdrop. That way I wouldn’t have to figure out which couples were worthy.”

  “I love that,” Violet said. “It’s fun.”

  “And a great moneymaker,” Wynn added. “Let me get you a quote. I’ll do it with a minimum number of pages, then a price for every page after that.”

  “This is what I want,” Pallas told them. “More creativity, more fun. Rather than weddings in a box, I want to do weddings out of the box.”

  “I like it.” Silver smiled. “Are you changing the name of your business?”

  “Yes. I’m going to file the paperwork with the city and get new business cards made. I’ll have to update the website, which will take time. My point is I want to branch out. I just signed a contract for an under-the-sea wedding.” She explained about Taylor and Jake’s dream wedding.

  “You’re going to be buying more accessories,” Wynn said. “And you’ll need more costumes. Can you store everything in the space you have now?”

  “No. We’re already crammed.” She hadn’t thought about storage. “I’m not sure what makes sense. Those storage unit places can be expensive.”

  “I have an idea,” Wynn said. “I want to move my business. I’m growing just enough that it’s too small for me. I found a great storefront with a huge warehouse in back. I don’t need that much storage and I don’t want to pay for space I’m not using. I didn’t want to sublease because I didn’t want to have to deal with someone I didn’t know, but this could be a solution.” She nodded at Silver. “We’ve already discussed Silver using a small part of it for her decorations.”

  “And the trailer itself,” Silver added. “There’s a big fenced-in parking area out back. I don’t like to leave my trailer stocked when it’s parked in front of my house. All I need is a couple of teenagers breaking in, having a party, then going for a joyride. This way I can restock as needed and it’s safe.”

  “There will still be plenty of square footage for you, if you’re interested,” Wynn said.

  Pallas was thrilled. “That’s a great solution. When can I come see the space?”

  “How about tomorrow morning? I have to let the landlord know by the end of the week.”

  Pallas wrote down the address. Having more storage would be a big help. Right now she could barely find room for everything. Costumes wer
e all crammed together. The caterer didn’t have anywhere to set up. But if she could move everything to an off-site location, she could open the upstairs rooms for other purposes. More than one bride had asked to have the rehearsal dinner on-site, but there wasn’t any room—not when she had to start setting up for the wedding the day before. Maybe one of the rooms could be modified for that. Of course with everything at a different location, she would have to get a van or something to move costumes and decorations, but why not?

  “Okay, now I know why you asked me to come up with less-specific server costumes,” Violet said. “Right now they’re totally custom, and while that’s great, it’s expensive. You’re limited by what’s on hand. Some brides might be turned off by that, but if you went a different direction, you could get by with two or three server costumes that could be modified to fit any situation.”

  She pulled a file out of her tote. “I’ve thought about this. My suggestion is that you leave the guys in black pants and change out their shirts.” She flipped pages to show a toga-like shirt, a shirt with billowy sleeves and a basic black shirt. “We could do a lot with vests that are easy to make and more forgiving, sizewise. I’d say dress the female servers the same. If there’s enough other stuff going on, the servers will just blend into the background. You can put your decor money into other things.”

  It wasn’t how Gerald had done it, Pallas thought, but the simpler server outfits made sense.

  “The bride could still choose the look,” Silver pointed out. “And hey, if she wanted to pay for custom uniforms, then she would get them.”

  Pallas nodded. “That makes more sense. I’d still have some costumes for specific weddings that are always popular. Like the togas for the Roman soldiers who carry in the bride. But it’s not cost-effective to dress the serving staff when we’re going to have so many options.”