The Rejected Writers' Christmas Wedding (The Southlea Bay Series Book 3)

by Suzanne Kelman

  When she arrived back in the hallway, I was looking through the basket and Gracie was dancing around the hall with two completely different slippers on: one was made of red velvet and the other was an embroidered white slip on.

  “I just can’t decide,” she said as she looked down at her feet. “I want to be a little devilish and scoot around in this red velvet one; but then this little white embroidered slipper reminds me of being a bride again. It seems more appropriate when we’re at Flora’s wedding shower to be wearing this little white one.” She suddenly giggled. “Maybe I’ll just wear one of each,” she decided, making her way into the foyer.

  As I pulled out a pair, Ruby arrived wearing a beautiful black silk beaded dress and a large white Marie Antoinette wig. Which was French, but this was Ruby, who always had to add her own twist. She had replaced her bangles and beads with a large fake pearl necklace and bracelet. She also had a beautifully embroidered fan, which she fanned herself with as she walked in.

  The butler automatically introduced himself as Jeeves in a stern British way. Ruby smiled. “I love it,” she said, batting him with her fan. “I think Flora is going to get a kick out of this.”

  I glanced around the paneled foyer. The sisters had already decorated for Christmas; the elegant crystal chandelier that dominated the center of their hall was strewn with fresh-cut holly and mistletoe.

  Adorning their beautiful staircase, long gold-and-silver strings of beads hung from a fresh green pine garland, which was draped elegantly. It’s piney fragrance mixed with the smell of fruity cocktails and the party food that Jeeves was now passing around on a tray.

  From the main room, I could hear classical Mozart music playing, and I could smell even more exquisite aromas emanating from the kitchen.

  The butler was suddenly by my side with a tray.

  “Would madame like an hors d’oeuvre?” he said in a deep, booming voice.

  “Yes, madame would,” I joked back. I popped in a little shrimp puff pastry that melted in my mouth.

  Just then, Flora arrived, just having been told ahead of time to arrive wearing something Edwardian. She was dressed in an incredible Edwardian outfit, her blonde hair piled up on top with a lovely Victorian clasp. She wore a delicate stole and an exquisite heart-shaped locket that her mother had given her.

  Jeeves announced in a very grand tone, “The bride is here.” Flora looked thrilled at the effort the sisters had made. She pulled a lovely pair of slippers out of her bag.

  As we started to make our way into the main room, I noticed Ethel hovering in the corner of the hallway next to the Labettes’ Christmas tree, which was impeccably dressed in designer crystal baubles and bows. She had been standing there like a scared rabbit since we arrived. As Doris moved toward the front room, she automatically shuffled behind. Lottie caught Ethel’s arm.

  “Ethel, honey, I wonder if you’d mind removing your shoes. We’ve had the floor rewaxed, and it’s easy to scuff it right now. We have a basket of slippers over by the door. Why don’t you help yourself to a pair?”

  Ethel did not look impressed—her face communicated that loud and clear. I watched her rummage through the basket. Being barely five feet tall and a tiny woman, I guessed that her feet were no bigger than a five or six.

  The basket was pretty picked over, with only the other red velvet slipper, the other white brocade slipper, a pair of slip-on socks, and some sheepskin moccasins left. She tried on the slipper socks first. They were very long and reached over her knees to her thighs. She looked like a miserable version of Pippi Longstocking. She shook her head and pulled them off. She reluctantly put on the sheepskin moccasins that appeared to be a couple of sizes too big. She looked like a grizzly bear. They were so large, she could hardly walk in them. So she just scooted across the floor.

  When we moved into the main room, it almost took my breath away. The Labette sisters sure knew how to throw a party. The whole room was transformed by vases of white flowers, dozens of white candles, and classical music.

  “Welcome to your Jane Austen bridal shower,” Lottie announced. “We have a few fun gifts and a game to play.”

  She handed everybody a quill and a piece of parchment.

  “First, the game,” she said. “We are going to reenact some famous parts from Jane Austen’s books, and you have to guess which books they’re from.”

  Lottie and Lavinia proceeded to act out some of the most famous scenes from Jane Austen stories to the raucous laughter of the entire room. Well, nearly the entire room. Both Doris and Ethel seemed very confused about what was going on.

  “Sense and Sensibility,” shouted Ruby-Skye after one especially wonderful proposal from Lottie to Lavinia. She jumped to her feet without writing it down, and we all clapped.

  “Why, if I’d had a man propose to me like that,” said Lavinia, tapping her twin’s cheek, “maybe I would have stayed married.”

  After we had finished the game, Flora opened our gifts: some beautiful candlesticks from Annie, a gorgeous Indian silk scarf from Ruby, and a gift card from Ethel. I had brought her some lovely Jane Austen leatherback books that I found in a secondhand shop, which she hugged to her chest with delight. And Lavinia and Lottie had bought her some quite sensational underwear, a lilac lace camisole, and panties. We all roared with laughter when she pulled the lacy panties out of the box—everyone except Ethel, who just stared at it, her mouth agape.

  The butler turned up and served us tea, and Doris made an announcement.

  “I decided on a musical gift,” she said dryly as she pulled out her bongo drums and handed a battered-looking maraca to Ethel. She then started to tap out a rather ragged version of “Yellow Bird” as she hummed along, and Ethel shook the maraca with the least amount of enthusiasm she could summon. We all sat there, not quite sure how to respond.

  The butler continued to hand out tea, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh as he offered a cup to Doris. “Would madame like a cup of tea after she has played with her bongos?” he asked solemnly.

  Doris gazed at him, her eyes fixed as she concentrated. “Two sugars,” she said in between verses as she continued to hum, and he obliged—but I was pretty sure he was sniggering—and left her cup on the side table with a slice of Doris’s own walnut cake.

  After the “performance,” the Labettes announced they had a surprise. “I think you’re going to love it,” said Lottie. “I believe it’s going to be perfect for your special day.”

  Flora’s face registered slight irritation, as, I knew, she was getting more than fed up with the amount of “helpful” suggestions about her wedding.

  Lavinia and Lottie stood on either side of the light blue silk drapes in front of their large picture window. Lavinia launched into a speech that sounded as if she’d been practicing all day. “Flora, darling, you are so dear to the both of us, almost like a daughter—if either of us had ever gotten around to having one.”

  There was a collective nod from the group.

  “As we didn’t, we felt the need to help you in any way that we could, especially during this most momentous occasion of your marriage, but we felt that one thing wasn’t quite right. There is one thing we know that you’ve planned that we were hoping we could change your mind about. I know this is quite a big thing, so we don’t want to rush you, but we think this will turn out for the best in the long run.”

  I glanced across at Flora. Her face frowned in anticipation of a surprise I wasn’t sure she wanted.

  “Outside of this window,” said Lottie, stretching her arm toward the curtains, “is something very extraordinary. Something I think you’ll agree is going to make your wedding perfect.”

  Lottie nodded to Lavinia. Lavinia pulled hard on the braided gold tassel in one zealous sweeping gesture. Both the twins sang out in unison, “Ta-da!”

  Standing at the window and leering in was a man with a smiling face. We all screamed, jumped to our feet, and dropped our cakes and cups in the process. All that could be heard wa
s the sound of smashing china and spilling tea. Then, above it all, came one desperate voice: “Surely you’re not expecting me to change my groom.”

  Lottie and Lavinia, taken aback by the reaction, glanced out of the window and screamed in unison, too.

  “Oh my!” said Lottie. “Who is that?”

  “Why, it’s a man,” said Lavinia as he waved at her. “I believe it’s one of our landscapers.”

  “Wow,” exclaimed Gracie, her eyes all aglow. “Her very own Mr. Darcy.” Then, looking down at her sparkly silver wand, she added, “I had no idea this was so powerful.” She then swished it around her head a couple of times and giggled.

  “Oh, honey,” said Lottie, moving quickly to Flora’s side, who was shaking. “We love Dan. We wouldn’t expect you to make that kind of a change. We just wanted to show you a little gazebo room that we think would convert into a lovely chapel for you, maybe for the evening affair, too. It has nothing to do with that man. I don’t even know what he’s doing there.”

  With the screams, the butler arrived at the door and slipped back into his American accent. “Is everybody OK?”

  “There’s a man,” said Ethel, pointing a crooked finger toward the window in horror.

  “A rather cute one,” added Annie, laughing.

  “Please deal with him, Jeeves,” commanded Lottie.

  “At once, madame,” he said, returning to his British butler voice, and with a neat bow, he swept out of the room.

  Lavinia worked to calm her hysterical sister, who was overcome with everything. The rest of us were on our hands and knees, clearing up broken china, when I heard Doris grumble to me as she tried to dab tea from the twins’ Persian rug with soda, “Surprises are never good. There’s no plate smashing or leering men at one of my rejection group meetings. This is what happens when we let our standards drop.”

  As Annie swept up cake crumbs, she added, “I’ve never been to a wedding shower where a young man was a wedding present. That’s very novel.”

  A few minutes later, Jeeves issued in the young man, who looked very sheepish.

  “Sorry if I startled you ladies,” he said. “Just happened to leave my hat here in the garden when I was pruning Lavinia’s tree.”

  I looked at his face. He looked down, avoiding my gaze, and I wasn’t sure if he was telling the whole truth. I know the sisters had the gates unlocked to let us all in, but why hadn’t he come directly to the door? Had he been listening at the window?

  “This is John,” said Lavinia with a wave of a hand. “He’s one of our new landscapers.”

  “My goodness, you did give us a turn,” said Lottie. “For a minute I thought my crazy sister had ordered a male stripper.”

  With that, Ethel sank into a chair. I thought she was going to pass out.

  Soon the china disaster was cleared, and John stayed for a while. I noticed he was very interested in everything Flora had to say before eventually leaving. After he was gone, we took a tour of Lavinia and Lottie’s little chapel, which was obviously in need of some refurbishment but was absolutely enchanting, with a beautiful view of the water through the windows. As we moved inside, they told us that it had once been used as a large game room for their poppa.

  “It has seen lots of poker parties and rotary club meetings,” Lottie informed us.

  It was a spacious rectangular building with a beautiful vaulted ceiling and picture-box windows running down each side. Tables were stacked against one wall along with various pieces of exercise equipment and bicycles, plus a full-size snooker table, Ping-Pong table, and dartboard. At the bottom of the room, a huge arched window looked out onto the rolling waves of the Sound.

  “Imagine everything emptied out and a lick of bright white paint on the walls,” Lottie continued, becoming animated. “And rows of little wooden chairs on either side of a flower-strewn aisle. At the far end, on one side of the arched window, a magnificent blue spruce decorated with lights and bows in Flora’s wedding colors. Down the aisle and in every window, pink and white poinsettias. Why, in fact,” she linked arms with her sister, “you and Dan could walk right down the middle of the room right here.” Lottie started to hum the “Wedding March” as she moved down the center of the room with Lavinia at her side.

  “Don’t get me going on that,” remarked her twin. “You know that only brings back bad memories for me. I’ve marched down enough aisles in my time.”

  As we creaked along the cedar floor, we started to see the space through Lottie’s eyes.

  “We’ve had over one hundred and fifty people in here before now. We could do something with the windows; maybe add some fabulous silk drapes. And the view is spectacular.”

  We reached the end of the room, stepped up toward the window, first taking in the view of the water, then turning to regard the room from the opposite vantage point.

  “Imagine getting married right in front of this window,” I said wistfully.

  “Exactly,” said Lottie.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” added Lavinia.

  “You think I had a great idea?” said Lottie, putting her hand to her face in shock. “Will wonders never cease?”

  The twins giggled.

  “I would love to have it here,” said Flora, her eyes wide with the anticipation. “I had planned to have it at the hotel in town, but after that awful fire, the community hall was all that was available. This, however, would be adorable.” She twirled around in the space.

  “We’re so pleased,” the twins exclaimed in unison.

  “I love it,” Flora added, beaming. “I can’t wait to tell Dan.”

  We followed the sisters back through the room toward the door.

  “We’ll get a paint team in,” Lottie confirmed over her shoulder. “And we’ll bring extra chairs down from the attic and from the barn, get them all cleaned up.”

  We all stood in the driveway.

  “It appears we’ve had enough excitement for one night,” I said with a smile. “We should probably be going.” It was getting on toward nine o’clock, and I needed to get home. I offered Flora a lift, but she shook her head. I knew she always liked to walk home, even in the dark. It was only a ten-minute walk to town from here. I watched her leave and smiled to myself. She was going to make a beautiful bride.

  Flora walked out of the twins’ house and passed John’s car. She noted he had out-of-state plates. When he saw her, he nodded from the driver’s seat, and for a minute she thought he might be smoking. As Flora passed the car, he opened the window of his Pinto and asked her if she’d like a lift. Flora shook her head and informed him that she enjoyed walking into town and wanted to get some fresh air. She started to walk at a clip. Something about this young man unnerved her a little but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what that might be.

  The evening air was cold and sweet as she turned the corner onto Main Street and started down the Main Street hill. She took in a deep breath inhaling the salty air of the water and thought of Dan. She found that she felt a little sad. Of course she loved Dan and wanted to marry him, but all this fuss about the wedding was bothering her, and she felt tired. Usually a private person, it was disconcerting having strangers stop her in the street and tell her that she may want to wear a pale-pink lipstick or make sure to wear heels to float more elegantly down the aisle. Working in the flower shop didn’t help one bit. Her employer, Mrs. Bickerstaff, was using her as some sort of advertising campaign. She would tell customers choosing a bouquet for a friend or a wife, “Why don’t you try the dark-purple tulips? Flora’s considering going in that direction for her wedding.” Of course, she wasn’t, but it seemed to work great for Mrs. Bickerstaff. Not only would they buy the tulips, but they would then launch into their own ideas of what they thought Flora should do with them. It was really starting to wear her down.

  She sighed as she crossed Main Street and made her way up toward her cottage on the other side of town. She shuddered, a little uneasy. She felt as if someone was watching her. She loo
ked around quickly but couldn’t see anything out of place. She wasn’t usually jumpy . . . it was probably all the wedding details getting her down. She pulled her wrap a little closer around her as her cottage came into view. It was a bright clear evening the night sky scattered with a thousand stars overhead and was usually her favorite time of day. There were just a few people in the street walking their dogs or heading to the pub at the end of the town.

  She picked up her pace and reached into her bag for her key. She was glad to get through her little wrought iron gate and put the key in the lock. There it was again: that feeling that she was being watched. She placed the key quickly in the door and opened it.

  Instantly her cat, Mr. Darcy, entwined himself around her legs. She reached down to pick him up and froze. Somewhere in the house, something had dropped to the ground. She held Mr. Darcy close. Suddenly, the door to the kitchen flew open and there, standing in the doorway, was Dan. She let out the breath she had been holding.

  He beamed at her. “Busted.”

  She dropped Mr. Darcy to the floor and flung herself into Dan’s arms. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed him.

  He responded jovially. “I hope you don’t hug all of your burglars.”

  “Oh, I do,” Flora whispered into his neck. “I find it a very effective tool for disarming them. I’m just so glad I’m marrying you and not some landscaper that the Labettes have lined up.”

  He loosened her grip so he could look into her face, a curious expression on his own. “Did I miss something?”

  She answered him with a warm, soft kiss that expressed her deepest feelings. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in for a gentle hug.

  “Are you OK?” he asked as he rocked her gently in his arms. Having dated for two years, she knew he could sense when something was wrong.

  “Mm-hmm,” she murmured in a tone that seemed to convince him his first instinct had been right.