Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2)

by Howe, Violet

  "Yes ma'am." I struggled to hold onto my euphoria.

  "Your brother made the honor roll. I don't think you ever did make honor roll at college, did you? Course, you quit. So I'm sure you would have made it eventually, you know, if you had stuck it out. He's still dating that huzzy of a girl. She don't like me none. And I don't care not one bit. He'll see through her eventually. Lord, I hope he don't marry her. I can't even imagine—"

  "I'm going to Paris, Mama!" I blurted out my news without really thinking it through.

  "What? Paris? Like Paris, France? Well, Lord have mercy on my soul! When did this come about?"

  "Last night. Cabe is taking me to Paris for my birthday." I realized I may have just handed her a grenade that could blow up in my face, but it was too late. I had already pulled the pin.

  "What? He's taking you to Paris? You mean he's paying for the trip? Well, that surely doesn't sound like just a friend to me."

  "Well, we've sort of been…dating." Even if I didn't have a definition for it, what we had been doing would constitute dating to my mama. Although I didn't know if she would take me going to Paris with a man better if she thought we were dating or if she thought we were just friends. I cringed in anticipation of her response.

  "I knew it! I knew it! I told your Aunt Debbie all along you was dating him. I knew it!"

  "No, we weren't. It's just kind of happened since New Year’s."

  "And all this time you telling me you weren't interested. But I knew it. I didn't have any doubt. I knew in my heart he was the one for you."

  "Mama, you've been telling me the man was gay for five years."

  "Why, I did no such thing! Tyler Lorraine, how dare you. I have said no such thing."

  I didn't want to argue with her, and I knew it would do no good if I did. "So his mom's friend is a travel agent, and she's going to find us a good hotel and stuff. We're gonna leave the Thursday before my birthday and come back on Sunday. Just a weekend trip."

  "Well, a weekend in Paris sure sounds romantic. Are you using protection?"

  "Mama!"

  "Like you're gonna tell me you're going to Paris with this man and y'all ain't having sex."

  "Oh, my Lord. We are not having this conversation."

  There would never ever be a day that I wanted to have this conversation with my mother. She had never so much as mentioned sex to me my entire life, and I surely didn't want to change that now.

  "You can't be naive, Tyler, and neither can I. The world is a scary place and you need to make wise choices."

  "Mama, it's not like that. We're not sleeping together." Why I felt the need to prolong the conversation in the slightest by giving her that information I will never know.

  "Well, what are you waiting for?"

  "What? Oh good grief. I'm gonna hang up now."

  "You listen to me, missie. I loved your daddy like he hung the moon, but between you and me it wasn't all that."

  "La-la-la-la-la. I so do not want to hear this, Mother." Just the thought of her and Daddy doing the nasty caused instant nausea.

  "I'm just saying. I watch all these movies and hear all these songs, and I have to think there wouldn't be so many people going crazy about it if there wasn't more to it than what I've experienced. Your daddy was a good man, honey, but I've read a lot of romance novels, and I can tell you right now I've never spiraled to the heights of ecstasy and floated back down seeing stars. So I ain't saying you need to throw your ankles behind ya ears for any ole Joe walkin' by, but if you've got feelings for this man enough to fly across the ocean with him, you might want to make sure he knows what he's doing in that department."

  I couldn't believe my devoutly religious mother was actually telling me to sleep with a man I wasn't married to. It wasn't something I cared to discuss, though. Nor was I going to mention I'd basically thrown myself at the man and begged only to have him tell me no.

  "Baby Girl, if I had it to do over again, I'd a roller skated, and danced, and smoked. I'd a worn short skirts and slept with every man that wanted to."

  "Mama, I'm gonna puke. Please stop talking about sex!"

  She cackled. "What? You think your mama didn't ever turn a head? Where you think you and your sisters got those looks of yours? I was a stunner in my day."

  "I know you were. And this has been a real eye-opener for me, but I'm gonna hang up now. And go join a convent, I do believe."

  She laughed again. "Aw, honey, don't be like that. Make sure you let me know where you're staying. Flight numbers, too. I won't be able to sleep between now and then thinking about you crashing in the ocean."

  "Why, thank you. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Bye now. I gotta go."

  "When can I meet him?"

  I shook my head violently from side to side in immediate resistance to that idea.

  "I don't know. We'll have to see. Bye. Love you."

  I don't know what got into my mama, but if she's going to start asking details about my sex life, that may be the best reason yet to put off sleeping with Cabe.

  Saturday, January 18th

  I had a small wedding this morning. Only fifty guests. Ceremony at a church and then brunch at a small golf club. For the first time probably ever, I didn't want to be there. Cabe and I fell asleep on the couch last night, and he woke me up carrying me to bed sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

  I left him sleeping this morning, and I so didn't want to leave. Didn't want to be away from him. He was off today, and I had to be at work, which irritated me beyond belief. I just wanted this wedding to be done and over with.

  When the bride and groom came back down the aisle as husband and wife, I waved them into the holding room and told them I'd be back to get them shortly.

  I grabbed the basket of white rose petals that would be tossed for their exit and thrust it in front of the wedding party as they came through the double doors, blocking them long enough to give them directions.

  "I want you to line up on either side of the sidewalk outside as you go toward the limo. Take a handful of these and then toss them as the bride and groom exit."

  We actually call it a ‘staged exit’ in the office because the bride and groom aren't really leaving. They just get in the limo and take a ride around the block so I can herd all the well-wishers into their own cars and send them to the reception. Pictures go much faster if you don't have fifty people standing around flashing their own camera bulbs and offering suggestions to the professional photographer about who should be in photos and how they should be posed.

  I repeated my spiel over and over today as the guests filed out of the church, trying not to sound like a pre-recorded robot voice. I smiled and made eye contact and pretended to be thrilled to be a part of their day.

  "Please take a handful and line up on either side of the pathway to celebrate our bride and groom as they exit."

  Some people daintily picked up about five rose petals. Others dug in and snatched fistfuls like it was free money and they had one shot to get all they could.

  A few people refused to take any at all. That usually happens any time we pass out something for a staged exit, whether it's bubbles, rose petals, birdseed, whatever. They act like it's a scam, and they're wary of participation. Like there's a fine-print catch and it's going to cost them something in the end if they take a handful. Or maybe I just look untrustworthy.

  It's not a big deal if they don't take any, but it irks me. That need to go against the process and throw a kink in the carefully laid plans irritates me. I want to tell them I'm not standing there for my own health and profit, and that I'm actually passing out stuff because it's what the bride and groom wanted.

  Today, my basket had nearly emptied of petals as I passed through the guests lined up along the sidewalk. A tall, slender empty-handed guest in a navy suit reached toward the basket, his expression somewhat tentative and uncertain. He’d refused my offer before, and I held full eye contact to drive home that I knew he thought I was selling oceanfront propert
y in Kansas when he passed me by with a suspicious glance.

  "Can I get some?" He hesitated and pulled his hand back a teensy bit as he asked, put off, I'm sure, by the arrogant, knowing look I shot him. I nodded slightly as I extended the basket toward him, like a queen granting a pardon. Yes, I can acknowledge the inherent bitchiness in my attitude, but sometimes working with the public just brings it out of you. And since it happens every single time we do an exit, it has long since gotten old.

  He smiled a bit wider as his face turned red. "I thought they were potato chips before, so I didn't take any."

  What the hell?

  Why would I stand at the exit of a wedding ceremony and pass out potato chips? No napkin or plate. Just reach on into this fancy white wicker basket and grab yourself a handful of greasy potato chips.

  Like, here's your chips. There's dip in the parking lot.

  Why?

  Why would I have a random basket of potato chips? At a freakin' wedding ceremony? And why on God's green earth would I be asking people to toss potato chips at the bride and groom as they exited?

  I honestly think working in customer-service-oriented fields can make you hate people. Especially the dumb ones. Every time I begin to chastise myself for thinking such nasty thoughts, someone comes along like Potato Chip Guy and does or says something so stupid I just can't get past it.

  Cabe had left by the time I got home, and when I called he was at his buddy Dean's playing video games. So I went to Carmen's for dinner. I've really missed our trusty office assistant since she went out on maternity leave, so I had fun playing with baby Lila and catching up with Carmen, but my thoughts never strayed far from Cabe.

  When we're apart now, I feel like a piece of me is missing. I wonder if he feels the same way.

  He texted me to call him when I got home, but he was still out playing when I called, so we'll talk tomorrow. Looks like it's just me and Roscoe in the bed tonight. At least it still smells like Cabe's cologne.

  I'm so pathetically in love.

  Sunday, January 19th

  Spent the day at his mom's house today. I worried Galen might be there, but she and Tate had gone to Miami for the weekend. If Maggie shares her daughter's vehement disapproval of me, she didn't let on today. If it shocked her to see us kissing and nuzzling on the couch, she never showed it. She acted the same as always. Fussing over whether or not we had enough to eat, cracking jokes, ribbing Cabe, and providing her unique commentaries on whatever movies we watched.

  The day was comfortable. Natural. Like I was part of the family.

  We had gone back to the pool house after the last movie, and I was sitting on the bar counter with Cabe standing between my knees, sliding his hands up and down my back as we kissed. The counter put me at a perfect height for us to be face to face with my arms draped around his neck.

  "Do you have any idea how happy you make me?" Cabe asked.

  I shrugged and shook my head. "No."

  He laughed and wrapped me in his arms. "I just can't get enough of you."

  "Really?" I grinned, my face just inches from his.

  "Yes, really! Are you kidding me? I have truly never been happier than I am right now."

  I arched my eyebrows and smirked, his admission catching me off-guard and filling me with a shy giddiness.

  He lifted his hands through my hair and cupped my cheeks. "You're happy, right?"

  "Yes." I grinned from ear to ear. "Blissfully so."

  He kissed me again, soft and sweet this time, and when he pulled back to look at me, I just knew he was going to tell me he loved me. It was like the perfect time. I was all ready to say it back, too, but instead of professing undying love, he asked if I wanted to stay over. I should have said yes. Everything in me screamed yes, but my head couldn't get past his mom being in the house next door with my car in her driveway all night. My mama may be telling me it's okay to sleep with him, but I don't know that his mama would be on board with that. I still remember how mortified I was when Maggie walked in the pool house and found me in Cabe's bed a couple of months ago. Fully clothed, of course, but I still felt like a skank slipping out past her. We may be grown adults, but she's still his mama.

  So I'm home alone in my own bed tonight. Again. Happy and content, though. Happy to know I make him happy.

  Thursday, January 23rd

  Well, I guess statistically it had to happen. I mean, if you keep doing weddings, eventually you're gonna have one, right?

  They were a nice enough couple. Priscilla seemed a bit dominating. Neal seemed a bit dominated. It was just a small ceremony with the two of them, her parents, and her two teenage kids, who could not have acted more bored if they tried.

  When I met them last night at the rehearsal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Laidback. Easy-going. No frou-frou.

  I got to the lake early this morning to make sure the flowers were set and the sand had been raked. I admit I was dragging. Cabe and I went dancing after my rehearsal last night and didn't come in until almost three. A stupid choice, I know, but I was having a blast at the time and didn't want it to end. He ended up sleeping over, which he's done the last three nights. I still don't sleep well when he's in bed next to me, laying there all sensually male. So at some point, I really need to get some rest.

  Or some relief, whichever comes first.

  I sent the limo back for Neal while I tucked Priscilla and her dad out of sight in the ladies room and took her mom and the kids down to the ceremony area.

  Neal's hotel was a five-minute drive, tops, and I had already spoken with him and confirmed he would be out front waiting. So when twenty minutes had passed without the limo, I started to worry.

  I called the driver twice but got no answer. I tried Neal's phone. No answer. Ten more minutes went by and Priscilla's dad came out of the ladies room and found me in the parking lot.

  "What's the hold-up?"

  "Just waiting for the limo," I answered. I smiled and gave what I hoped was a reassuring nod. "Must be tied up in traffic."

  "Traffic? The hotel's at the light. Where would there be traffic between here and there?"

  There wouldn't.

  "Um, maybe the limo had to go down and make a U-turn at the next light."

  I was grasping at straws and he knew it. He arched an eyebrow at me and said, "And why, pray tell, would he do that?"

  I shook my head and smiled again. "Not sure."

  "Have you called him?"

  I nodded. "Maybe I'll call him again, though. If you'll excuse me." I took a couple of steps away from him, but he tagged right along behind me. It didn't matter since I got no answer.

  Priscilla yelled behind us. "What's going on, Dad?"

  "He ain't here yet," her father bellowed.

  Her mother came across the grass and into the parking lot.

  "Where is he?" They all looked to me like I knew the answer and was just hiding it from them.

  "I don't know."

  "Can't you call the limo driver?"

  "I have. He's not answering."

  Priscilla's dad shoved his hands in his pockets and spit on the ground. I didn't know if he had tobacco in his mouth or if it was his statement on the turn of events.

  "So call the limo company!" Priscilla's mom turned to her husband and back to me, her hands spread out in exasperation. "Do something."

  I dialed the main number for the transportation company and asked if they had another number for the driver. Nope.

  "This is ridiculous," Priscilla yelled from the bathroom door. "You lost my groom. How on earth does someone lose a groom?"

  "We don't know if they're lost. The limo driver is just not answering. There could be a perfectly good explanation."

  "Oh yeah?" her dad asked. "And what would that be?"

  I turned toward Priscilla, who was heading our way. "Have you checked your phone? Perhaps Neal called."

  She screamed at the kids to bring her phone, and they both came running up from the beach.

  Th
ey had almost reached us when the driver's name came up on my caller ID.

  "Quentin! Where are you?"

  "Um, it's a long story, Tyler."

  "What? Where are you? Where's Neal?" The entire family leaned close behind me straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

  "At the airport."

  "What? The–" I turned to their shocked faces and smiled. "If you'll excuse me just a minute."

  I walked a few steps away and whispered into the phone, "Why the hell is he at the airport, Quentin?"

  "He told me he couldn't go through with it. He offered me five hundred dollars to take him to the airport, and I refused. He walked over to the valet and asked for a taxi. I've been trying to talk him out of it, but he just got in a cab and left. He gave me a note for the bride, but I wanted to call and let you know what went down. You want me to bring the note and come pick all them up?"

  I was stunned. Not something I wanted to explain to a bride on her wedding day.

  "Yes, Quentin. Please come as quickly as you can." I put the phone back in my pocket and sighed. "Um, Priscilla. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  "Whatever you need to say can be said in front of us," her mother said. Priscilla nodded, and I took a deep breath.

  "Okay. I'm not sure what's happened, but Neal took a cab to the airport."

  Priscilla's dad let loose a streak of curse words that would make a sailor blush. Her mom burst into tears and gathered both teens up into her arms, but they both looked more amused than upset.