One Day Like This: A feel-good summer romance

by Laura Briggs

  “We’re doing our best,” said Tessa. “So long as you’re happy, we’re happy.”

  “So long as it’s the best, I’m happy,” declared Bianca. “Only the best for the two people I love most.” She lifted her glass to the young couple at the table. “I am so glad that Mr. Ellingham told me about the best flower shop. They have a pretty bouquet for Molly that made her happy.”

  “He told you about the flower shop?” Tessa glanced at Blake, who was eating his mutton with more polite table manners than the way he consumed his lunch-hour sandwich during the renovation work. He smiled at her over his wine glass, with a subtle wink that was quick enough that no one else would notice it.

  “Of course I did,” he said. “I’m always on top of things, right? Only the best for our clients.”

  “Yes. I mean… you had said you planned to, of course,” she said quickly. “ I just didn’t realize you took care of it already.” For a moment, Tessa held Blake’s gaze from across the table. Something felt easy and natural about this mutual link, until the loud clank of someone’s silverware jarred her back to the present moment. Quickly Tessa turned her attention elsewhere by heaping some more horseradish on to her plate—not her favorite, but it was the handiest serving dish in reach.

  “I can’t wait to show you the designs for the cake,” said Ama to Molly. “I think you’ll like it. It’s something different, but it’s really pretty. We think we can build a theme around it for your wedding dessert table, with the cookies and the macaroons, and a few Irish treats I’m creating.”

  “That sounds like a lot of food for only a few guests,” remarked Paolo.

  “What do you mean ‘a few guests’?” asked Bianca. “You will have all your friends there, and all my friends.”

  “But Gran, why?” said Paolo with a laugh. “Molly and I don’t have a lot of people who are dying to come to our wedding—”

  “Says you,” retorted his grandmother, with a grasp of English semantics that surpassed her usual standards. “Everybody who knows you thinks you and Molly are nice people. The people who love you will want to see your happy day.”

  “We’ll see,” said Paolo. But Bianca frowned.

  “I have done the invitations already,” she announced. “The print shop near the grocery, they took them off the computer for me. The ones that Molly had put there,” she added, referring to the template Molly had been working on for the wedding invitations. She had shown it to Tessa when they had tea at Bianca’s apartment—a pretty but simple design with a floral branch like a woodblock print. Molly planned to print them off at her own home using a special gloss paper from her design supplies, but she kept a copy on Bianca’s rarely used laptop in case she needed to work on it during one of her visits.

  To think Bianca had actually taken the laptop to a print shop and explained to them about the template for the invitations—she must be more technologically savvy than Tessa would have imagined.

  “But Gran,” Molly was saying, “you couldn’t have mailed them. We don’t even have a place picked for the wedding yet. I left that part of the invitation blank.” She and Paolo were exchanging anxious glances as the rest of the guests waited to hear Bianca’s reply.

  “I took care of that, too,” Bianca said with a dismissive wave. “I went to that place I showed you, the place with the ceiling like starlight? It was just as beautiful as the picture. They told me we can have the wedding and reception there! So it is all taken care of now.”

  The NiteLite. Tessa’s heart sank, remembering the steep prices she had promised Paolo they would never accept. Keeping her voice as calm as possible, she asked their client, “How many people did you invite, Bianca?”

  “Oh, plenty,” Bianca said, as if to reassure them. Turning back to Paolo, she added, “I sent them to all the names on your list. I had the people from the neighborhood, and your cousins, too. They will be so happy for you, just like I am.”

  “But—but that must be fifty or more, Gran,” said Molly worriedly. “We weren’t going to mail all of those. Some were just going to be extras for passing out to my clients as samples.”

  “Well, I needed them all,” Bianca insisted. “I put the money in the postman’s box and he brought me plenty of stamps. I put them on the envelopes while I watched the game show on TV. I thought the whole time what a lovely surprise it will be for both of you.”

  She was beaming and clearly expected her grandson and Molly to share her enthusiasm. But their silence and worried glances told her otherwise and her smile seemed to vanish as she told them, “It doesn’t make you happy, though. I thought you would be so pleased.”

  “Oh, Gran, why didn’t you wait?” said Paolo. “How will we ever pay for a place like that? Or enough food for so many people?”

  “You don’t worry about that,” said Bianca. “I worry about it. I’m the one who is going to buy those things for you.”

  Tessa could see the frustration in Paolo’s face; Molly’s expression was equally upset. “You know how we feel about you paying for the wedding,” said Paolo, after a moment. “It’s not right. Molly and I have a little money set aside, and that’s what we’re planning to use.”

  Bianca’s face lost its color. “But I told you,” she said. “I told you I was going to give you the wedding. You said you would let me.”

  “But I meant just some things for it,” said Paolo. “Not Molly’s dress, or big reception halls. I meant small stuff, because we can’t afford anything more.”

  “Please, Gran,” said Molly. “We appreciate that you want to do this for us, we really do. But it’s time to face the fact that we can’t afford much more than this dress and the cake.”

  Bianca slapped her napkin down on the table. “I can pay!” she said forcefully. “I have saved for this—I have saved my money—your grandfather has sacrificed and saved for this day—”

  “He sacrificed and saved so you could be comfortable during your retirement,” protested Paolo. “That’s what his pension is for. I don’t want it spent on frivolous things for me.”

  “Your wedding day is not frivolous,” said Bianca. Her voice trembled. “Not to me. It is important and should be celebrated. It won’t come again, Paolo. You will only have this chance. It should be more important to you than it is to me. So I am going to use the money to pay for this day, whether you want it or no.”

  “It’s a tin box of change, Gran.” For the first time, Paolo’s voice rose. “It won’t pay for luxuries—it won’t pay for half the things that you want. And I won’t spend all of my and Molly’s savings to do it, Gran. That’s final.”

  As if realizing he was too emotional, he fell quiet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Gran, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to protect you.”

  Bianca shook her head. “You don’t understand how important it is,” she said.

  “I do, believe me,” said Paolo. “I’m sorry. I think—I think I need some air.” He laid his napkin on the table and rose. “Excuse me, everybody.” He offered an apologetic smile, although his heart wasn’t in it.

  “Paolo, wait,” said Molly, but he had already left the dining area. “He’s just a little tired,” she explained to everyone. “I’ll go talk to him. He’ll be back as soon as he’s had some time to think.” She patted Bianca’s hand. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.” She followed Paolo from the room.

  Blake cleared his throat. “Maybe we should go,” he suggested. “Give your family some space—”

  Bianca shook her head. “Stay,” she insisted. “They will come back in a few minutes. Paolo… he is just afraid for me. No matter how I tell him not to worry, he does anyway.” Her hands shook too as she lifted her silverware again.

  Tessa felt reluctant to leave, as did everyone else, since it would only embarrass Bianca to have everyone disappear from her table. Blake picked at the vegetables on his plate, while Natalie pretended momentarily to study a picture on the wall. Ama pushed a smile to her lips.

  “This sp
inach and lentil dish is really delicious,” said Ama to Bianca. “Could I have the recipe?”

  Before the meal was finished, Paolo and Molly had returned, both with polite smiles for the rest of the dinner guests to conceal their obvious worries. Tessa wanted to pull them aside and assure them she could fix this somehow, but there was no opportune moment for it. She didn’t want to hurt Bianca’s feelings if she overheard them, either. It would have to wait until tomorrow, when feelings had cooled off for all parties involved.

  Nobody talked about the cost of wedding venues for the rest of dinner, as Bianca served dessert: sweet berries and whipped cream piled high in cut-glass bowls. Instead, Molly talked about her latest client’s design, and Paolo told stories about his grandfather first teaching him to make pasta, which led to plenty of stories about family and food.

  “You must come again,” said Bianca, pressing Blake’s hand between her own. “I want to hear all about the good wedding ideas you have for my Paolo and Molly. You have said so little tonight—you are so quiet when you are working, Mr. Ellingham.”

  “A wedding planner’s brain works that way,” said Blake, after a moment’s pause to absorb her remark—no doubt searching for words that wouldn’t sound either moronic or egotistical. “You have to think of your clients every second until they’re happy.”

  “That is good.” She patted his hand before letting him go. “You are so very talented. Stella’s son’s lovely wedding must have made you very proud.”

  “I…” Blake caught Tessa’s eye. “I think the credit goes to the team, not the person who’s supposedly the lead. They’re the ones who inspire the best ideas.” With one last smile for Bianca—and, for a brief second, Tessa, too—he crossed the threshold to the hall outside.

  “Thanks for the recipe,” said Ama, tucking it into her pocket. “Even my mom might like this one, and she never likes anything that isn’t home cuisine.” She stepped aside as Paolo slipped on Molly’s coat and gave his grandmother a goodnight kiss before leaving.

  Tessa was the last guest left. She was stacking the plates from the table, scraping the last of the fish and the vegetables onto the last one. “It was really nice of you to have us to dinner,” she said. “You went to a lot of trouble, cooking all these dishes for us.”

  “No trouble,” said Bianca. “Though I have not cooked so much in a long time. Only when Paolo sometimes comes to dinner—but he has been a busy young man for a long time now.” She snuffed the candles in the table’s centerpiece. “He thinks I am making too much fuss over this wedding, perhaps, but someday he will understand. When he is my age and looks back, he will understand it was worth it.”

  “Maybe so,” Tessa said.

  But right now, if she were Paolo, she would regret ever trusting Bianca—or the Wedding Belles, for that matter—with any part of this wedding.

  Nineteen

  “Natalie, could you restock the pink and red camisoles by the window display? We sold out yesterday, but there’s still a few in the back.”

  “Sure, Allyson.” Natalie gave her new boss a smile on her way to the back room.

  Her job at Dress for Less had its perks, namely that it was part-time, leaving plenty of room for class and her work at Wedding Belles. It was also insanely dull for the most part, and the stock room was both dank and a little creepy, though Natalie wasn’t as weirded out by the half-dressed mannequins as the rest of her coworkers—unless she was helping do inventory at night. Then it felt like they might suddenly come to life and try to strangle her, like the villains in a scene out of a Doctor Who episode.

  Retail. That was the bottom level in the fashion industry, a veritable nightmare for half the people she knew from the design world. Right now, every one of them would say she was crazy for leaving Kandace, despite her awful designs.

  Her phone buzzed as she searched the shelf for the camisoles. Pulling it out, she checked the screen to find a new message from Tessa:

  No refund. Meet me at office ASAP.

  No refund what?

  The venue. Said no.

  Great. Just great. So Molly and Paolo were stuck with the big, expensive wedding venue Bianca had booked without their permission. Natalie let out a sigh and pocketed her phone again, grabbing a stack of camisoles from an open cardboard box. She arranged them in the window display, where a fifty percent off sign drew the eye of two teenagers passing on the sidewalk. Dress for Less definitely had more business than Kandace’s shop.

  “Heading to lunch, Natalie? A couple of us are going to that pizza-by-the-slice shop, if you want to come,” her coworker Ramona offered, as she and the new cashier clocked out of the break room.

  “Thanks, but I have plans,” Natalie answered, shouldering her tote bag. A few bridal magazines were sticking out of the top, along with a folder full of clippings and sketches. She tucked them out of sight before anyone could ask about them, making her way to the exit as she checked the time on her phone again.

  * * *

  “You picked up gelato?” Tessa sounded incredulous as Natalie unpacked the carton from its brown paper bag. “I text you for an emergency meeting and your first thought is gelato? Tell me how that’s possible.”

  “Why not?” Ama said. “I brought fresh-baked gingersnaps. Although, I’m not sure how they’ll taste with Strawberry Delight,” she added, studying the label on the carton Natalie had bought on the way there.

  “How can you two be focused on sweets at a time like this?” Tessa demanded.

  Natalie and Ama exchanged glances before saying, almost in unison, “Comfort food.”

  “It’s kind of a tradition in big, close-knit families,” Natalie added, by way of explanation. “Someone’s happy; you feed them. They’re sad; you feed them. They need some advice—”

  “You feed them,” Tessa finished, rolling her eyes. But she was smiling now, though it was only a tiny one. Natalie suspected she had cried earlier that morning, since her eyes were a little bit red, along with the tip of her nose. Tessa would claim it was allergies if she asked her, though, so it seemed better to pretend she didn’t notice.

  “So what now?” Ama asked, once they had settled into place on the various kitchen stools and chairs. Blake had a few errands to run, apparently, so their building was free of construction zone chaos for a change.

  “Now,” Tessa answered her, “we hope against hope the NiteLite has a sudden change of heart. Though I’m not sure the manager actually has one of those, so that’s probably not happening. To them, it’s a done deal.”

  “Did you tell them it was tantamount to robbery?” Natalie asked, digging a spoon into her gelato with ferocity. “Taking advantage of sweet, well-meaning customers like Bianca is hardly a great advertisement for your supposedly swanky business.”

  “He claims she was insistent about what she wanted,” Tessa replied. “Knowing Bianca, I couldn’t really argue with that part of that story.”

  Ama shook her head. “Poor Molly and Paolo are probably wishing they had eloped by now.”

  “I’m starting to wish it, too,” Tessa sighed. “Believe me, I tried every argument I could think of, but the manager wasn’t budging. All I got was an offer to cancel their reservation. And that didn’t seem like the smartest move, since Bianca had paid a twenty percent deposit.”

  Natalie’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me she actually paid that much? I can’t believe she had enough to cover something like that, honestly. I mean, can you even fit that much money into a biscuit tin?”

  “She probably emptied her checking account for it,” Tessa guessed, crumbling a gingersnap in frustration. “If she even has anything left, it’s probably just the change in a biscuit tin. We have our work cut out for us if we’re going to keep our promise to Paolo about protecting his grandmother’s savings before he and Molly tie the knot.”

  “Speaking of Paolo,” said Natalie, “how did he take the news?”

  Tessa groaned at the memory of her phone call with the would-be groom. “Not
great. He got really quiet for a while and just when I thought we’d been disconnected, he said they would find some way to pay for it. He sounded really upset. I feel so guilty this even happened.”

  “Why? It’s not your fault Bianca went behind everyone’s back to surprise them,” said Natalie.

  “Maybe it is, though,” said Tessa.

  The other two just stared at her. With a shrug, she pushed her bowl aside and said, “Think about it. If I had just found the right venue for their wedding, none of this would have happened. But my instincts have been off this whole time. I’m not picking up the signals that tell me how to make this event as meaningful as possible for Molly and Paolo. I might as well be throwing darts at a board when I’m making suggestions for their wedding.”

  She let out a sigh and mumbled, “If only Stefan hadn’t taken that job in Paris.”

  “Are you kidding?” Natalie laughed. “He would have bankrupted them by now, planning ‘Cinderella’s Wedding: Part Two.’ Rolling right along with every one of Bianca’s air-castle dreams. We can at least save them money on everything else, even if the venue is out of our control now.”

  “That’s true,” said Ama. “We’re getting them a great deal on the food and flowers so far. And that photographer you found sounded really promising.”

  “He is,” Tessa assured them. “He’s really talented, based on the work I saw. It’s just me who’s the problem.”

  “What about me?” Natalie countered. “I haven’t found the right dress for Molly yet. I’ve searched every boutique in town and everything is either the wrong style or the wrong price so far.”

  “We both know how you could solve that.”

  Natalie’s face grew hot with this sly accusation from Tessa. She spooned another bite of her rapidly melting gelato. “I’m making Bianca’s. Deal’s a deal.”