One Day Like This: A feel-good summer romance

by Laura Briggs

  “Natalie, where did you find it?” said Tessa. “It’s gorgeous! Tell me it didn’t cost more to rent than buying one of those wire garden arbors.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Natalie, confused. “I didn’t order the arbor yet. The shop was closed by the time I finished booking the limo.”

  “You mean you’re not responsible?” Tessa snapped a photo of it and texted it to Natalie’s phone. “It looks so much like the one in the picture I found online of Bianca’s village church. All that really gorgeous woodwork… it’s practically identical.” This one even looked antique, although well preserved.

  “It wasn’t me,” said Natalie. “I’ve never seen it before, I swear. Wow, though. Whoever owns it probably didn’t get it cheap.”

  “I have to call you back,” said Tessa. She hung up the phone and walked closer to the altar. What was it doing here? And could they rent it for a fee?

  Someone behind her cleared his throat. “I brought it here,” said Blake. He stood at the gate entrance, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. “I thought it might be a nice touch. For Bianca’s sake especially.”

  “You found this?” clarified Tessa. “How? Where?”

  “I had some free time,” said Blake. “I remembered the picture, so I contacted a few antique dealers I know. One of them specializes in woodwork and had some imported items from European churches, and from some old Scandinavian communities in America. From there, it just kind of fell into place.”

  “Things like this don’t turn up just anywhere,” she said.

  “Pennsylvania,” he said. “That’s where I found it. I drove there, picked it up in my truck, and did a little work to it.”

  “You drove all the way to Pennsylvania for this?” Tessa was awed.

  “It’s not all that far,” said Blake, in the dismissive tone of someone who drives a lot. Tessa guessed that the “junk” in the back of his truck must have come from all over the Eastern seaboard.

  “So simple,” she joked. “Anyone could have done it.”

  “He shrugged and said, “It was nothing a little sandpaper and woodwork experience couldn’t fix.”

  “This is beautiful,” said Tessa. “Really special. This”—she paused, words failing her— “is so much more than any of the rest of us could have done for this wedding.”

  “Not that.” Blake shook his head. “But I was happy to do it.”

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible,” said Tessa. “When you said you’d help us, I never meant you had to do anything this extraordinary… just say a few words to reassure Bianca that she had an experienced wedding planner on her side.”

  Blake’s smile was a little sheepish. “I’m not sure I accomplished that very well. But maybe this will help make up for it.”

  “I think she’ll be very impressed by this—more than by the advice of event planner Blake Ellingham,” said Tessa, hiding her smile.

  “Let’s hope so,” he answered.

  Tessa turned back to the altar. “In the meantime, I guess I had better find a safe place for this until the wedding,” she said.

  “I’ve got that covered. The apartment next to us is letting me store it in the basement,” he said. “They’ve got a locked cage down there for keeping valuable furniture safe. I just wanted to see how it looked in the yard first.” He wheeled a hand truck from against the building to lever one end of the altar, strapping it in place. “Plus, I wanted you to see it and be impressed.”

  “Being the over-the-top, glitzy wedding planner that I am?” said Tessa, lifting one eyebrow.

  “Don’t push your luck, Miss Miller. I could have this altar back in my truck in two minutes’ time.”

  “Sorry. Please don’t do that,” said Tessa. “I was only kidding.” Her lips threatened to form a smile again, but she managed to keep it inside until Blake was busy lifting the altar to move it.

  “Tessa, where did you find it?” The voice belonged to Molly, who had just arrived with Bianca and a friend. They were staring at the altar in Blake’s possession.

  “I didn’t, actually,” said Tessa. “The credit belongs entirely to Blake. He contacted a few friends in the antiques business and found the closest match he could. He even did the restoration work necessary to make it beautiful in time for the wedding.”

  “You did?” said Molly. “It’s amazing—I can’t believe you went to all that trouble.”

  “No trouble,” he assured them. “And no extra charge. Consider it my gift—to all of you.”

  “Ah, my! It looks just like one I remember as a child,” said Bianca, clasping her hands together as she examined it closely. “Just so. I used to run my fingers along its carving like this—always afraid that someone would tell me not to do it. Playing with God’s furniture.” She laughed. “Children can have such funny ideas.”

  “I had no idea you had so many contacts,” said Molly to Blake. “I never realized how handy it must be in your work to know people who can find this kind of stuff—make the past real again.”

  Neither did I, thought Tessa.

  “You are a man of many talents,” said Bianca. “First you help plan the wedding, then you help find flowers for Molly… and now you make the altar look so beautiful for her big day. What more could we ask?”

  Blake’s face had turned a deep crimson. “It was nothing, believe me,” he answered. “Add some flowers across the top and it’ll look as good as new.”

  “It already looks great,” said Molly. “Are you sure we need flowers?”

  “Maybe just a simple garland,” said Blake, studying the altar. “Just a little something to offset the wood’s simplicity. Add some greenery, maybe, since green is traditional for both Irish and Italian heritage. It won’t detract from it; it’ll actually enhance it—with the right choice, that is. Which will be up to Tessa here, who’s the expert.” He glanced at her, and Tessa felt a strange, pleasant tingle at these words: her as the expert. Those words hadn’t come from a real fellow wedding planner, but they felt good all the same.

  “It’ll look fabulous, I’m sure,” said Tessa. She touched Blake’s arm lightly. A warm smile crossed his lips in return. Flustered and confused suddenly, Tessa turned away, focusing on her clients again. “Let’s go over the layout for the chairs and for where Molly and Paolo are going to stand,” she said.

  She pulled out her plan for the ceremony to show Molly and Bianca, using a pencil to point out the position of the altar and the spot for the musician who would play the song for Molly’s wedding march. Behind her, she knew that Blake had made his exit through the side door before any more questions could be asked of him—about flowers, or anything else.

  Twenty-Seven

  “I can’t believe he did that for us,” said Ama. “What are we going to pay him? I mean, this is a lot more than just fixing some bad wires and putting the light switch plates back on. Even than installing the new oven element.”

  “We’ll have to figure out something,” said Tessa. “I don’t know what—we’re already in debt to him through next year, probably. Unless, of course, we land some really rich customers between now and then.”

  “I think we’ll need better advertising to achieve that goal,” said Ama. “Hand me that icing bag, will you?” she said, lifting another Irish spice cookie from her platter of unfinished ones.

  The days leading up to Molly and Paolo’s wedding had been filled with last-minute details and adjustments. The closer it came, the more nervous Bianca became about the big day, especially on the morning of the wedding.

  “What if it rains?” she said. “It is an outdoor wedding. Everyone would get wet—what would we do?”

  “We have a backup venue,” Tessa reassured her. “The church will let us move the ceremony to their sanctuary if the weather takes a turn for the worse.”

  “Some people say rain is good luck, but I don’t know,” said Bianca. “Maybe we should put brooms in the trees.”

  “Brooms?”

 
; “It wards off the rain. An old superstition. A friend of mine did it long ago when she got married. No rain that day, only sunshine, even though there were such big gray clouds in the sky!”

  “I think we’ll be okay without the brooms,” said Tessa gently.

  The Irish and Italian cookies and the mint and chocolate macaroons were perfectly nestled in wax paper, awaiting transport to the venue, along with the miniature dishes of Ama’s new brudlaupskling, made with thin sweet wafer layers, a thick cream and mascarpone sandwiched between them with a sweet berry syrup.

  “I think that’s everything,” said Ama, who was rushing around with an apron covering her pumpkin-colored salwar kameez. “The real challenge is getting the cake to the restaurant, and assembled, without having it collapse into an utter mess.”

  “I’ll help,” said Natalie, who put an apron on over her pink cocktail dress before she lifted the bakery boxes of cookies. “Is that a new dress?” she said, noticing the sparkly embroidery covering the top and trousers of Ama’s formal outfit. A pair of matching gold flower clips pinned her hair back from either side of her face.

  “It’s not mine,” said Ama, as she lifted two more boxes. “I borrowed it from my sister, who loves clothes. My only dress-up dress needs a trip to the cleaner’s.” She noticed her reflection in the glass panes of the window and hesitated. “Do I really look okay?” she asked doubtfully, making a slight face. “This isn’t exactly my style.”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” said Natalie. “Come on. We have to go. Let’s be careful with the cake, since there’s no backup for it.” The rear hatch of her brother’s Land Rover was open, letting them stack the boxes inside and brace them with some padding that Natalie had brought along.

  “Where’s Blake?” said Ama, lifting the box containing the bottom layer of the cake. “If he grabs one of these, we’ll be done.”

  “He’s not here today,” said Natalie. “He does have other jobs besides ours. And Tess is at the reception site, double-checking the setup. We’re supposed to meet her there, then we’re going to the Brentwood courtyard to check the ceremony’s setup.”

  The fourth partner was expected to come to the wedding and reception. After all, it would seem pretty odd to Bianca and her family if her beloved wedding planner didn’t show up for the event he’d supposedly worked hard to create. But Blake had never promised to be there in so many words. Technically, his pseudo-partners knew, their agreement was only good up to the wedding day, which meant he was free to resume his carpentry-only duties.

  “I left a suit on the back of the door,” said Natalie to Ama, as if reading her mind. “Just in case.” A nice tuxedo, freshly “borrowed” from the stash at Kandace’s. She had persuaded Cal to discreetly pick it up for her, with promises in return of tickets to next season’s Broadway road tour of West Side Story.

  “Be careful with that tiny box,” said Ama, as she lifted the last armful. “That’s the gilded decoration for the top of the cake.” She locked the side door of Wedding Belles behind them.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” said Natalie.

  * * *

  Despite Bianca’s fears, the wedding day dawned perfectly. Five minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, the limo arrived outside the courtyard’s gates, and the driver helped out Bianca first, who looked astonished at the sight of guests filling the chairs, and the altar decorated with sprays of flowers. On the fire escape balconies above, several of the couple’s friends were seated, waving to the groom’s grandmother.

  “I still can’t believe she actually convinced people in these buildings to let strangers sit outside their windows,” muttered Natalie, from her place near the back of the bride’s side of the aisle.

  “Love gets people to do strange things,” said Ama.

  Tessa had been waiting just outside the gate for the car to arrive. “Ready?” said Tessa. She took Bianca’s arm to help her to her seat in the front row. “You’ll want to see Molly come down the aisle in a moment.”

  A moment passed before the bridal music began, and the bride emerged from the car, her bouquet in hand. The dress looked even more stunning in daylight. In place of the traditional veil and flowers, Molly wore a gilded coronet set with several crystals and pearl beads. It had taken some extra search time—and a few minor alterations by Tessa, using some pearl beads and jewelry pins—to make sure it was worthy of the makeshift Norwegian wedding crown that had inspired it.

  As the violinist played a soft classical number, Molly walked down the red-carpeted aisle. She paused at its end before the wooden altar wreathed with pink roses and pale green boughs, the spot where Paolo and the minister were waiting. Natalie blushed as a few hushed, admiring whispers about the dress circulated from the back rows after Molly had reached the altar.

  From the sidelines, Tessa, Natalie, and Ama watched as the bride and groom exchanged their vows, then shared a kiss. Cheers erupted as the newly married couple followed the red carpet to the waiting car afterward, and from above, a shower of pink and white petals descended as the balcony guests began tossing the contents of their baskets. They landed on the happy couple, their guests, and the red carpet, in a soft, whirling flurry carried on the breeze. Tessa hoped that the photographer had snapped that moment from the limousine’s open sunroof, as she had requested. It would make a fantastic image for the couple’s album.

  “It was like snow,” said Bianca. “Snow falling from the rooftops. And Molly—she looked as beautiful as the actresses you see on the red carpet, just as Paolo said. More beautiful—she looked like an angel.”

  “That she did,” said Paolo, beaming at Molly beside him. Reaching down, he gently brushed a stray petal from Molly’s blonde hair, her coronet’s stones glinting in the sunlight as they posed for one more photo.

  The reception was already underway by the time the bride and groom arrived with Bianca. Tessa, who had arrived before the guests, was relieved to see that the cake had been transported in perfect shape, and was standing on its pillars in the middle of the table, as the restaurant’s staff arranged the buffet trays of cookies, the Italian wedding cake, the macaroons, and the sugared almonds. Two large flower arrangements flanked Ama’s three-layer creation in the middle.

  “Do we have enough champagne chilled?” Tessa asked the server who was pouring glasses for the first toast—outside, the limo was dropping off the bridal party at the front door. In a moment, they would make their grand entrance for their guests.

  “There’s plenty standing by,” Rick’s waiter assured her. “When you’re ready, the band will play the wedding march to announce them.” An acoustic trio with a guitarist, a violinist, and a bassist were providing the musical entertainment, from Italian love songs to Irish dance tunes. It was the perfect compromise, Tessa had decided.

  A second round of cheers came from the guests as the bride and groom entered the room. Toasts followed, the cake was sliced in a photograph-worthy moment, and the candied almonds began vanishing at an alarming rate from the buffet table as Tessa kept an eye on napkins, champagne glasses, and dessert plates.

  She smoothed her green party dress with one hand. Thus far, everything had gone perfectly except for a few little things, such as a broken folding chair that turned out to be an extra one, and a brief fumble with a macaroon by one of the guests that left crumbs on the carpet. As for her clients, they looked so happy—as if it really had been the wedding of their dreams.

  “So far so good,” said Natalie quietly, as she circulated with another iced tub of champagne. “Have you seen Ama?”

  “I think she’s being chatted up by somebody,” answered Tessa. “Who knew that being part of a wedding’s staff could be such a great social gateway?” The baker was currently cornered by an eager, chatty friend of the groom, who was not put off by her shy expression of obvious reluctance. Clearly, he wasn’t her type… unlike the handyman Blake, Tessa reflected. Not that it mattered, of course.

  “You know what they say about
weddings and romance,” said Natalie. “At least he’s cute. And at least she doesn’t have a date to complain about her drawing someone else’s attention.”

  “You didn’t have a date, which surprised me,” said Tessa.

  “I didn’t feel like inviting any of my paramours to share in the joyous occasion,” answered Natalie, with a toss of her head.

  As Tessa sneaked a candied almond from the fresh dish on the table, she spotted a familiar figure among the guests. Tall, dark, handsome, and wearing an Armani tux that resembled the kind of garments Natalie borrowed from the warehouse… wait—it wasn’t—?

  “Hi,” said Blake.

  “Hi,” said Tessa, trying not to sound as shocked as she felt.

  “I found this on the back of a door at the office,” he said. “I thought it might be the sort of thing a distinguished wedding planner would wear. Or maybe a handyman who wants to look nice for a friend’s wedding.” He smiled. “The tie’s crooked, though. I can never seem to get it right.”

  “I think it suits you that way,” Tessa replied. “It’s a good combination.” She tried hard to suppress the heat creeping into her cheeks now.

  “Are you here alone?” he asked. “No date for the big day?”

  The blush made its escape before Tessa could hide it. “As a matter of fact, I thought it would be more appropriate to stay focused on the event in a professional capacity. So I came alone.”

  “So did I,” said Blake. “A stunning coincidence, don’t you agree?”

  They both laughed—awkward and nervous, Tessa thought. She tried hard to keep from blushing again.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” she said. “I mean—when you didn’t show up at the wedding. I was going to tell Bianca you were busy with the next client already.”

  “I didn’t want her to be disappointed,” he answered. “But I figured that the big moment belonged to you alone. The real wedding planner and all. I didn’t want to steal that glory by accident.”