Authors: Kristin Wallace
Marry Me (5 page)
Julia smiled. “Hello. You must be the manager. I'm Julâ”
“You're late.”
She reared back. “Excuse me?”
Ichabod looked down over his long, hawkish nose. “I realize you undoubtedly feel it's acceptable to make people wait where you come from, but here in Covington Falls we have the courtesy to keep our appointments in a timely manner.”
Oh, now this was too much! She was getting etiquette lessons from a guy who looked as though he belonged in a funeral parlor?
“Listen, Ichy, I've been literally thrown into this in the last week, so you can take your scowls and lectures and shove âem up yourâ”
“Hello there!”
They both turned as a tall, slender young woman hurried toward them. Her cap of chin-length, ink-black hair bounced as she approached. As she got closer, Julia could see violet eyes shining out of a heart-shaped face. Wow, she was gorgeous. Like a runway model. Moved like one, too.
Ichabod apparently agreed because he visibly softened. “Devon,” he said.
“Roger, you old sweetheart, you're not giving the new girl a hard time, are you?” Devon drawled in a perfectly genteel Southern accent.
He flushed. “I was explaining about the importance of keeping to the schedule. As you know, the slightest delay can throw off the entire day.”
This last part was directed at Julia with the looking-down-his-nose move he seemed to have perfected.
“Roger, stop teasing her. She's here helping our dear Sarah, after all,” Devon said, sending a discreet wink Julia's way.
Roger cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, you're right.”
Model girl turned to Julia. “I'm Devon, the caterer. You must be Julia. Sarah called me last night and told me you'd be on your own here. Said I was to make sure you didn't drown in the sea of chaos.”
Feeling as though she was reaching for a life preserver, Julia took the outstretched hand. “I think I love you.”
Devon laughed. “Oh, I can tell I'm going to like you. Come on. Let's get this shindig up and running. My people are waiting to bring everything in.”
“Your people?”
“It's only four people,” Devon said, with a chuckle. “But this is Covington Falls, after all.”
“Thanks for helping with Ichabod back there,” Julia said as they walked away.
“Ichabod?” Devon asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion.
“
Sleepy Hollow?
Headless horseman?”
Devon threw back her head and laughed. “It certainly fits.”
“I wasn't getting off to a very good start with him.”
“Well, I know what it's like to be the new girl in town. The outsider.”
Julia stopped. “Wait a minute. Betsy was telling me about you. You're the wunderkind chef from Chicago.”
“I don't know about wunderkind, but I am from Chicago.”
“You were using a Southern accent back there. A good one.”
“I found it helped me get further in this town if I went all Southern Belle on them,” Devon said, violet eyes flashing. “Sugar works down here. They dump it in their tea and smother each other with it in their conversation.”
Devon's people were indeed waiting at the loading dock out back. Two men and two women. The guys looked to be around mid-twenties. The women were older, probably mid-forties.
“Okay, everyone, this is Julia,” Devon said. “She's going to be in charge today. Julia, this is my team. George, Kevin, Maria, and Sandra. Guys, Julia is new in town, so help her out if she starts to look lost.” She turned to Julia once more. “I have to get to the kitchen. Will you be okay now?”
“Absolutely,” Julia said, with a big fake smile. Maybe if she said it enough times it might be true.
Devon shook her head and touched Julia's shoulder. “Holler if you need anything.”
Julia resisted the urge to chase her newfound friend down, but she didn't even get a chance to breathe before Roger approached. Trailing in his wake was a severe-looking woman in a navy business suit.
“This is Ellen Simmons, our Events Coordinator,” Roger intoned. “She'll be in charge of the staff and setup in the room.”
She held out her hand. “Hi. I'm Julâ”
“I know who you are,” Ellen responded.
Roger spun on his heels and glided away, leaving Julia with the ever-so-cheerful Ellen Simmons. Ellen gave an impression of a smile as she turned.
Julia smiled right back. She opened the folder and pulled out the diagram with all the squares and circles. “I'm guessing this will make more sense to you than it does to me.”
Ellen barely glanced at the paper. “I met with Sarah last week, and we finalized the setup. I wrote everything down, so there's no need for your little paper. My staff has already been briefed on their duties today.”
“How convenient.”
“We are most efficient here at the Covington Falls Country Club.”
“Too bad they forgot to teach you how to smile at whatever boot camp they sent you to,” Julia muttered under her breath.
“I'm sorry?”
Julia held the big, fake smile for all she was worth. “I said, we'd best be getting on with this. Why don't you get started in here? Then I need to go call a bride about a hairdo.”
The Master Plan indicated Julia was supposed to call the hairdressers to confirm Maureen Ashley had made it to her appointment. Julia tried to call on her cell, but for some reason couldn't get any reception. Typical. So, she went off in search of a landline. Locating said landline meant she had to ask Roger. He gave a long-suffering sigh before leading her to his office. She'd have to look into a satellite phone, since cell reception was proving to be spotty in Covington Falls.
Julia dialed the number and then waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, someone picked up. “Cut & Dye Salon. This is Melinda-Sue.”
The voice dripped with Southern charm. In the background Julia could hear what sounded like three dozen women squealing and chattering like black birds on a telephone line.
“I'm working with Marry Me. My name is Julâ”
“Oh, my goodness, you're the sweet girl who's helpin' our dear Sarah! She called me last night to let me know you'd be in charge.”
Would no one let her say her whole name? At this point everyone in town was going to think her name was
“Julâ
”.
“Sarah sure does get around for a hospital-bound lady,” Julia said.
Melinda-Sue laughed. “She sure does. What a firecracker. We love her to pieces. Such a sweet girl. Now, you're the daughter of that Yankee scoundrel, am I right? The one poor Grace took up with in her grief over losing her dear Samuel? Who could've blamed her, though? Your daddy was a handsome devil, but anyone with a lick of sense could tell he was nothin' but trouble.”
Julia had no idea how to respond to such a statement.
“Now, what can I do for you, honey?” Melinda-Sue crooned.
“I'm supposed to make sure Maureen is thereâ”
“Oh, sure, she and the entire bridal party arrived right on time. We're fixin' her hair right this minute, and she is going to be just lovely, so don't you worry about a thing.”
“Great, thanks. I need to be getting back to the preparations.”
“Don't say another word. You go on and do what you have to do. Bye now!”
Julia hung up the phone in a bit of a daze. Good grief. It seemed everyone in this town talked like Betsy, on high octane Southern. She thought things were supposed to move slower down here.
Chuckling to herself, she headed back to the reception room. The country club staff had made good progress. The tables were set up and linen tablecloths were being whisked onto each one. Then the service doors opened, revealing a troupe of people bearing flower arrangements. The head flower-bearer approached her.
“I'm Carole,” she said. “Donna's at the church setting up there. I'm in charge of setup on this end.”
“I have no idea who Donna is, but I'll take your word for it.”
The woman softened a little. “I've got your table arrangements and planters, plus some ivy for the trellis.”
This meant nothing to her. “Okay.”
Carole grinned this time. “We'll get to work.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She strode away, and Julia sighed. She was so in over her head.
****
After what seemed like days, the arrangements at the country club were coming together, no thanks to Julia. By now she had a splitting headache. People kept asking her questions, and she had no idea how to answer any of them. She glanced at her schedule, then at her watch. According to the timeline she was supposed to have left for the church ten minutes ago. Her headache intensified. As gut churning as it was trying to play Ring Master for this circus, the prospect of hanging out at the church for the next couple hours was even worse. Julia could feel hives forming already.
Betsy had provided directions to Covington Falls Community Church, but Julia didn't need them. It was the same church Grace had gone to, and she'd managed to drag Julia and her father to services as often as possible. Except now Seth was the pastor. How could the geeky kid Julia had known be trying to lead his flock on the path toward righteousness?
Julia pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition. Then stared. Dark, red bricks, aged with time, contrasted with the arched, stained-glass windows which marched down the sides. The windows sparkled in the sunlight. A tall steeple with a bell tower reached up into the sky, and at the very top was a white cross. Four stone steps led up to arched, double doors made of oak. She knew this because Grace had once related the story of how the church had been built in 1902 and how the doors had been shipped from England.
Taking a deep breath, Julia got out of the car and headed inside. Once inside the foyer, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. Directly ahead was the sanctuary. She could hear voices, so she headed toward them. Peeking inside, she saw there was a lot of work going on here, too. There was a group of people setting up flower arrangements and another placing tall candelabras next to the pews. One of the women looked up.
“I'm looking for Betsy,” Julia said.
The woman started up the aisle. She was short, but curvy, with wavy, brown hair and brown eyes. “You must be Sarah's stepsister.”
“Everyone seems to know who I am.”
Chuckling, the woman held out a hand. “I'm Donna, the florist.”
“Oh, right, you're another one of the wedding gurus.”
A brow shot up. “I'm a guru? I had no idea. I should put that on my business cards.”
Okay, Julia liked her, too. “Betsy was telling me about the local talent. She mentioned you, the chef, and the boutique owner.”
“We do our best. We're almost done setting up in here. How's my crew doing at the country club?”
“Better than I am.”
Donna laughed again. “Good to hear. As soon as I'm done, I'll head over there to double check everything is ready. In the meantime, you can find Betsy in the bride's room. Turn around and go back out the way you came. It's at the end of the hall to the left.”
“Thanks.”
As it turned out the directions were unnecessary because as soon as Julia got back out to the foyer, she saw Betsy and another woman dash out of a room. Betsy stopped in mid-stride, but the woman behind her didn't have such quick reflexes because she almost mowed Betsy down.
“Julia!” Betsy called out. “Thank goodness you're here. I was about to call you. We've got a big problem.”
“What's wrong?” Julia asked.
Betsy indicated the woman with her. “This is Nancy, the church wedding coordinator. Nancy, this is Julia, Sarah's sister. She's the one I was telling you about.”
Julia waved off the introduction. “It's nice to meet you, Nancy, but we can become friends later. What's wrong?”
“You'll see,” Betsy said.
All three women raced back to the bride's room. There were at least two dozen women running around. Most of them were wearing the same yellow dress. Julia assumed they were bridesmaids, unless there'd been a run on yellow fabric around town. There was also an older woman in a powder-blue dress and another in a pale-green number. Mom and future mother-in-law, she guessed.
In the middle of it all stood Maureen Ashley in her billowing wedding gown. She was of average height and nicely rounded, with generous hips and chest. Her brown hair was arranged in an artful French twist, with a pearl-encrusted headband as the centerpiece. She'd obviously been crying. Everyone in the room seemed to be fussing over her dress, but Julia couldn't understand what they were saying over all the caterwauling.
She stuck two fingers her mouth and let loose with a loud, shrill whistle. Everyone froze.
“Hi. I'm Julia, Sarah's sister. Of sorts. As she may have told you I'm taking over while she concentrates on having a healthy baby. What seems to be the trouble?”
They all started talking at the same time. Julia did the two-finger whistle again, and they groaned and covered their ears.
“Why don't we try having one person tell me?” Julia suggested. “Slowly?”
The older woman in the blue dress stepped forward. “We're having a problem with the dress.”
“It looks okay to me.”
She sighed. “Turn around, Maureen.”
A fat tear slid down the younger woman's cheek as she turned. Julia noticed the bride's gown hadn't been fastened at the top, leaving a gaping hole.
The woman in blue gestured to the buttons. “It won't close.”
Chills raced down Julia's back. “Why not?”
“Because I'm too fat!” Maureen wailed.
“Well, dear, I told you to watch what you were eating,” her mother said. “You know where sugar goes. Just like me, to your hips and bosom.”
“Mother!”
“I'm sorry, but it's the truth. It's the curse all the women in our family have to bear.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Julia cried, holding up her hands. “Are you saying you can't get her in the dress?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Ashley confirmed.
Maureen's eyes welled up again. “I knew I was overeating, but I couldn't help it. I've been so nervous about the wedding and all, ya' know? It's what I always do when I get nervous. I eat. And now I'm a fat slob! What man would want to marry me looking like this?”
“Most men are more interested in what you've got underneath the dress,” Julia said. “I think they also like some curves on a woman.”
Maureen blinked in bemusement. “Huh?”
Oops, forgot where I was for a minute.
“Sorry,” Julia said. “Didn't you have a final fitting or something?”
Maureen nodded. “Three weeks ago, and it was okay then. It was a little snug, but I figured I'd be all right.”
Julia looked around the room. “So, what do we do?”
Two dozen women gave her a blank stare.
“We were hoping you could think of something,” Betsy said.
Panic clenched Julia's lungs, cutting off her air supply. “Me? What do I know about dresses?”
“You're a wedding planner, aren't you?” Mrs. Ashley asked.
“Only since Wednesday.”
A horrified look passed over Mrs. Ashley's face. “Oh, dear, we all assumed you had experience in these matters.”
Maureen started to cry again. “This is awful.”
Julia approached the weepy bride and shook her a bit. “You've got to stop or you're going to wind up looking like a raccoon. We'll figure something out before you have to go down the aisle.”
“We've got pictures in twenty minutes,” the wedding coordinator said helpfully.
Julia scowled. “So we'll figure something out in
twenty minutes
. Let me think.”
“Well, think quickly,” Maureen's mother said.
“Did you call the dressmaker?” Julia asked.
Betsy nodded. “She's out of town doing a fitting for one of her clients.”
“Perfect.”
Julia stared at the half-dressed bride. What a nightmare! She actually felt sorry for Maureen, poor kid. Standing there in her puffy, white gown, she looked like a chubby china doll.
Wait a minute. Puffy. White. Gown. Julia started lifting layers to see what was underneath.
“What are you doing?” Maureen asked, swatting Julia's hands away.
“I'm solving your gaping problem. Look at all this material.”
“What about it?”
Julia looked at Mrs. Ashley. “Can you sew?”
The woman looked at the dress. Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Yes.”
“Anyone else?”
Nancy held up her hand. “I can sew.”
“Okay, we're going to play hide and seek here,” Julia said. “Take a little from underneath and then you two will sew her right into the dress and fill in the gap.”
“But if I'm sewn into the dress, how do I get out of it later?” Maureen asked.
“Why don't you let your new husband take care of it?” Julia said, with a wink. “He might like the idea of cutting your clothes off.”
Maureen blinked in confusion again. “Huh?”
Yeah, lost track of where I was again.
“Never mind. We're going to need scissors, needles, and thread.”
Betsy raced to the corner and picked up what looked like a giant tackle box. She flipped the lid up and unearthed the needed items.
Julia stared at the treasure box. “Where did this come from?”
“Sarah put it together. It's got everything we need in case of an emergency.”
“Good to know.”
“Do you think this will work?” Betsy asked as she handed over the requested materials.
“Do you have a better idea?”
Betsy let out deep sigh. “No.”