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“How can you be sure?”
“The wedding arch calls for seventeen-inch brackets.” He measured the package against his hand. “These are roughly seven inches.”
“Now what?”
He gave a dispirited shrug as he filed the report and reordered the brackets. Then he turned to me. “Just hope they arrive in time.”
****
That afternoon, I stopped by the local bakery. The front window displayed a Mexican embroidery cake, its piped buttercream mimicking Mexican floral patterns.
I sent Luke a snapshot.
Maeve—How’s this for our wedding cake?—
When he replied with a thumbs-up emoticon, I stepped inside to place the order.
Not five minutes later, Bea walked in, her cinnamon perfume overpowering the bakery’s sweet, yeasty aroma.
I turned my back, breathing shallowly to avoid the stench, as well as confrontation.
Making no attempt to recognize boundaries, Bea shouldered into my personal space, elbowing me as she eavesdropped.
Silently fuming, I shrugged her off.
“Be with you in a moment.” The shopkeeper grazed the newcomer with a perfunctory smile as she concluded my order. “We’ll deliver the cake next Friday morning at ten.”
“Better make that nine to be safe. Thanks.” I turned to leave.
“Don’t think your wedding will be any cakewalk.” Bea blocked my escape.
“Excuse me.” I sidestepped her.
“Never in a million years…” Bea smiled through her hiss.
****
I found Luke in the vineyard. “How’s the pesticide spraying going?”
“Done.” His relaxed smile spoke volumes.
“I’m so glad.” I took a deep breath before asking the next question. “Think you sprayed in time to save the vines?”
“Too early to say, but the odds are good.”
“Thank God.” Reassured, I hugged him.
“How’d it go with the wedding plans?”
“The to-do list is getting shorter.” Enjoying the security of his arms, I rattled off the morning’s accomplishments. “Besides ordering the cake, I stopped at the rental center. They’ll take care of the tent, tables, chairs, table linens, runners, napkins, disposable dishes, flatware, and glasses—both the set up and the cleanup.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good, that translates to more fun and less work on our big day.” His arms squeezed around me.
Despite our progress, a vague thought nagged. “I just feel we’re overlooking something. What are we forgetting?”
“Can’t think of anything.” He shook his head. “We’ve reconfirmed with the minister, sent the invitations—”
“And booked the venue…” I chuckled before snuggling against him. “Good thing we have an ‘in’ with the owners.”
