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her hands. “Del thinks it’s weird, but he’s not inclined—yet—to beat Malcolm up.”
“Such restraint.”
“It is for Del when it comes to you. I could tell Del to tell Mal to call.”
“When do we graduate from high school again?”
“It’s fun.”
Parker shook her head.“It wasn’t even a date. A nondate and a couple of kisses.”
“Hot, steamy kisses.”
“Regardless,” Parker began, and Mac strolled in.
“’Morning, both. Did Mal call?”
“No. And could we all just—”
“You should call him. Maybe try the message machine conversations.” As Laurel had, Mac hit the coffee setup.“Carter and I had the best message machine conversations.We still do sometimes. Or e-mails. Emma and Jack did the sexy e-mailing.Your CrackBerry’s fused to your hand anyway, so it’d be easy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for down the road to never. Now maybe we could, I don’t know, discuss the two major events we’re getting paid to orchestrate today?”
“You’re so strict.”
Emma raced in, a Diet Pepsi in one hand, her laptop in the other.“I feel like I’ve already run five miles this morning. Did—”
“No.” Parker didn’t snap it, but it was close. “Malcolm didn’t call. No, I’m not going to call him, leave a message on his machine, or e-mail him. Does that cover it?”
“You could take your car in for service. No, he just did that. You could take the van in,” Emma decided. “No, he did that a couple months ago, and boy, did I get a lecture. Maybe—”
“Maybe we could get to work.”
“She’s irritated he didn’t call,” Laurel said.
“I am not irritated he—”
“More irked.” Mac pursed her lips, considered. “That’s her irked tone.”
“If I’m irked, it’s with you.”
Ignoring her, Laurel shifted to Mac. “He’s probably one of those three-day-rule guys.”
“That’s such a stupid rule.”
“I know!” Emma settled in. “Who comes up with that stuff ?”
Mac popped some muffin in her mouth. “People like Parker.”
Parker waved a hand. “Just let me know when you’re all finished. No rush, no rush at all. We’ve just got a bride, her wedding party, the hair and makeup team arriving in sixty-five minutes. No worries.”
“Remember when she was dating that guy? The guy with the thing and the . . .” Mac skimmed her thumb and forefinger over her chin.
“That guy?” Laurel sniffed. “We didn’t like that guy.”
“He never looked you in the eye.” Emma gestured with her bottle.
“And he chortled.” Mac nodded wisely. “He’s the only guy I ever knew who actually chortled. I don’t think you can trust a chortler.”
In the way of forever friends, Parker knew exactly who they were talking about. She started to point out she’d only gone out with him a handful of times, then wisely—or stubbornly—said nothing.
“That’s so true,” Emma agreed. She gave Parker a smile. “And because we didn’t like him or trust him, we didn’t say much about him.To you.”
“Since we like Mal, we have a lot to say.”
As it made perfect sense to her, Parker only sighed.“Okay, but at this point there’s nothing to talk about. And there may never be. If there is, you’ll all be the first to know.”
“That’s fair.” Laurel glanced at her friends, got their nods. “Agreed.” She circled her hands in the air as if wiping a slate. “Open to work mode.”
“Excellent, as is the weather forecast for today. Mostly sunny, minimal chance of rain, light breezes, seasonal temps.The Gregory-Mansfield event this morning has no known danger zones or specific problems or entanglements to watch for.”
“Just the usuals then,” Laurel put in.
“Exactly. I spoke with the bride this morning, and she’s good. Reports that she and her mother had a good weepy chat last night, and got it out of their system.”
“I like her.” Emma sipped her soft drink. “We’re not required to like our brides, so it’s a bonus.”
“She’s been great to work with,” Parker agreed. “For the timetable.”
She ran through it, section by section, confirming her partners’ readiness, needs.
“The flowers are all charm, heavy on the woodland violets.”
“Don’t mention woodland violets.” Laurel rolled her shoulders. “I made over two hundred for the cake.”
“It’s woodland meadow all the way,” Emma continued. “The portico, Bride and Groom suites are finished, as is the foyer, staircase, and nearly all the interiors.We’re still on the rest of the exterior, and I need to get back to it soon. The flower carts we’ve designed are going to be awesome, and she’s going to love the mini watering cans filled with the flower I can’t mention on the tables at the reception.”
“I’ll get the arrival shots,” Mac added, “then stick with the bride and her party until I’m alerted the groom’s heading in. Get his arrival, and back to the bride for the candids during hair, makeup, dressing—shifting to the groom and party. I have some solid concepts for formal shots, exterior. Using Emma’s awesome flower carts.”
“The cake’s complete. No further assembly on that one. Emma and I can dress the cake and dessert tables during the brunch.”
“I think the breakdown, second setup will be today’s major challenge.” Parker skimmed the schedule. “It’s all in the timing.”
“Won’t be the first or the last.” Laurel shrugged.“The cake for the second event does need some on-site assembly, but we’re good there. Groom’s cake’s finished, the desserts nearly so. I need about an hour there, and I can steal that before the first event.”
“I’ve already talked to my team on the timing.” Emma blew out a breath.“We’ll work our asses off, but we’ll get it done.We’ll start on the Grand Hall as soon as the guests move to the Ballroom for dancing. All twelve bouquets are complete, as are the three—jeez, three—flower girls’ pomanders and halos. I can use any available pair of hands and or backs and legs. Jack and Del are pitching in, and Carter, too, when Mac doesn’t need him. We should be good.”
“Problem areas,” Parker began.“Henry, the FOG’s brother, really likes his vodka, and when he really gets a lot of what he likes he tends to pat and pinch and otherwise inappropriately touch female asses. I’ll be watching him, but can use more eyes throughout. MOB has a feud going with her own mother-in-law, one of long-standing. They have, I’m assured, issued a detente for today. But emotions and alcohol, as we know, often trump detentes.The SOB,” she continued, referring to the bride’s sister, “has been divorced for three years or so from the groom’s good friend who is one of the ushers. They did not part amicably, so there’s a second possible problem area.
“Okay,” she added, “quick rundown on timing.”
WITHIN THE HOUR, PARKER, IN A SUBDUED GRAY SUIT, STOOD ON the portico to greet the bride.While Mac scooted and shifted to get her shots, Parker offered a welcoming smile.
“Ready for your day, Marilee?”
“I’m so ready. Oh, oh, look at this.” The bride, already radiant without makeup, with her hair yanked back in a messy tail, grabbed her mother’s hand, and her best friend/maid of honor’s. “It’s . . . it’s like a magical forest glade. A wild, secret forest.”
“Emma will be so happy you like it.We all are. And this is just the beginning. Why don’t I take you up to the Bride’s Suite, or today maybe we should call it your bower.”
Amid more pots of violets and wild roses, among trays of champagne and colorful fruit, Parker hung the bride’s gown, the attendants’ dresses, served refreshments, answered questions.
“Hair and makeup are heading up,” she said when she got the alert through her earbud.“I’m going to leave you to Mac for now. I’ll be checking back in. If you need me in the meantime, just push one-one-one on the p
hone.”
She strolled out, then went into a dash to check on Emma’s progress outside. Emma was right, she noted; the flower carts were wonderful. If the entrance was magic forest glade, here the guests would step into magic forest meadow.
More deep red wild roses and rich purple violets twined up the portico. Charming and generous arrangements of wildflowers spilled from carts and tubs. Even now members of Emma’s team added small distressed copper holders with more flowers to the sides of the chairs they’d covered with pale green slips.
Pretty, she thought, as the pictures Mac would take.
She pitched in for the ten minutes she could spare, then hurried back to greet the groom.
“Groom’s on-site,” she told Mac through her headset.
She greeted, escorted, offered refreshments, hung tuxes.
And noticed the groom’s father, a widower of five years, standing alone on the small terrace.
She slipped out with him.
“Mr. Mansfield, I wonder if you’d like to take a little walk with me, see the area we’ve dressed for the ceremony.”
She hooked her arm through his.“It’ll give the wedding party a little time to settle in,” she added as she walked him out.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” he said.
“It really is.”
He was, she thought, a handsome man. His hair, full, thick, and pewter gray, his face lightly tanned and strong-featured. But his eyes were full of sorrow.
She spoke gently.“It’s hard, I think, to face the happy times, the important moments, without someone we love, someone who made those times and moments possible.”
He reached up a hand to cover hers. “I don’t want it to show. I don’t want any cloud on Luke’s day.”
“It’s all right. He misses her today, too. He thinks of her, as you do. But it’s different for you. She was your partner. I think Luke’s going to have what you and your wife had with Marilee.The love, the bond, the partnership.”
“Kathy would have loved Marilee.” He took a deep breath, then another when he saw the terrace, the pergola, the lawns.“She would have loved this, every moment of this. You’re giving our boy a beautiful day.”
“We just set the stage.You and your wife helped make him into a man, and now he and Marilee are giving each other a beautiful day.”
She pulled out her tissues, quietly offered one as his eyes filled.
