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In the past three weeks, I’ve shared a seventeen-email exchange with Jaelee on this very topic. Apparently, Cat wants her wedding to be chic and simple, quintessentially rustic Italian but super caz and kinda Aussie, yet beautiful and memorable. And very Tuscany.
None of that makes sense and when you put it all together, you end up with a sister, a mother, and a close friend going around in endless circles. I’m beginning to see why Jaelee raised her hand for logistics and legalities. More fool me! I thought I was getting off lightly with flowers!
Still, this is way better than succumbing to the dread of my approaching milestone birthday. Even after reading that letter to myself?on the surface, a very reassuring letter?I feel like something is off, missing even. I doubt it’s that I’ve yet to travel to Antarctica.
And all that aside, if we leave it to Cat, there may not be a ceremony, let alone a reception.
‘Honestly, I am thrilled to bits that Catherine is marrying Jean-Luc,’ says Mum, ‘and as confusing as all this is?and overwhelming, I might add’ ?I was right!? ‘if we leave it to her, she’ll end up getting married in an airport lounge.’
I chuckle. ‘I was just thinking the same thing.’
‘I love your sister …’
‘So do I …’
‘And this is her special day, so let’s just start deciding things then move on to the next. How does that sound?’
‘Sounds good, Mum.’
By the time Dad calls us to sit down to a roast lamb lunch, Mum and I have decided on an aesthetic for the wedding that sits somewhere between ‘peasanty rusticity’ and ‘high-end chic’. Actually, I’m quite proud of how much we’ve accomplished today. Before packing up, I send an email off to Jaelee with links to the castle’s website, a local florist, and a local bakery?all with clear instructions about what she’s to inquire about.
Our plan is to give my sister the wedding she never knew she always wanted.
