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“It’s something to think about, I guess. I really wanted to have it up here. But it might be too much trouble. My aunt Roberta has Sunday dinner. We’ll see the relatives there the following day.”
“That’s Roberta Saint, correct? Her name was mentioned in that newspaper article about your family. She’d probably love to help you organize a reception.”
“Probably, but neither of us has the energy for anything right now.”
“You’re not kidding,” Robin said. “That fire really took a lot out of everyone. Sam’s still in bed at eight in the morning. Even Doc Bogart aged ten years overnight. But the good news is that Angus Smith is in AA. The shock of almost losing his place was a wake-up call, I guess.”
“It’s never too late,” Paul said, leaning on his rake.
“Angus told everyone that you spent a lot of your time off this summer helping get their grove back in shape.”
“It wasn’t anything,” Paul replied, embarrassed. “You and Sam were there, too.”
“I’d be honored to help organize a reception, Paul. You two lovebirds deserve something special.”
Paul nodded at her. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Emily goes back to work today too, so real life begins.” He looked at his phone. “Thanks again, Robin.”
He leaned the rake up against the cabin and went inside, keying in Emily’s number.
“Are you getting ready to leave?” he asked when she answered the call.
“Just about. One more sip of coffee and I’m headed down the mountain. What are you doing up?”
“I was outside raking, believe it or not. Robin mentioned renting one of those party tents and porta-potties and having the reception here. What do you think about that?”
Grabbing her travel mug and car keys, the thought of planning a reception at the cabin was overwhelming. “We’d have to rent all the furniture. I don’t know. It seems too much. We’d have to use your kitchen, hire people to serve. A giant ugh to that!”
“Well, it was just a thought. Have a safe trip. Talk to you later.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “Love you.”
“I love you, Emily.”
After hanging up, he called his father. Why didn’t he think of Fire Station #34? Charlie was battalion chief there; he’d know if it was available. Charlie answered on the first ring. They talked about the devastating fire first. Charlie’s men and women were among the crews who’d helped the firefighters at #20.
“So now that our building is gone, Emily and I don’t have any place to have our wedding reception. Is your place open that day?”
“Son, I don’t think it is. I’ll look. The weekend before Thanksgiving is a tough one because all the community groups serve an early Thanksgiving dinner on that day.” Charlie leafed through the calendar into November. “Yep, I’m sorry. It’s rented for dinner.”
“We were fine just taking you, Lila, Mom and Harry and Emily’s mother and father out for dinner afterward, but now my neighbor has my head spinning with an idea to have a reception here.”
“That’s a lot of work,” Charlie said. “Remember Joey and Candy’s after party? I hired everything out, and it was still a week of recovery. I think your idea of us going to dinner after is fine. And fair warning, if you get your aunt Roberta involved, only God knows what you’ll end up with.”
“Ha! Good idea, Pop. We can just wait until Sunday dinner and have it be our reception.”
They chatted a bit more and then hung up. Paul cared about the wedding and reception. He especially wanted it to be special for Emily. But he’d learned she was a little odd about such things; when he’d mentioned having a surprise birthday party for her when she refused a regular one, she had a mini meltdown.
“Please, promise me you’ll never do any surprise parties or anything like that for me,” she begged.
“Why? It’s a way people can honor you.”
“I’d rather not be honored.”
He quickly figured out that it was a control thing. Deciding to confront her, he knew there was a chance she’d take offense, so he worded it carefully. “Are you afraid that you’d feel out of control if someone surprised you?”
“Yes! Exactly. The thought that there could be a party behind every closed door would mean I would always have to be prepared. That’s too much work.”
“Prepared in what way?” he asked, amused.
