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“I’m not really a professional wedding designer, Mom. I’m an interior design school student on the ten year plan who works in a thrift store,” I told her, because apparently she needed reminding.
“I saw the photos of that wedding. You did a beautiful job.”
“Thank you. But I told you I wasn’t going to designyourwedding. We already talked about this.” She’d fielded the idea with me like a year ago, after I designed a wedding for another friend.
And I’d basically told herNo way in hell.
“And that made perfect sense when you were down in San Diego,” she said. “But now that you’re here and the wedding is approaching, and once again I need a wedding designer… Why not?”
Right. Why not. I could think of a few reasons why not.
Like for starters, the idea of taking my mom on as a client was the stuff of nightmares.
“I’m assuming you have a generous budget for this,” I said. “Just hire someone.”
“Now, how can I trust just anyone with this when the first someone up and quit? And so close to the big day?”
She had a point.
“I thought you’d done several weddings now,” she pressed.
“Yes. I have. But not really on purpose.” I hadn’t really thought of it as a serious job, either. I’d pretty much fallen into it, mainly because so many people I knew had been getting married and since I was so painfully single all the time, had no real prospects in other design-related jobs and had nothing better to do, in their eyes, I’d somehow gotten roped into designing a friend’s wedding. And word spread from there.
“Well, this one can be on purpose,” she said.
“Mom, I hate weddings.”
“Oh, you say that. It can’t be true.”
“Trust me, it can.” Thealways a bridesmaid and never the bridething was getting old. And I was only twenty-three. With no boyfriend or decent prospect in sight.
Weddings, at this point in my life, were landing somewhere between mildly annoying and completely depressing.
“Well, this is your mother’s wedding,” she reminded me. “And a lot of the work is already finished. The venue and catering were booked long ago. Invitations have all gone out and RSVPs have come back. Flowers and cake and decor have all been arranged. Of course… much of the decor is actually owned by the wedding design service…”
“The service that just quit?”
“Exactly. So I really need someone to take over that part. You know, execute the design on the big day. Make sure we have everything we need and that everything looksimmaculé.”
God. Was I actually considering this?
She was gazing at me so hopefully. “This will be an easy job for you, Jolie. And we will pay you, of course.”
Ugh. I did not want to be swayed by the lure of a paycheck here,but. I wasn’t exactly living large on a thrift store cashier’s pay. Spoiler alert: it was barely above minimum wage.
I sighed. “How much is there left to do, really?”
“Not much at all,” she insisted. “Everything has been organized, right down to the seating plan. I just need you to make sure that everything goesaccording to plan.”
Great. So if anything went wrong, I’d get the blame.
But something she’d just said snagged my interest…
Seating plan.
If I was in charge of the wedding plan and the design… and had access to things like the seating plan… I could make damn sure that I didn’t have to sit next to Shane at the head table or some such nightmare. In fact, I could arrange it so that I never had to be anywhere near him at all.
“Okay. You know what? I’ll do it.”
