Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom (28 page)

“It might be. It
depends.”

“On
what?”

“On whether I get
it.”

“If it matters that
much to you, it’s yours.”

“And yet, you keep
talking,” he pointed out.

“Do I?”

“You do. Let me know
when you’re done.”

“Sure.” I gave him a
little shrug. “I guess I’m done now.”

“Good, Miz
Scarlet.”

“Good is
right.”

“Most people would have
stopped by now,” he informed me.

“Yes, but I’m not most
people, am I?”

“No, you’re not. You’re
Bur Wilson’s little sister and you’re programmed to be a pain in
the....”

“You know,” I said
softly, stepping up and wrapping an arm around his waist, “you
could just shut up and kiss me. That would probably shut me
up.”

“I don’t like the
‘probably’ part. I’d prefer something more
definite.”

“Like a commitment to
drop it?” I traced his lower lip with my right index
finger.

“A commitment is only
as good as the committer. Actions speak louder than words, and in
your case, I’d recommend shutting up, Scarlet, before you get
yourself into more hot water.”

“Hmm....”

Jenny coughed
discreetly from the doorway and then waited for us to acknowledge
her. “Sorry to bother you, but we really should get moving on that
shopping trip. Don’t you have to make the wedding cake this
afternoon?”

“Yes, you should,
Scarlet.” Kenny gave me a little push toward the teenager, his hand
on the small of my back. “Run along and try not to get into
trouble.”

It took us the better
part of two hours to gather all the ingredients for the meals we’d
planned for the Pinault-Magnusdotter weekend, and another forty
minutes to unload the groceries and put them away. After a quick
lunch, I got started on making the chocolate cake while Jenny
festooned the foyer and grand staircase with tulle. My mother
busied herself creating a wedding play list for the CD player with
a selection of classic favorites in the living room. I found myself
humming along to
Ava
Maria
as I dusted my pans with
flour.

Once the cakes were
mixed and baking in the oven, I decided to insure the reception
went smoothly by making an extra set of cake layers. They’d be in
the freezer, on the off chance catastrophe struck. And if, for any
reason, Captain Peacock came through for me, I’d turn those
luscious layers into the best apology gift anyone ever
had.

Lacey volunteered to
pick up the boxed Geneva chocolates and foil-wrapped hearts from
Munson’s on her way home from her exercise class at the senior
center. She was going to fold napkins and put together goodie
baskets for the guest rooms after lunch.

Even Bur got into the
act, promising to bring home a selection of wines, including some
Prosecco Superiore for the wedding reception toast.

Just after three, a
white van bearing the logo of Aardvark Party Rentals turned into
the driveway and pulled up to the front porch. I happened to be
making the beds in the Red Oak Room at the time and caught sight of
it. By the time I hurried downstairs and threw open the front door,
I found myself facing two rough-looking men, dressed in white
jumpsuits and black caps, wheeling an assortment of electrical
equipment down a ramp and up to the steps.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.
We’re ready to set up your music system.” Max gave me a wink as he
glanced up at me through black-framed eyeglasses. A furry
caterpillar of a moustache sat under his nose and I half-expected
it to wiggle. “What room do you want this stuff
in?”

“We’re on the clock,
lady, so unless you want to pay us overtime, I suggest you show us
the way,” Kenny announced loudly, poking his head out from behind
an amplifier. The unexpected sight of his gorgeous hair hidden
beneath a scruffy wig made me gasp. Grinning, he gave me a gentle
bump as he passed me. “Better close your mouth, Scarlet. You’re
letting the flies in.”

“Right this way,
gentlemen,” I instructed them, trying to recover my equilibrium.
“And please mind the floors.”

I led them down the
hallway to the living room. The moment we were inside, Max
deposited the wheels of his handcart on the carpet and quickly
closed the door to the hallway.

“Pull all the drapes,
Scarlet, but leave the front door open. We’ll take care of the
rest. Just go about your business.”

“But....”

“Have you really
forgotten that deal we have?” a rather stern Kenny
demanded.

“Deal?” My brain tried
to filter the word, but I was still distracted by the sight of two
grown men playing dress up in my living room. I forced myself to
concentrate. “No, I haven’t.”

“See that you don’t,”
he warned me. Those gorgeous eyes were obscured by a pair of thick,
tortoise shell-framed glasses. Even more shocking was the twenty
pounds or so he seemed to have put on since I last saw him at
breakfast.

“What have you done to
yourself?” I demanded. It must be padding, I decided, but just to
be certain, I reached out to check. I gave him a light
poke.

“Hey, watch it, lady!
That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”

“Why don’t you two save
the flirting for later? We’ve got work to do,” Max reminded
us.

“Okay,” I shrugged. “I
just hope you guys know what you’re doing, because if you don’t,
you might just have to hire out as workmen and those jumpsuits
don’t do much for you.”

“Everybody’s a critic,”
Max remarked sardonically. “Personally, I think I look quite
dashing.”

“Has Larry seen you in
this get-up?” I inquired, knowing that the homicide investigator
had a good sense of humor. She was likely to split a gut at the
sight of her significant other posing as an Aardvark Party Rentals
employee.

“As a matter of fact,
she hasn’t. But I may give her a thrill when this case wraps
up.”

“Oh, please allow me to
capture the moment with my camera!”

I left them to their
charade and headed back upstairs to finish preparing the rooms for
the wedding guests. By the time I stopped just after five, we were
almost set for tomorrow. Once Jenny and I vacated our third floor
suite and Kenny vacated the Red Oak Room, it would just be a matter
of changing the linens and towels.

Shark Boy stopped off
after work to see if we needed any help. By this time, Kenny and
Max, still in their jumpsuits, were in the back garden, setting up
folding chairs. Bur had filled a couple of large blue-glazed pots
with lobelia, pansies, and snapdragons, positioning them on either
side of an undecorated white wicker arch. The mangled blueberry
bushes were now obscured by a strategically positioned tent that
would serve to house the small bar and hors d’oeuvres table. I felt
my optimism slowly rising. We might just be able to make the
Pinault-Magnusdotter wedding memorable.

By six, the four men
had everything in place for the first night of the festivities. The
security team departed in their borrowed Aardvark Party Rental van.
About twenty minutes later, a much thinner Kenny returned to the
inn in his SUV.

“Hello, Mr. Worman,” I
greeted him at the front door. “Welcome back to the Four Acorns
Inn.”

“Where nutty is the
norm?” he asked with a sly grin. I contorted my normally attractive
face with a goofy smile and crossed my eyes. “Didn’t your mother
ever warn you, Miz Scarlet? Do you really want to go through life
looking like that? Ugh! It’s enough to give me the
heebie-jeebies!”

Kenny insisted that we
keep the drapes closed in the living room and went from window to
window in the dining room, pulling the shades. Laurel was rather
surprised.

“Is there something we
should know, Kenneth?”

“No, ma’am, there is
not. I’d just rather not expose the residents of the Four Acorns
Inn tonight. Let folks get their peep show somewhere
else.”

Lacey had a date with
her silver-haired heartthrob. Wearing a chic blouse and skirt, her
hair fluffed up, she waited for him in the living room, peeking out
the window every minute or two while the rest of the gang assembled
for cocktails. She went on alert as a silver-colored Dodge Ram
truck pulled into the driveway. “He’s here. How do I
look?”

“Gorgeous,” my mother
told her.

“You look lovely,” I
nodded.

“You’re a knockout,”
Bur agreed. “Go get him, tiger!”

“I think I will,” she
beamed enthusiastically. “He’s definitely a keeper. Toodles,
people!”

Bur, Laurel and Kenny
sat on one side of the dining table. I joined Jenny and her
boyfriend on the other. We settled down to a meal of linguini with
white clam sauce and a tossed salad, passing Parmesan cheese and
crusty rolls around the table as we chatted.

“I’m so excited about
tomorrow,” Jenny exclaimed. “It’s my first time behind the scenes
at a wedding. What’s the bride like?”

“Well, she was quite
pleasant on the phone,” I acknowledged.

“Sure, but what does
she look like?”

“I have absolutely no
idea,” I admitted.

“I’ll bet she’s going
to wear something amazing,” the teen gushed. “Do you think she’ll
have a long veil or a short one?”

“We don’t even know
that she’s wearing white,” my mother pointed out, “let alone a
gown.”

“Oh, that’s too
bad.”

“She and the groom
didn’t seem to indicate this was a very formal wedding.” I poured
myself another glass of ice water.

“I guess that’s okay,
since this is only our first wedding. If it goes well, we might
just be able to work our way up to something really dazzling.”
There was a wistful note in Jenny’s voice.

“Wouldn’t that be
nice?” Laurel sighed.

It didn’t take a genius
to figure out they were hooked on the idea of inn
weddings.
I can see it all now.
To welcome guests to the Four Acorns Wedding Annex, we’ll
commission a fancy sign featuring a squirrel in a lace gown,
holding a bouquet of oak leaves, and another in a tux. Below would
be the words “where nutty is the norm”.

Chapter Twenty One --

“We could offer an
elopement package,” Bur piped up, sealing the deal. “I’ve been
looking into it. We could attract couples from around the country.
Maybe I’ll become a justice of the peace.”

“Elopements? That
doesn’t quite seem like something that is on the up and up,” my
mother frowned. “Do we really want teenagers flocking to the inn in
search of legitimacy?”

“Not that kind of
elopement,” Bur smiled, reaching over to pat Laurel’s hand.
“Actually, the kind of folks looking for a nice, quiet inn, where
they can marry and honeymoon, are typically older, with disposable
income; most of the time, they’re getting married for the second or
third time.”

“Disposable
income...that sounds promising,” I decided.

“Oh, shoot,” my teenage
assistant groaned. “That means we’ll get the old fuddy-duddies.
They’ll probably wear granny shoes and polyester pant
suits!”

“I beg your pardon,”
Laurel said, taking umbrage at Jenny’s comment. “What, pray tell,
constitutes ‘granny shoes’, young lady?”

“I just mean they won’t
be looking for anything fancy. Stick a rose in the bride’s hand and
she’ll think it’s a bouquet.”

“Not necessarily,” I
replied, thinking. “We could do different kinds of wedding
packages. Silver, gold, platinum....”

“Champagne.” Bur
suggested. “That sounds elegant and expensive.”

“What really says
luxury,” my mother wanted to know, “without scaring off potential
guests?”

“...Margarita,
Daiquiri,” Kenny kidded. “It’s ‘Jimmy Buffet time’ at the Four
Acorns Inn.”

“You mean Jimmy
Boo-fay. It rhymes with boo-kay,” Bur trilled, imitating the
indomitable Hyacinth Bucket from
Keeping Up Appearances
.

“What if we offered a
Champagne package, featuring chocolate and strawberries,
Ch
â
teaubriand for two....” I countered as an alternative to
Captain Peacock’s list.

“I’ve always thought
the wedding cake was the highlight of any celebration,” my mother
told us. “How would you handle that for an intimate celebration for
two?”