Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel (25 page)

“Hannah McDermott of Clan McDermott, I’m askin’ ye for yer hand in marriage.”

My thoughts reeled and I couldn’t seem to speak. “I . . . I . . . I . . .”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his gaze narrowing. “Because if it’s not, I’ll have to rethink my speech.”

“Yes!” I stood in rapt awe as he slipped the gorgeous ring on my finger. “Oh yes!”

Drew wrapped his arms around me as the room came alive with cheers and laughter. “Yer gonna be a Kincaid from now on,” he said. “Now, how does that make ye feel?”

My hands trembled nearly as badly as my voice. “Like I’m getting a fresh start. Though I can’t help wondering what Grandpa Aengus would’ve said.”

My father rose and gave me a hug. “He would’ve said, ‘Health and a long life to you. Land without rent to you. A child every year to you. And if you can’t go to heaven, may you at least die in Ireland.”

This got another round of laughter from everyone in the room. Well, everyone but Bella, who told me I might want to reconsider that “child every year” line. I couldn’t help but agree with that one. But it looked like I had a lot more to consider than that. Like a wedding, for one thing.

Wedding?

Oh. Help.

I looked back and forth between Scarlet and Bella, my heart in my throat. They approached and wrapped their arms around me, all laughter and smiles.

“Don’t fret, Hannah,” Bella said, looking far more confident than I felt. “Just leave the details to me.”

“And leave the cake to me,” Scarlet added. “I’ve been planning your wedding cake ever since the Bing and Bob party. You liked that chocolate truffle recipe, right?”

“Right.” I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad one of us knew this was coming.”

“Of course I knew, silly.” She offered up a little sigh. “You and Drew are perfect together. You’re the cream to his coffee, the garlic in his twists, the icing on his cake.”

I didn’t know about all of that. Still, as he swept me into his arms for a crazy spin around the living room floor, I did have to admit we made a pretty good dance team, one even my grandpa Aengus would be proud of. And I would go on dancing with Drew Kincaid . . . for the rest of my life.

Here’s to the wings of love.

May they never molt a feather,

Till your little shoes and my big boots

Are under the bed together.

Irish wedding blessing

T
wenty minutes after Drew Kincaid asked me to marry him, I telephoned my sisters and asked each one to serve as a bridesmaid. Their squealing—and affirmative reactions—nearly deafened me. Afterward I used my cell phone to change my Facebook status to “Engaged.” This, of course, got a bevy of comments from my online friends, including Jacquie Goldfarb, who seemed genuinely happy for me. So happy, in fact, that I offered her an official invitation to the wedding.

She accepted right away.

As that decision was made, peace settled over me. No more angst. No more looking back. Only happy days from this point forth.

Scarlet and Bella pulled me into the dining room of the Rossi home, where we shared more tiramisu and lots of girlish chatter about the upcoming wedding. They flowed with ideas, more than I could possibly comprehend.

“I still can’t believe you’re getting married,” Scarlet said as she took a big bite of her tiramisu. “I’ll be the last single woman on Galveston Island. Promise you’ll toss the bouquet my way.”

“Why do you need the bouquet?” I giggled. “You’ve got Kenny.”

“Hmm.” She looked at her plate.

“What?” I asked.

Glancing up, she shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you, but we broke up.”

“No way.” My heart twisted at this news.

“Yeah. I guess we weren’t really much of an item, anyway. He’s always been sort of a hanger-on-er. I guess you could say I was using him.” A sigh erupted. “Kind of like I used you to promote my business.”

“I never felt used, Scarlet.” I reached over to squeeze her hand, noticing the tears in her eyes.

“And look at how that turned out,” Bella said with a smile. “Now you get to work with Aunt Rosa.”

“True.” Scarlet sighed again and turned my way. “But promise you’ll toss me the bouquet?”

“First I have to
order
the bouquet,” I said. “And the food. And the wedding dress.”

“Hannah, remember what I told you. I’ll take care of the
details.” Bella gave me a wink. “Now, let’s settle on a date, okay? I need to get you on the calendar. What are you thinking? Springtime? Early summer? We’re booked most Saturdays, but I’ve got several Friday nights open.”

My head swam with possibilities. Half an hour ago, weddings were the farthest thing from my mind. Now I had to plan one?

My heart danced to my throat as another realization set in. “Oh no. I’ve got to hire a photographer. What am I going to do about that? We can’t very well shoot our own wedding.”

“True.” Bella chuckled. “Well, you’ll love this little tidbit. My brother and sister-in-law are coming back from Italy for a few months. She’s having a baby and wants to be near the family.”

Two emotions washed over me at once—concern that Bella wouldn’t need me anymore once Joey and Norah came back, and relief because we now had a wedding photographer.

Not that I had time to worry. Bella whipped out her phone and pulled up her calendar app. She listed off several possibilities for wedding dates, but I couldn’t respond until I’d talked to Drew.

Do all brides move this fast?

I headed into the living room to find Drew and caught him in the middle of a conversation with D.J.’s parents about their motorcycle ministry. Not wanting to interrupt, I headed over to the other side of the room to join Mama and the Splendora sisters, who were deeply engrossed in a conversation of some sort. I got there just in time to hear my mother say that she was happy to finally call herself an empty nester.

What?

“Wait, Mama.” I narrowed my gaze. “What are you saying? You’re happy that I’m moving out?”

A hint of a smile turned up the edges of her lips. “Well, I don’t want you to feel like you’re not wanted, Hannah. But I’m going through a lot of changes right now.” She lowered her voice to whisper the next part. “And not just menopause. I want to get into shape. So I’ve been thinking about turning your room into a fitness center.”

“A fitness center?”

“Yes. As my cooking skills get better, I’ll need to focus more on working out. Wouldn’t hurt your father to join me. I think it would be fun to get one of those elliptical machine thingies. And Twila told me that she’s got some sort of gaming system that has workout software. She uses it every day. It helps her keep track of calories and everything.”

“That’s right,” Twila said. “Maybe we can all get in shape together.”

Mama patted her midsection. “I figured while I’m changing so many other things in my life, I should go ahead and be proactive with my health. If I’m learning to cook Italian food, I’ll need a way to keep it from going to my hips.”

My father drew near and wiggled his brows. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it on your hips, Marie. Wouldn’t offend me in the least.”

Ew.

Just one more reason I should be happy to move out.

Drew approached and pulled me into his arms, kissing away any concerns. “Long life to you, the future Mrs. Kincaid.”

“Long life to you too,” I said and giggled. “We’re getting married.”

“Yep. Merging the clans.” He gestured to my father, who followed D.J.’s parents out of the living room. “Speaking of merging forces, you know what they’re up to, don’t you?”

“Nope. I have no idea.”

“Follow me and you’ll see for yourself.”

Seconds later I stood on the veranda of the Rossi home, watching as my father climbed aboard the back of a motorcycle and rode off into the sunset with a Kingdom Riders jacket on to ward off the chilly night air.

I shook my head. “This has got to be some sort of a weird dream. I could have sworn I just saw my father ride off on a motorcycle with a man named Dwayne from Splendora.”

“You did.”

“It wasn’t a weird lasagna-induced dream?”

“Nope.”

“Not sure which has me more discombobulated—the fact that he’s doing something so out of character, or the fact that he just ate a full plate of Italian food and enjoyed the finale of
Dancing with the Stars
. I don’t recall ever seeing the man eat lasagna in my life.”

“You never know, Hannah. Could be he ends up with a whole new palate.”

I laughed. “Grandpa Aengus would turn over in his grave.” Or maybe not. The man was adventurous, after all.

“What would he say on a night like this?” Drew pulled me close and placed several sweet kisses on my cheeks.

“Oh, he’d probably share one of his favorite proverbs. Something about how lucky we are to be Irish.” I laughed, then shivered as the cool night air wrapped itself around me.

“I’d say I’m pretty blessed, but I don’t really think it has anything to do with being Irish.” Drew’s arms encircled my waist, and a kiss sweeter than Rosa’s tiramisu followed.

As I lingered in his arms, I heard the sound of laughter from inside the house. Then the melody to “White Christmas” rang out in perfect three-part harmony. Looked like
Twila, Bonnie Sue, and Jolene were giving another one of their impromptu concerts. Not that I minded. Not at all. In fact, I felt like singing myself. And dancing. And . . .

With Drew’s gorgeous blue eyes now fixed on mine, I felt like tossing every care to the wind and celebrating this picture-perfect day.

Grandpa Aengus’s Favorite Irish Sayings

1. You’ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your grandfather was.
   
2. Never interrupt your opponent while he’s making a mistake.
   
3. May the Lord keep you in his hand and never close his fist too tight.
   
4. May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.
   
5. May you be half an hour in heaven before the devil knows you’re dead.
   
6. May you live to be a hundred years, with one extra year to repent.
   
7. Who gossips with you will gossip of you.
   
8. A handful of skill is worth a bagful of gold.
   
9. A friend’s eye is a good mirror.
   
10. Count your rainbows, not your thunderstorms.
    
11. There are good ships and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be.
    
12. A toast to your coffin. May it be made of hundred-year-old oak. And may we plant the tree together tomorrow.
    
13. Here’s to Eve, the mother of us all, and here’s to Adam, who was Johnny-on-the-spot when the leaf began to fall.
    
14. Give a man a match and he’ll be warm for a minute, but set him on fire and he’ll be warm for the rest of his life.
    
15. Leprechauns, castles, good luck, and laughter. Lullabies, dreams, and love ever after. Poems and songs with pipes and drums. A thousand welcomes when anyone comes . . . That’s the Irish for you!
    

A
special thank-you to my sweet crit partners: Jeanetta Messmer, Virginia Rush, and Barbara Oden. Ladies, you make my job a lot more fun! Thanks for sticking with me during the eleventh-hour rush!

A huge thanks to my agent, Chip MacGregor, from Clan MacGregor. Life and health to you! Thanks for all you do to propel my career. I’m also very grateful for your prayers and undying support.

To my team at Revell:

Jennifer: Where do I begin? I’m blessed with an editor who truly gets me. That’s priceless! Thanks for letting me . . . be me!

Jessica: If I could write a limerick just for you, it would go something like this: “There once was a copy editor named Jess, who cleaned up each fictional mess. She scribbled and tweaked and bit back a shriek as one
author put her to the test!” (Now you see why I don’t write poetry!)

My publicity team: Michele, Donna, Claudia . . . you’ve become my support team. How can I ever thank you for making sure readers hear about my quirky tales? I’m eternally grateful.

My sales team: I raise my (nonalcoholic, of course) glass to you! Bless you for undergirding my work.

To my readers: Without you, this book would not exist. You insisted that I bring Bella back, and I did! I would never have had the courage to reshape the Rossi family without your input and advice. I’m especially grateful to the readers in my “dream team.” You named Bella’s children, for Pete’s sake! And you gave me wings to fly. Hugs to you all. Enjoy!

And finally, to the One who made all of this possible: Thank you for giving me a funny bone and teaching me how to use it to your glory.

Janice Thompson
is a Christian freelance author and a native Texan. She has four grown daughters, four sons-in-law, five beautiful granddaughters, and two grandsons. She resides in the greater Houston area, where the heat and humidity tend to reign. Janice started penning books at a young age and was blessed to have a screenplay produced in the early eighties, after living in the Los Angeles area for a time. From there she went on to write several large-scale musical comedies for a Houston school of the arts. She continues to direct at a Christian theater and enjoys her time in the director’s chair.

Currently, Janice has published over eighty novels and nonfiction books for the Christian market, most of them lighthearted. Working with quirky characters and story ideas suits this fun-loving author. She particularly enjoys contemporary, first-person romantic comedies. Janice loves sharing her faith with readers and hopes they will catch a glimpse of the real happily ever after in the pages of her books.

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Picture Perfect