The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake (33 page)
“When did you talk to her?”
I fanned my hand at the air. “It’s not worth talking about, Vernon.
It’s just Doreen trying to get my goat.”
Vernon stepped toward me and wrapped me in his strong arms. I felt him kiss the side of my head. “Well, don’t let her do that again, you hear me?”
I nodded in agreement.
“Pretty soon,” he continued, “you and I will be husband and wife. You and me, Evie-girl, after all these years.”
I leaned back, supported by his arms. “After all these years,” I whispered.
And then he kissed me again.
“But what about Donna?” I asked when we broke for air. “Did
she say yes?”
Vernon shook his head. “That girl of mine flew past me so fast she was no more than a blur. All I heard was ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ and she was gone. Harris was left standing there looking a bit embarrassed.”
“Where were they?”
“Apple’s.”
“Apple’s? He proposed in Apple’s in the middle of a Friday afternoon?”
Vernon kissed the tip of my nose. “He did. Can you imagine?”
I hugged Vernon tight. “And they say Hollywood is romantic.”
I called my sister Peggy, who lives on the East Coast, later that evening so we could talk about the wedding, her and her family’s arrival for it, and just about anything else. It was reminiscent of so many, many years ago when she and I had burrowed under the thick comforter of her bed, plotting and planning
her
wedding.
“Do you remember the night before your wedding?” I asked now. “When we cuddled together in your bed and spoke of the wonders of love and marriage?”
“Oh, I certainly do, Evangeline.”
“Do you remember telling me that my Prince Charming would come soon enough?” I said. I was propped up in my bed. As I said the words, I slid to my back, turned off the bedside lamp, and then turned on my side, facing the other pillow. I drew it sideways and pretended it was Peggy and that she was lying beside me, as I had laid beside her all those years ago.
Peggy laughed from the other end. “It sure took him long enough,” she said.
“But I’m glad I waited for Vernon,” I said. “I’m glad I did.”
“I know you are.” Her voice was warm in the moonlight’s glow that bathed my room in a shimmering gray. “I’m just thanking God you’re marrying Vernon and not that Bob Barnett you were engaged to for all of five minutes a month or so ago.”
“Oh, please. Let’s not go there.” I was quick to change the subject. “Leigh and Gary are still coming, aren’t they?” I asked, speaking of my niece and her husband.
“Yes. With the baby, of course. They said they’d fly in on Saturday and stay at one of the inns in town. Matthew and I will arrive on Wednesday, and the boys will fly in with Leigh and Gary. We’re getting the boys a room at the inn too.”
I hadn’t seen my nephews in years, but I knew they were hardly boys
.
“Any special loves in their lives?”
Peggy sighed deeply. “They say not. They’re more interested in getting their individual medical degrees, and then they’ll talk about settling down.”
“Doctors, just like their father,” I said, sleepy but proud.
“So tell me about your dress, your bridesmaids, and all that fun stuff.”
“I feel bad that you aren’t going to be one of my attendants, Margaret,” I said.
I filled her in on all the details followed by, “Matthew ready to give me away?” I teased.
Peggy giggled. “Matthew said he was more than happy to give you away—and I quote—‘at long last.’”
I closed my eyes. “That stinker.”
“What about you and Vernon? What are your honeymoon plans?”
I blushed, I just know I did. “Vernon won’t tell. He says to think tropical and pack for warm weather.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“I can hardly wait,” I said and wiggled a bit, thinking of palm trees and coconut-flavored drinks.
“And how about your maids?” Peggy asked, bringing me back to Colorado and the chill.
“Donna has finally acquiesced to be the maid of honor, Vonnie the matron of honor.”
“How nice.”
“Lizzie and Goldie will be bridesmaids, and Lisa Leann is our wedding coordinator. When you’re here, remind me to sit down over a cup of coffee and tell you all about Lisa Leann and her plans for this wedding. She’s having so much fun I can hardly say no to anything she comes up with.”
“Like what?”
“Like everything!” I yawned. “I’m so tired, Peg. I’m going to sleep now.”
“You do that, Evangeline, and I’ll call you tomorrow. We have
a lot to talk about.”
I smiled. “Mmmm. Yes, we do,” I said, then hung up the phone
and fell right to sleep.
Sometime during the night, I dreamed of white lace and satin, tulle and taffeta, of bridesmaids in georgette dresses a shade Lisa Leann called “rose petal” but which I called “a pretty pink.” I watched blissfully as Donna and Vonnie stepped in rhythm to “The Bridal March” before me, both draped in flowing dresses in “azalea.” Through tearfilled eyes I saw Vernon, dressed so handsome in what Lisa Leann had described as an Oleg Cassini three-button peak tuxedo. Next
to him were his groomsmen.
I stepped down the aisle, my arm linked with Matthew’s. He whispered something endearing in my ear, and I giggled like a bride
of twenty.
Then, a movement from the left of the church—the bride’s side. I turned my gaze from my bridegroom to the distraction, and in my dream I saw myself as though I were having some sort of outof-
body experience.
I first frowned, then began to wail as Doreen Vesey stood up and began to laugh. She laughed and laughed and laughed that echoing kind of laugh you hear so often in old movies. And when she was done laughing, the man beside her laughed as well. I shifted my attention from her to him. It was Bob Barnett, my ex-fiancé. The
man I’d almost married over Vernon.
My dream had become a nightmare.
I awoke with a start.
Early on Sunday morning—a little more than a week after Donna’s victory and subsequent marriage proposal—Clay sat alone in his usual spot at Higher Grounds and nursed a hot cup of coffee.
When he’d come in at such an early hour, Sally had commented on the time. “You’re here practically before Larry,” she said. “Certainly before anyone else. What’s got you out of bed so early?” Then she eyed him. “And dressed so smart?”
Clay had blushed. “I’m going to church,” he said.
“With Britney?” Sally asked.
Clay merely nodded.
Now he sat sipping coffee and staring across the street to where Lisa Leann’s bridal shop was located. Just looking at it gave a man a lot to think about. He wondered where Donna was... what she was thinking about... why he hadn’t seen much of her lately.
It was then that Velvet James walked in, looking more like her sister than she ever had before. As she pulled herself out of her coat, she looked over at him, the lone patron of the restaurant. “Yeah, it’s me. Velvet,” she said, as though to quell any question
as to identity.
“I know,” he said. She was wearing skintight, hot pink jeans and
an even tighter matching sweater.
She joined him without invitation, called out to Sally, “Hot tea, please,” then laid her forearms on the table and leaned in. “So, what do you think of my sister’s marriage proposal?”
“I try not to think of it at all,” he said and set his coffee cup on
the table with a little too much force.
She smiled a half smile. “Touchy subject?”
“Donna is really none of your never-mind,” he answered.
Velvet sat back in her chair, crossing her legs as she did so. “Really?
She is my sister, after all.”
Clay picked up the coffee mug and took a long sip. “Only because you share the same mother.” He stood and set the mug down again. “And the way I see it, that’s not much to share.”
Lisa Leann
My, I had my hands full. My wedding consulting business had exploded since
Hollywood Nightly
had featured my shop as a backdrop to their newscast about Vonnie’s son. It was a smart move to get my web address on camera. I still don’t know why Henry pulled me away from my once-in-a-lifetime public service announcement.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he’d asked me once he got me back inside my shop. How strange he looked. Though it was a cold day, beads of sweat were popping out all over his forehead.
I put my hands on my hips and gave it to him straight. “Just trying to get a return on some of this money we’ve poured into this place.”
My TV spot—though shorter than it could have been—had done the trick. Since my national debut, I was booking and planning weddings down at the church, in exclusive ski resort hotel conference rooms, and on top of ski lifts (of all places), all to my little heart’s content. I’d known it would be awhile before I could pay Henry’s retirement fund back for buying and remodeling this charming Victorian. And since my grand opening had proved a financial bust, I was glad to finally have a few customers. Yes, things were looking up.
The only thing missing in this one-horse town was a good catering service. As it was now, I was one-stop shopping all by myself, including the food for today’s bridal shower for Evangeline.
So, early this morning, after waving to my husband, who was headed out for a ski day, I’d kissed my very pregnant daughter goodbye, then hightailed it down to my bridal boutique and my state-of-the
art, commercial-grade, stainless steel kitchen.
A little ditty played in my head as I arranged stuffed mushrooms and Irish and French cheeses onto silver platters.
Something old.
Something new.
Someone to wed in Summit View.
A girl could put something like that to music and upload it into an mp3 file on her website. I’d have to call Nelson. He’d know how to make it happen.
I laughed as I opened the door to one of my two double refrigerators and reached for a tray of my chicken and chutney sandwiches.
“Looking good, girlfriend,” I said to myself as I admired my handiwork. Today, the girls were in for a treat as they were going to get a sample of the wedding fare at our “multipurpose” shower,
makeover, and bridal gown fitting.
I heard the door of my bridal boutique jingle. “I’m back in the kitchen,” I called out.
Just as I’d hoped, it was Vonnie. She was dressed in one of her best appliquéd sweatshirts, featuring a bluebird on a picket fence. She’d coupled it with a pair of black slacks. I handed her one of my pink aprons embroidered with “Lisa Leann’s High Country Weddings” in white thread, just like the one I was wearing. Dora at Sew and Stitch had whipped them up for me on one of her prized embroidery machines.
Vonnie slipped the apron over her head and surveyed my trays. “Wow, this is some spread.”
“Remind me to give you the recipe for these stuffed mushrooms
before you leave,” I said.
“Is there anything else I can do to help you get ready for Evangeline’s big day?”
I looked up at her. “You mean besides stuffing mushrooms and keeping the bride happy? How’s that going, by the way?”
Vonnie giggled then helped me set the trays around the sitting room of my boutique, which sparkled in marble countertops and oak woodwork. “You know Evie; it’s one crisis after the other with her.” She put a tray of sandwiches on my marble-topped coffee table
then looked up. “Did you know I make a mean potato salad?”
“Really! We’ll have to talk about that,” I said as the door jingled again. I peeked out to see Goldie and Lizzie making their entrance. Through my romantically chiffon-draped front window, I could see Evangeline scurrying toward my front door. I rushed out the back of the kitchen then up the back staircase as I told Vonnie, “Could
you greet everyone? I’ll be down in just a sec.”
Once upstairs, I slipped into the floor-length bridesmaid’s dress I’d ordered for me. It was a chic satin number in rose petal pink with a golden blush, Evie’s favorite color. It was shockingly strapless and bare shouldered, a design that was all the rage in wedding wear. I’d been lucky to get five, one for me and for each of the Potluck bridesmaids.
I stepped back and looked in the mirror. I looked stunning in this $4,000 Vera Wang knockoff. Who would ever know, except the girls who’d have to pay for them, that I’d gotten them for the rock-bottom bargain price of $165 apiece?
I hovered at the top of the staircase that wound down into my sitting room, where all but Donna had gathered. I waited till the women were done hugging and congratulating Evangeline, then I slowly began to glide down the stairs.
“My lands!” Goldie exclaimed. “Lisa Leann, what is that you’re wearing?”
I batted my eyes appropriately. “You like? You have one just like
it upstairs in the dressing room, to try on later.”
Gasps filled the room. Vonnie said, “Are all the dresses so... so bare? I’d hate to think of the whole town watching my arms jiggle.”
