side of the garden, isn’t it? We want it to frame the mountains. I wonder how difficult a twig arbor would be to build? Surely there’s some local craftsperson.”
“White would be better,” Paul pointed out, “for the photographs.”
Catherine looked reluctant, and then asked Cici, “How difficult would it be to move the arbor to the other side of the garden?”
Cici’s eyebrows lifted into her bangs. “It’s anchored in two feet of concrete.”
Bridget pointed out, “A garden wedding can be risky around here in June. What if it rains?”
“Well, that’s the beauty, isn’t it?” exclaimed Catherine happily, waving an arm at her surroundings. “We won’t even have to rent tents—we have a built-in rain plan. The house is plenty big enough, and that barn looks brand-new! It could probably hold four or five hundred people, and how much fun would that be to decorate?”
“Well, I’m not sure...” Cici began.
Catherine reached across the table to squeeze Paul’s hand. “You are a genius, darling, and I’ll owe you for this for the rest of my life. I knew when I saw the photographs this was exactly what Traci wanted, but you’re the man who made it happen! How can I thank you?”
Paul preened under her praise. “Call it an early wedding present,” he said. “And, of course, a chance to visit with three of my favorite people in one of my favorite places in the world.” He winked at Cici. “Now I suppose there are a few details to work out...”
“Nonsense,” declared Catherine, “whatever is easiest for these lovely people is fine with us.” She unsnapped her purse and took out her checkbook. “The children,” she confided to Bridget as she uncapped her pen, “are so counterculture chic I was afraid we’d end up having the ceremony atop some mountain in Tibet. Can you imagine the logistical nightmare? I mean, the Sherpas alone would cost a fortune. So believe me when I tell you, we will do whatever it takes to work with you!”
Cici glanced quickly at Paul and then at the other two. “We’re not really professionals, you know,” she began. “I’m not sure—”
Catherine gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry a thing about it. Our wedding planner will take care of everything from setting up the chairs to ordering the flowers. Of course...” She paused thoughtfully. “It would be better to work with a local florist. I don’t suppose you could recommend someone?”
She tore a check out of her checkbook and presented it to Bridget. “Will this serve as a deposit? We’ll negotiate the catering separately, of course. Oh, and I do want to talk to you about providing gift baskets for the guests, and of course we’ll want to order much more elaborate, custom gift baskets for the bridal party.”
Cici saw the excitement building in Bridget’s face and she struggled to catch her eye. “We’ll certainly have to talk about it,” Cici said, deliberately pleasant. “It sounds like a big project.”
Bridget took the check and stared at it for a moment. She looked at Cici, her eyes big and her smile bright. “Not really,” she said. She passed it to Lindsay, who looked at it, struggling to keep her expression neutral, and passed it on to Cici. Cici drew a breath to reply to Bridget, glanced down at the check, and stopped.
She smiled, folded the check into her pocket, and lifted her glass of iced tea. “Of course,” she said, her smile growing expansive, “we love big projects.”
And Lindsay added, “I might know someone who can help you with the flowers.”
Suddenly the balmy afternoon quiet was shattered by the raucous screech of a rooster, followed almost immediately by the shrill scream of a human and the clatter and squawk of two dozen chickens. Bridget’s face lost color.
“Rodrigo!” she gasped.
Catherine cast an alarmed look over her shoulder. “Traci?”
The rooster brayed furiously. The girl screamed. Catherine cried, “Traci!”
The three women knew
“White would be better,” Paul pointed out, “for the photographs.”
Catherine looked reluctant, and then asked Cici, “How difficult would it be to move the arbor to the other side of the garden?”
Cici’s eyebrows lifted into her bangs. “It’s anchored in two feet of concrete.”
Bridget pointed out, “A garden wedding can be risky around here in June. What if it rains?”
“Well, that’s the beauty, isn’t it?” exclaimed Catherine happily, waving an arm at her surroundings. “We won’t even have to rent tents—we have a built-in rain plan. The house is plenty big enough, and that barn looks brand-new! It could probably hold four or five hundred people, and how much fun would that be to decorate?”
“Well, I’m not sure...” Cici began.
Catherine reached across the table to squeeze Paul’s hand. “You are a genius, darling, and I’ll owe you for this for the rest of my life. I knew when I saw the photographs this was exactly what Traci wanted, but you’re the man who made it happen! How can I thank you?”
Paul preened under her praise. “Call it an early wedding present,” he said. “And, of course, a chance to visit with three of my favorite people in one of my favorite places in the world.” He winked at Cici. “Now I suppose there are a few details to work out...”
“Nonsense,” declared Catherine, “whatever is easiest for these lovely people is fine with us.” She unsnapped her purse and took out her checkbook. “The children,” she confided to Bridget as she uncapped her pen, “are so counterculture chic I was afraid we’d end up having the ceremony atop some mountain in Tibet. Can you imagine the logistical nightmare? I mean, the Sherpas alone would cost a fortune. So believe me when I tell you, we will do whatever it takes to work with you!”
Cici glanced quickly at Paul and then at the other two. “We’re not really professionals, you know,” she began. “I’m not sure—”
Catherine gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry a thing about it. Our wedding planner will take care of everything from setting up the chairs to ordering the flowers. Of course...” She paused thoughtfully. “It would be better to work with a local florist. I don’t suppose you could recommend someone?”
She tore a check out of her checkbook and presented it to Bridget. “Will this serve as a deposit? We’ll negotiate the catering separately, of course. Oh, and I do want to talk to you about providing gift baskets for the guests, and of course we’ll want to order much more elaborate, custom gift baskets for the bridal party.”
Cici saw the excitement building in Bridget’s face and she struggled to catch her eye. “We’ll certainly have to talk about it,” Cici said, deliberately pleasant. “It sounds like a big project.”
Bridget took the check and stared at it for a moment. She looked at Cici, her eyes big and her smile bright. “Not really,” she said. She passed it to Lindsay, who looked at it, struggling to keep her expression neutral, and passed it on to Cici. Cici drew a breath to reply to Bridget, glanced down at the check, and stopped.
She smiled, folded the check into her pocket, and lifted her glass of iced tea. “Of course,” she said, her smile growing expansive, “we love big projects.”
And Lindsay added, “I might know someone who can help you with the flowers.”
Suddenly the balmy afternoon quiet was shattered by the raucous screech of a rooster, followed almost immediately by the shrill scream of a human and the clatter and squawk of two dozen chickens. Bridget’s face lost color.
“Rodrigo!” she gasped.
Catherine cast an alarmed look over her shoulder. “Traci?”
The rooster brayed furiously. The girl screamed. Catherine cried, “Traci!”
The three women knew
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