life.
When Finn sings Brown-Eyed Girl , his song for me, I know it’s my cue that he’s moving from his set of love songs to current pop hits, and also my cue that I need to move on to the wedding rehearsal. Luckily, I don’t have far to go as the wedding will take place tomorrow afternoon on the north side of the lawn, outside the reception ballroom. Currently there are one hundred fifty chairs set up along two sides of the grass aisle. A trellis with white gardenias woven through the top sits at the end of the aisle where Samantha and Anthony will speak their vows. I can’t help but think how awesome it would be for Finn and me to speak wedding vows there someday ourselves, and how ironic it would be to continue to make huge life choices that involved my presence at Tremont Lodge despite its tragic role in my past. I guess the lodge is becoming much more to me than just a place. It’s weaving itself into my life in ways I’d never expected, and I’m not sure if I can ever separate from it again.
The wind picks up and knocks over a chair in the back row, which brings me back to reality, reminding me that dreams don’t always come true as planned, and that includes pulling off my first wedding as the acting director of social events when there is a 50% chance of pop-up thunderstorms during the afternoon.
“ There you are!”
Samantha. She stomps in my direction, her two inch heels sinking into the grass. I suppose our landscaping can be helped by her natural aerating of the grass. I smile despite the sour look on Samantha’s face. “I’m right on time and sooooo looking forward to this rehearsal,” I say, exaggerating my smile, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I wanted bows at the end of every other row of chairs. There are bows on every end chair.”
“No problem. I will simply remove the extra bows.” Seriously, bridezilla is not even a strong enough word to describe this girl. What did Finn ever see in her besides her large, perky breasts and long legs to die for? I suppose she’s intelligent enough but what a bitch.
“See, Sam, I told you it would all work out.” Anthony puts a hand on Samantha’s shoulder and squeezes. She doesn’t move away but doesn’t seem to relax, either.
She turns toward Anthony instead. “We are paying a lot of money to host our wedding here at this puny little resort. The least they could do was to get things the way we requested. Without guests like us, they wouldn’t have two legs to stand on.”
Anthony raises his eyebrows in shock and looks at me to see if I’m wincing in pain at her rude comments, but I am not. I find this interchange quite humorous to watch, actually. “Darling, you always spoke so highly of Tremont Lodge and the many memories you formed here over the years. What’s changed to have gotten you this upset?”
Samantha starts crying. “N…nothing. Ev…everything. It’s just not the same anymore.”
She looks up at me. Our eyes lock, and I do the first thing that comes to mind: smile. “Well, it seems as if the rest of the wedding party is here. Let’s start rehearsal, shall we?”
Anthony directs Samantha to the patio behind the chairs where he leaves her with the bridesmaids. I then send him and his five groomsmen to the front of the trellis where they will wait for the women to walk down the aisle. After a brief conversation with the minister, the rehearsal gets under way without a hitch. In fact, Samantha is even smiling a little when she and Anthony walk down the aisle together after having been pretend-introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Warren. Poor Anthony. I suppose his gold-digger radar is in need of a recharge, but I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to plug it in.
“Well, it looks like everything is set,” I say to the wedding party that is gathered on the patio now. “Be here by 1:00 tomorrow. Just as a reminder, there are two rooms off of the ballroom for you to get ready tomorrow—one for the ladies and
When Finn sings Brown-Eyed Girl , his song for me, I know it’s my cue that he’s moving from his set of love songs to current pop hits, and also my cue that I need to move on to the wedding rehearsal. Luckily, I don’t have far to go as the wedding will take place tomorrow afternoon on the north side of the lawn, outside the reception ballroom. Currently there are one hundred fifty chairs set up along two sides of the grass aisle. A trellis with white gardenias woven through the top sits at the end of the aisle where Samantha and Anthony will speak their vows. I can’t help but think how awesome it would be for Finn and me to speak wedding vows there someday ourselves, and how ironic it would be to continue to make huge life choices that involved my presence at Tremont Lodge despite its tragic role in my past. I guess the lodge is becoming much more to me than just a place. It’s weaving itself into my life in ways I’d never expected, and I’m not sure if I can ever separate from it again.
The wind picks up and knocks over a chair in the back row, which brings me back to reality, reminding me that dreams don’t always come true as planned, and that includes pulling off my first wedding as the acting director of social events when there is a 50% chance of pop-up thunderstorms during the afternoon.
“ There you are!”
Samantha. She stomps in my direction, her two inch heels sinking into the grass. I suppose our landscaping can be helped by her natural aerating of the grass. I smile despite the sour look on Samantha’s face. “I’m right on time and sooooo looking forward to this rehearsal,” I say, exaggerating my smile, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I wanted bows at the end of every other row of chairs. There are bows on every end chair.”
“No problem. I will simply remove the extra bows.” Seriously, bridezilla is not even a strong enough word to describe this girl. What did Finn ever see in her besides her large, perky breasts and long legs to die for? I suppose she’s intelligent enough but what a bitch.
“See, Sam, I told you it would all work out.” Anthony puts a hand on Samantha’s shoulder and squeezes. She doesn’t move away but doesn’t seem to relax, either.
She turns toward Anthony instead. “We are paying a lot of money to host our wedding here at this puny little resort. The least they could do was to get things the way we requested. Without guests like us, they wouldn’t have two legs to stand on.”
Anthony raises his eyebrows in shock and looks at me to see if I’m wincing in pain at her rude comments, but I am not. I find this interchange quite humorous to watch, actually. “Darling, you always spoke so highly of Tremont Lodge and the many memories you formed here over the years. What’s changed to have gotten you this upset?”
Samantha starts crying. “N…nothing. Ev…everything. It’s just not the same anymore.”
She looks up at me. Our eyes lock, and I do the first thing that comes to mind: smile. “Well, it seems as if the rest of the wedding party is here. Let’s start rehearsal, shall we?”
Anthony directs Samantha to the patio behind the chairs where he leaves her with the bridesmaids. I then send him and his five groomsmen to the front of the trellis where they will wait for the women to walk down the aisle. After a brief conversation with the minister, the rehearsal gets under way without a hitch. In fact, Samantha is even smiling a little when she and Anthony walk down the aisle together after having been pretend-introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Warren. Poor Anthony. I suppose his gold-digger radar is in need of a recharge, but I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to plug it in.
“Well, it looks like everything is set,” I say to the wedding party that is gathered on the patio now. “Be here by 1:00 tomorrow. Just as a reminder, there are two rooms off of the ballroom for you to get ready tomorrow—one for the ladies and
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