Page 134 of Kissing Kin

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“So instead of ’Til Death Do Us Part, it reads ’Til Death Do Us Party.” Luke gave my shoulder a friendly shake. “What do you think?”

Torn between laughing and crying, I smiled through my tears. “ ‘Y’ not?”

****

At noon, the bakery redelivered the cake. As that van drove off, a refrigerated flower truck arrived. But when the driver opened the back doors, he gasped from the blast of frigid air.

Afraid to ask, I steeled myself. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how this happened, but the flowers froze.” He checked the frost covered dial. “The thermometer’s always set to 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Now it reads seventeen.”

“Are the flowers salvageable?” I looked past him at the truck’s wilted blooms.

He shook his head. “They’re stiff now, but when they thaw, they’ll be a slimy mess.”

“The wedding’s in four hours.” I glanced at my watch, estimating the time to set up. “Can you deliver fresh floral centerpieces, boutonnieres, flower girl’s rose petals, bridal bouquet, aisle decorations, and arch garlands in the next hour?” I waved Luke over.

“It’s too late to order from the warehouse.” The man stuttered. “All I can do is deliver what’s in stock, and since we’re short-staffed today, the best I can promise is two hours.”

I turned as Luke approached. “Did you hear?”

Nodding, he shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Sorry…” The man closed the truck’s back doors. “I’ll make this a rush order, but…” He grimaced before stepping in his truck.

Luke put his arm around me as he gestured to the blue skies. “It’s a beautiful morning. You’re a lovely bride, and today’s our wedding day. Let’s not worry about details.”

“You’re right.” Despite the setbacks, I forced a smile. “But I can’t help wondering if Bea tampered with the thermostat.” Then the cold spots, hail, and thunderstorms came to mind. Or is this Valentina’s handiwork?

****

The rental company called, apologizing for the delay.

I breathed deeply, taking it in stride.

Two hours later, the florist delivered the flowers. But instead of roses with soft pink centers and champagne-colored petals, he brought orange mums and purple daisies.

The rental company arrived an hour before the wedding. As they set up the chairs, I rushed about, arranging the arch and aisle flowers. Then placing the centerpieces on the tables—the last task before getting dressed—I realized they had set up the tables on the grass. “What happened to the tent I ordered?”

The manager referred to her list. “Oops, my bad.” She gestured toward the clear skies. “But don’t worry. No rain’s in the forecast.”

What else? Though annoyed with the woman’s cavalier attitude, I was too beat-down to object. I checked the time: 3:10 pm. Fifty minutes until I walk down the aisle, and I haven’t even showered.

After tucking the boutonnieres, flower girl’s petals, and bridal bouquet in the fridge, I showered, slipped into my antique tea dress, and checked my reflection in the mirror. Something’s missing…the brooch. I pinned the cameo to my bodice and assessed the effect.

This time, instead of my outdoor glow and short bob, the mirror image showed a buttermilk complexion and upswept Gibson Girl hairdo.

Marianna?

Teddy barked.

I blinked, and my reflection appeared normal. Overactive imagination?

A rap at the door drew my attention, followed by Rosie’s voice. “Knock-knock.”

“Come in.” I checked the time: 3:40 pm. “The door’s unlocked.”

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