Page 2 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
Lily didn’t need to be told twice. She lugged her duffel past the patterned exterior tiles, then over the threshold, dropping it on the astonishingly beautiful parquetry flooring, which boasted ornamental flowers and sunbursts every few feet. A fireplace claimed one section of the wall, just begging for Lily to finally purchase the decorative brass peacock fireguard she’d had on her vision board for years.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ breathed Lily.
‘Isn’t it? You were lucky to get it. We had five hundred applicants for this space – including one from a scientist stationed in Antarctica. But sometimes the stars align.’
‘The scientist couldn’t make it back from Antarctica in time, huh?’
‘I said what I said,’ said Angela, with a grin.
Overhead, vintage floral light fixtures straight out of Murano gently spotlighted the vintage furniture and hanging artwork. Lily just wanted to stand on the magical spot where sunlightmet lamplight met firelight, feeling their communal warmth and staring out at the lush greenery outside. This must be what it felt like to be a cat: always seeking the sun.
‘What was it before this?’
‘A tailoring business. Janessa Hodges?’ Angela cocked her head as though Lily might have heard of her. The name rang a bell, but Lily couldn’t place it.
‘She made the most exquisite over-the-top outfits you’ve ever seen, mostly for celebrities and socialites. And Burning Man. Not for the faint of heart, or faint of pocket. Before that, we had a watchmaker, a glitter bomb delivery business and a luxury pet rock store. They peddled mostly in geodes. Before that, I believe it was actually part of the business next door.’ Angela gestured at the brick wall that separated the two buildings. ‘But that was before my time.’
Lily nodded, her eye catching on a decorative grille set about eye-height in the wall the realtor had pointed out. (Well, eye-height for a person of average height – tiptoe-height for Lily, who had stopped growing somewhere around sixth grade, in defiance of the height potions she’d mixed with her cousin Tessa. Or perhaps because of them, when she considered the ingredients.) She wondered what was going on over there, beneath the striped tent. At least they’d patched up the other side so that whatever poison they were using to zap the vermin they were waging war on wasn’t blasting through to her side of the wall. Especially since that wall was home to a gorgeous (and likely irreplaceable) antique desk and a fat leather chair. And, weirdly, a sledgehammer.
‘Nothing like stepping into a furnished place,’ said Angela. ‘Makes life so much easier. So does wine,’ she added, spinning the desk chair to reveal a welcome basket filled with wine and chocolate and bath bombs.
‘Oh, I like you,’ said Lily.
‘There are a bunch of gift cards in there for the village businesses as well. And a small business treasure hunt map. Get a stamp at each one, and come to the Chamber of Commerce to collect your prize. Do you have help to deal with those?’
She was referring to the stacks of packing boxes up against the far wall. These contained all sorts of knick-knacks and swatches and stationery samples, which Lily was looking forward to unpacking and setting out in a colourful array. Lily was a maximalist by nature, and there was no reason her shop should be any different.
‘I have a pocket knife and a bottle of wine,’ said Lily. ‘I’m all set.’
‘Oh, I should give you my wife’s card as well.’ Angela produced a card die cut in the shape of a typewriter.Tink Nowak. Type Upsetter.‘She does letterpress everything – cards, invitations, whatever your imagination can spin up. She has a studio higher up the hill, near the cinema. Might come in handy in your line of work.’
‘It absolutely would.’ Lily pocketed the card, noticing Angela clocking her ringless ring finger as she did so. That’s right, she’d committed the sin of being an unmarried wedding planner. ‘How’s the cinema?’
‘Amazing. Single screen, second-run movies, and the best popcorn you’ll ever eat. And they host book club, trivia night, you name it. You should come down tonight – it’s Tightass Tuesday, and there’s live piano music and everything.’
‘Sold. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with all of this.’ Lily gestured at the boxes waiting for her attention.
Angela’s phone was buzzing. ‘Ugh, that’ll be my 11 a.m., this investor bro who’s got his eye on this sweet old man’s house for a shitty flip. Thank God I’ve got the ear of the town planningcommission – I’ll get him so bogged down in permits he’ll run back to Silicon Valley with his slimy tail between his legs.’
Lily grinned. She couldn’t wait to unpack her decor and get to work. She already felt at home in her charming shop, with its equally charming upstairs apartment overlooking the pedestrian-filled promenade. Nowthatwas her dream commute. She could roll out of bed, head downstairs, and be right at her antique, soon-to-be-painted-pink desk. Not too shabby at all.
As Angela strode out on her stacked wooden heels, Lily snapped a pic of the space and sent it to Mom, who could do with the pick-me-up after her latest breakup.
Like mother, like daughter, texted back Mom.I knew you had my sharp business mind. And itinerant spirit.
Lily was texting back when a ringing sound shattered the peace: the yellow rotary phone on the desk was absolutely going off. Who knew those old phones were anything other than decorative?
‘Eternal Elegance, Lily speaking,’ she said, feeling very businesslike. Her first call at her new location! This was a champagne moment. Luckily in addition to Angela’s wine she had a whole carton of mini bottles of bubbly somewhere in the stack of boxes. In theory they were to taste-test with clients, but a girl deserved to celebrate her wins.
‘My husband’s dead. I need to make preparations,’ came a scratchy voice over the line. ‘Do you do that? And about the price …’
Lily blanched. ‘I don’t … I don’t think I can plan a wedding if one of the parties is dead.’
‘Isn’t this Eternal Elegance? Emphasis oneternal?’
‘Yes, but not like …’
‘Bah. I’ll try Coffins ’R’ Us down in Bayside. Ridiculous.’
