Page 5 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
She sighed, leaning back in her leather swivel chair (which was now topped with a freshly unpacked pink shag throw pillow) and sipping urgently at her prosecco. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps they could send each other business. And at least they were next door to each other, so it was just a matter of Lily escorting a bereaved widow a few steps, and Mort scooting a happy couple away from a coffin or a burial plot.
Would Mort do that, though? Would he send them her way, or would he just warn them sternly that all love ended in death, and that they might as well save themselves the hassle – and the bill – and put that money towards funeral insurance instead?
Lily sighed. It seemed unfair that someone so deathly handsome could be so … deathly inclined.
Her phone buzzed. Annika.
Well??? How is it???
Lily snapped a photo of the shop and texted it back.It’s perfect.
Make sure you stay long enough that I can come visit!!!
(Annika was not one for restraint when it came to punctuation. Or emojis. Or anything in life, really.)
Promise, texted back Lily. But before she could hit send, her phone rang.
‘Eternal Elegance,’ said Lily, a smile brushing her lips as she said the new business name aloud.
‘Lily! It’s Rina Morgan and Emmett Smiley. We’re the Christmas in July wedding.’
‘In July,’ added Emmett helpfully.
‘Believe me, I’m as excited as you are,’ said Lily. She eyed the stack of cardboard boxes filled with props and decor ideas. This particular wedding was one of two she’d inherited from a friend of a friend, herself a wedding planner who’d needed to take a leave of absence in order to plan her own wedding. After seeing Lily’s viral post, she’d slid into Lily’s DMs asking her to take over the planning honours. And so a clientele and a profitable P&L was born.
Thankfully the big pieces – the venue and catering – had already been put in place by the previous planner, and Lily just had the details to work on. Like finding a suitable Santa. And sending out ‘nice list’ invitations to their formidable guest list. Which reminded Lily that she needed to call Tink the printmaker.
‘We can’t wait!’ Rina’s voice buzzed with eagerness, and perhaps some seasonally inappropriate eggnog. ‘Did you see the inflatable candy cane pictures we sent you? They’d look amazing lining the aisle.’
‘They really would,’ agreed Lily, pulling up the wedding mood board on her laptop and adding it to her inspiration collage. Wow, she could almost smell the peppermint spilling off the screen.
‘Oh, and we were thinking maybe that one of us could jump out of a snowdome? Probably Emmett. He was a high jumper in college.’
‘Love it,’ said Lily, adding a note about a sexy snowdome in the margins of the mood board.
‘So, there is one thing,’ said Rina.
Oh good. Just one thing. The thing was that when it came to weddings, thejust one thingwas never something small. It was the sort of thing you needed a PhD in International Relations to successfully navigate. Or some expertise in bomb defusing.
But Lily could do this. She had her cute new shop and her cute new sign, and business cards on the way. There was no turning back now.
‘Absolutely!’ she said brightly.
‘It’s … the seating plan. We have some, I suppose you’d say complicated family dynamics. Some people have a family tree; I have a family boa constrictor. Is it okay if I send over my notes to you? I think maybe an impartial third party might be the way to go.’
‘If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s musical chairs,’ lied Lily. (She actually had a highly complicated relationship with musical chairs, having been taught from an early age to always give up her chair to someone else who needed it.) ‘Send them over whenever you’re ready.’
There was the distinct sound of sleigh bells ringing in the background as Rina clapped her hands, then rang off. Then, oddly, the jingling sound of sleigh bells switched to the sharp tones of an organ.
Lily checked her phone just in case the Addams family was calling – nope. She glanced around. Where was that coming from? Was someone pranking her? She paused, trying to triangulate the source of the music. Turning, she realised it was coming through the grille above her head.
‘Hello? Mort?’ she said uncertainly.
‘This is he. You’re not a ghost, I hope?’ came Mort’s muffled voice.
Lily knelt on her chair, leaning against its upholstered back. ‘I was going to ask the same thing. It’s just Lily from next door. We share a grille.’
‘I hope I’m not bothering you.’
