Page 65 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
‘Ooh, there’s Gracie! You’re going to love Gracie!’
Reba waved over the tallest, blondest, most beautiful woman Lily had seen in her life. She seemed to have thoroughbred somewhere in her genetic tree, or she’d had limb-lengthening surgery.
‘Wow,’ said Lily, wondering what it might be like to see over the shelves at Target. ‘How do you get jeans to fit?’
Gracie broke into an easy smile. ‘One of the great challenges of my life. Gracie Nivola.’
She held out a long, slim hand with a sensible, tidy manicure.
‘Lily,’ said Lily. ‘I’m so happy to finally meet you! Venus knows you through your sister, right? Honour. I really love her onTime After Time. She’s the perfect villain.’
‘She’s a sweetheart in real life, though.’ Gracie’s huge greyeyes crinkled at their corners – she clearly loved her sister. ‘And handles the fame like a pro. But me, well, I prefer to be on this side of the camera.’
‘I’ve seen your portfolio,’ said Lily. ‘You’re a miracle worker. The photos you did outside that coffee shop with that hot tattooed guy and that cute girl with the curls?Wow, Marie Curie wishes she had that chemistry. And Reba’s wedding? Reba, you were avision.’
Beaming, Reba patted the vessel she wore around her neck. ‘Best bloody day of my life.’
Gracie squeezed Reba’s hand, and the two were silent for a moment. Lily wondered if she was missing something – but maybe they were just reflecting of the joy of the day. There was something so sweet about Reba marrying late in life, although from what Lily had gleaned, it had been more a renewal of vows.
Venus threw down the shard of plate she’d been considering. ‘I need a moment,’ she said. ‘All this … makeup … is getting to me.’
Venus hurried off to the massive tie-dyed bridal tent which, according to the invoices Lily had received, Reba had spent the better part of the past month (and the better part of an Olympic swimming pool) dyeing.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Reba. She reached into her tie-dyed handbag and chucked Lily a pair of rainbow socks decorated with equally colourful bobbles. ‘Might want to bring these because I reckon she’s getting cold feet.’
‘Everything’sfine,’ insisted Venus, who was sitting cross-legged on one of the daybeds that Lily and her crew had spent the past few days putting together. She was sucking on a CBD vape asthough it held the meaning of life. ‘And the vape is a work thing. Not an addiction. We’re trying to get the dental association’s approval on this. But the damn dentists keep holding out. Every new product, it’s double-blind trial this, peer-reviewed that. You have no idea how stressful my life is.’
Lily took a seat on a tie-dyed pouffe, blinking: the sunlight playing off the tent gave the psychedelic decor an even trippier effect. She’d have to add some seasickness pills to the debauchery baskets that were going in each of the guest tents.
‘You’re right. I don’t,’ she said. ‘But I do know that you’re surrounded by amazing people who want your happy day to be perfection. And you have me.’
Venus sucked so hard on the vape that it made a warning beep. ‘Can we … go see a movie or something? Get my mind off rehearsals and all the questions from the M&A lawyers.’
It seemed like Reba might be right about those socks. ‘You don’t want to practise your vows?’ she asked gently.
Venus fiddled with her enormous engagement ring, turning it so that it faced her palm. ‘We can have my understudy do them. I’ll channel my energy as strongly as I can in their direction.’
Lily bit her lip. ‘But we already have a stand-in for Desmond. Isn’t it …’
Venus brightened. ‘That’s great. They can practise the wedding dance together, too – let me know how the choreography goes. Now, what’s playing?’
Lily dutifully pulled up the playlist for Rerunning Up That Hill on her phone. ‘If you’re lucky, we might catch aBarbarellashowing, with Mort on the piano. But are you sure your family won’t mind?’
Venus, who’d recovered her composure, waved a hand airily.‘They won’t even notice. You should invite Gracie and Reba as well. I like them.’
‘Whatever you say,’ said Lily, with false cheer. ‘You’re the bride, after all.’
Hopefully Venus knew what she was doing when it came to true love, because Lily certainly didn’t.
Oh, Good Grief
Mort
If there’s a song you don’t particularly want to hear blasted over the speaker in the downstairs prep room while you’re readying a body for an upcoming showing, it’s Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’. Mort – who’d been halfway through preparing Mrs Prescott (renowned boules player and cupcake baker, taken too soon after an unfortunate incident involving a fall from a stepladder while reaching for a mixing bowl on the top shelf) for an upcoming viewing – swore.
The embalming machine ticked as it slowly filled Mrs Prescott with a fluid that would keep her looking spiffy for years to come.
Mort lifted his gloved hands. Was it urgent? Was there a dead person on the front doorstep? Had those solar sales guys not taken the hint after he’d stuck the NO SOLICITING, THIS MEANS YOU, SOLAR SALES sign to the front door? Was Pickleball Candice back for the fourth time, beside herself that the fateful day marked on her funeral Save the Date was growing ever closer?
