A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) (21 page)

“It’s okay.”

“Just okay?” How could they have the reception here if he didn’t like the place?

“I don’t think that house is really us.”

What
was
really them? Tents and log cabins and houses with modern colored-glass lights hanging from the ceilings. Old leather furniture and flea-market coffee tables.

And mountains and rivers. “Did you like the idea of the raft?”

“Oh, yeah!” He turned to face her and pulled her to him. “Hey, if you want to get married up here and have the reception at that house, then that’s what we’ll do. I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too.”

“You know what—you’re the bride and it’s more important for you to be happy.” It was such a Drake thing to say.

She hadn’t sent out the wedding invitations yet. Like he’d said, it wasn’t too late to change her mind. Two different images battled there—one of her stepping off a raft in her beautiful dress and coming to a big reception with all her friends and family at the fancy Victorian, the other of her and Drake in Vegas. The two of them, their parents and a couple of friends, no one to clap when they walked down the aisle or dance at their reception or blow bubbles as they ran for their car. But there would be glitz and glamour and excitement. She gnawed on her lower lip.

“Hey,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “If this is what you want, this is what we’ll do.”

It
was
what she wanted, what she’d always wanted. She’d gotten sidetracked with the idea of going off to Vegas and getting married on the Treasure Island wedding ship. But this was the wedding she’d dreamed of when she was a little girl. Mom was right. If she abandoned that vision, she’d be sorry.

Still, she didn’t want Drake to have any regrets, either. She gave him one last chance. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I love you, babe. I want our wedding to be your dream come true.”

How had she lucked out, finding such a great guy? She thanked him and kissed him, then said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

With the issue finally settled, they went on to enjoy the amenities of Icicle Falls, eating dinner at Zelda’s, one of the town’s most popular restaurants, going dancing at the Red Barn and learning how to two-step. Although Drake had poked fun at country music, he’d enjoyed himself and even talked about getting a cowboy shirt, which made Laney laugh.

“Yeah, gauges and cowboy shirts really go together,” she teased.

“They could,” Drake insisted. “Why not?”

That was Drake, always full of crazy ideas. Was getting married on a raft going to be enough for him?

Chapter Twenty-One

Roberta, Letting Go

M
ayor Del Stone dropped by on Monday to discuss his daughter’s wedding, armed with a last-minute to-do list from his ex-wife in Oregon. “Mandy wanted me to check on a few things,” he said as they sat down in Roberta’s parlor with coffee and raspberry coffee cake. (Del never turned down a treat and he had the girth to prove it.) “She said she sent you an email yesterday, but hadn’t heard back.”

Roberta checked her emails twice a day. “I didn’t see anything.” Of course, Del’s wife had sent her so many over the past few weeks she wouldn’t have been surprised if one had fallen through the cracks.

“She changed the recipe for the nonalcoholic punch.” He handed over a piece of paper with a recipe printed on it.

That had been in a previous email, and Roberta already had it in the Stone-Woodhouse file. “Yes, I’ve got that,” she said politely.

He nodded and consulted his list. “My daughter changed her mind about the flowers. She wants stargazer lilies and...” He squinted. “Stepha—”

“Stephanotis,” Roberta supplied.

“That’s it.” He beamed as if he was a teacher and she an exceptionally bright student.

“Stephanotis symbolizes marital happiness.” Daphne had carried it in her bridal bouquet at her third wedding. Obviously, it took more than flowers.

“Anyway, can you let Heinrich know?”

“Certainly.”

“Mandy wants to make sure we can all get here for pictures at two instead of three. She thinks three will be cutting it too close.”

“That’s fine,” Roberta said.

“And she wants to make sure all the decorating will be done by then.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Okay, what else?” He consulted his list. “Oh, and you’re ordering an extra case of champagne, right?”

“Yes, Del, that’s been done.”

He nodded, looking the slightest bit sheepish. “Mandy is a perfectionist. I tried to tell her you’ve got everything under control, but she doesn’t listen to me.”

Roberta could understand why. Del was something of a blowhard and it wasn’t worth listening to two-thirds of what he said. And, if you asked Roberta, he wasn’t the most competent mayor the town had ever had. If he was, the potholes on Pine Street would’ve been fixed by now.

Still, he’d managed to glad-hand enough people to get himself reelected. And his daughter’s wedding was going to be the social event of the season. Every member of the Icicle Falls Chamber of Commerce had been invited as well as the mayor of Portland, all the Icicle Falls town councillors and even a state representative. This was definitely an important wedding.

“Del, you know you’re in good hands with us. No need to worry.”

At least, she hoped not. Her bunion surgery was scheduled for Wednesday and there was no way she’d be up and around by the wedding. But Lila would be covering for her. Daphne was going to help, too.

Daphne. Was she ready for prime time?

Roberta thought back to the mishaps that had occurred since her daughter had come aboard the
SS Wedding Special
. She’d better postpone her surgery. Daphne wasn’t hopeless, of course, but if she was going to be helping with the business as she kept insisting, she needed a few more weddings under her belt before taking on one of this magnitude.

Roberta assured Del again that everything would go smoothly and, after one more serving of coffee cake, showed him to the door. Then she got on the phone to the surgeon’s office, informing the receptionist she’d like to postpone her surgery.

Wouldn’t you know? Daphne picked that very moment to come home. “What are you doing?” she demanded as she set a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Let me call you back,” Roberta said and ended the call. She felt like a child caught doing something naughty, which was ridiculous.

“Why are you canceling your surgery?” Daphne asked. “You’ve been waiting to get this done for a month.”

“I don’t think this is a good time.”

“Why on earth not?”

Here was where it got sticky. How did she tell her daughter she didn’t trust her not to make a mess of this wedding without sounding as if she didn’t trust her? “There’s simply too much going on.”

Daphne’s big blue eyes narrowed. “I saw Mayor Stone driving away just now. Was he here talking about the wedding?”

“Er, yes.”

“You don’t think Lila and I can handle this alone.”

“It’s an important wedding, Daphne. I think I should be there.”

Daphne sighed in disgust. “Mother, we can handle this.”

She would have Lila there, and Lila was the soul of efficiency. But if Daphne happened to spill appetizers on the mayor’s daughter...

“I promise not to go anywhere near the bride with food,” Daphne said, reading her mind. “Or anyone else, for that matter. I’ll stay in the kitchen and help the caterers plate the dinner. And I won’t go near the cake,” she added, managing to smile at her mishap.

Roberta could smile now, too, although at the time she hadn’t been smiling. They’d had to call Cass and make a slapdash substitution. But Cass had pulled it off. Besides, anyone could trip. Although Roberta never had.

“Mother, you need this surgery. There’ll never be a convenient time. You’ll always have weddings booked and each one will be important.”

But probably not as important as this one.

“I know it’s hard to delegate, but if you could bring yourself to trust me, I promise it’ll all be fine. Everything’s already ordered and organized. What could go wrong?”

Any one of a hundred things. However, Daphne was right. It wasn’t easy to get in with the surgeon Roberta had scheduled. If she gave up this date, she’d probably be sorry.

“You can’t do everything yourself,” Daphne said gently. “It’s not good business. That’s why people have assistants.”

“All right,” Roberta said. “I’ll let you girls handle it.”

“Good.” Daphne’s tone of voice implied that it was about time Roberta came to her senses.

As if Roberta had no grounds for concern. Well, then, let Daphne demonstrate her efficiency. “You can start by checking with Ed York to make sure he got my message about ordering another case of champagne.”

Daphne already had her phone out and was typing on it. “Done,” she said a moment later.

The quickness of it made Roberta blink. “And I’ll need you to go over to Lupine Floral and see what they can give us that incorporates stargazer lilies and stephanotis instead of roses.”

“I can do that.”

Wait a minute. What was she thinking? She could do this herself. “On second thought, I’ll look after the flowers.”

“Mother,” Daphne said sternly. “I can go over there. You must have other things to do.”

Actually, she did. She had a pile of paperwork waiting for her and several calls to make.

“Trust me,” Daphne urged.

“All right. I do have several other things I need to take care of today.”

“Then take care of them. I’ve got this covered,” Daphne said. She kissed Roberta on the cheek and then went back to putting away groceries.

“Thank you, darling,” Roberta said.

As she went to her little office, she reassured herself that Daphne could indeed handle this, then tried not to think about how she’d neglected to order the invitations for her own daughter’s wedding on time.

That was then. This is now
, she told herself. Her daughter had emerged from her latest romantic rough patch and had her wits about her once more. All would be well.

But maybe Roberta should still postpone that surgery.

* * *

In the end, Roberta had her surgery on the original date. Daphne drove her over the mountains to Virginia Mason in Seattle and brought her home again, where she did an excellent job of caring for Roberta, as well as keeping the house running smoothly. They set Roberta up in the back parlor on the sofa with her foot propped on pillows (and Milo to keep her company) so she wouldn’t have to use the stairs.

“I’ll be happy to bring food up to you,” Daphne had offered, but Roberta had nixed the idea.

“I’d feel too isolated stuck up there.” She didn’t want to feel so cut off from what was going on in the rest of the house. And she wanted to be within hearing distance when Daphne was on the phone, handling last-minute wedding details.

This arrangement created almost as much work for her daughter as if they’d ensconced Roberta in her room, but Daphne never complained about having to run up and down stairs fetching fresh clothes, toiletry items or whatever book Roberta wanted. Could a mother ask for a better daughter?

And Daphne was certainly proving to be helpful, especially in the kitchen, Roberta thought as she enjoyed a shrimp salad Daphne had made for lunch. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea having her daughter live with her. For the most part they’d settled into a comfortable routine and were getting along quite well. Maybe having her more involved with the business wasn’t a bad idea, either. Perhaps someday she could take over. Perhaps now Daphne would, at last, come into her own and shine. Yes, Roberta should have suggested this long ago, groomed her daughter from the start. Or at least after her second divorce.

Well, it wasn’t too late. Daphne could learn the ropes now. Roberta smiled at the pleasant vision of Daphne becoming one of the town’s movers and shakers, working with the chamber of commerce, helping plan festivals. Even running for mayor someday. There was so much she could do if she’d develop a little more confidence in herself.

The girl could succeed if she had a mind to. All she needed was some motherly assistance, which Roberta was happy to offer every time the phone rang.

“Mother!” Daphne said after Roberta had insisted on talking to a woman who called about having a fall wedding at Primrose Haus. “I’m perfectly capable of answering questions about price and availability.”

“Of course you are,” Roberta agreed, “but I’m not helpless here. I don’t want to sit around like a lump watching TV all day.” Her foot was beginning to hurt and she popped another pain pill. And she was getting sleepy. The surgery had really taken it out of her. She needed a nap. “I think I’ll shut my eyes for a few minutes, though. I know you’ll see to everything while I do.”

“Good idea,” Daphne said, placated. She kissed Roberta on the forehead. “Have a good rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

And she did.

So when the day of the mayor’s daughter’s wedding came, Roberta wasn’t the least bit worried. Lila had things well in hand, and Daphne had sworn that every detail had been attended to, including shutting Milo in her room so he wouldn’t get underfoot.

That didn’t stop Roberta from putting on the special boot the doctor had prescribed for her and hobbling out to the reception room to see how things were coming along. Daphne had run to the store to pick up some Sweet Dreams chocolates (a last-minute request by Del), and Heinrich, the creative genius from Lupine Floral, had arrived himself to fuss with the flowers rather than leaving it to his partner, Kevin. In addition to the bridal bouquet and boutonnieres, he’d made small elegant arrangements for the tables, a larger one for the bridal party’s table and two for the front parlor. They were all exquisite concoctions of greens, baby’s breath and...roses. With not a single stargazer lily to be seen. And where was the stephanotis? What had gone wrong?

Daphne was supposed to have dealt with this. One quick visit to the florist—that was all she had to do. Roberta could feel her blood pressure rising like a jet taking off from the runway.

She looked at her wristwatch. It was edging toward noon. The bridal party would be showing up for pictures at two. Oh, dear.

She hobbled over to Heinrich as fast as she could. “Heinrich, these are beautiful,” she began.

He beamed, obviously pleased with the compliment.

“But where are the stargazer lilies and the stephanotis?”

He stared at her, befuddled. “Lilies?”

“Yes. The bride changed her mind and wanted lilies instead of roses. Daphne was supposed to let you know.”

Heinrich went from befuddled to horrified, placing a hand to his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Roberta was sure
she
was going to have a heart attack. “The bridal party will be here at two. Can you fix these before then?”

He frowned. “That’s like asking Michelangelo to hurry up and finish
David
.”

Oh, great. Of all times for Heinrich to remember he was an artiste.

He also remembered he was a businessman. “But for you I’ll move heaven and earth.” He picked up the huge arrangement from the buffet table, obscuring his entire head from view. “I’ll take these back to the shop and fix them.”

“Of course I’ll pay for the flowers you’ve already used,” Roberta said. She’d have to eat the cost; there was no getting around it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“No,” she said adamantly. “The one who makes the mistake should be the one to pay.” And sadly, that one was her. Or rather, her daughter. Honestly, if she couldn’t count on Daphne to do this, how could she count on her to take more responsibility for the business?

This was why her daughter had never climbed the ladder of success, Roberta thought as her blood pressure continued to soar through the clouds and into the upper stratosphere. Daphne was incompetent. Sweet and well-intentioned but incompetent. And this was the last wedding she was going to help with. Ever.

She was hobbling out of the room when the culprit came home, bearing two pink shopping bags filled with boxes of Sweet Dreams chocolates. Roberta’s displeasure must have sat like a billboard on her face because Daphne’s brows knit and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“The flowers,” Roberta said through gritted teeth.

Daphne looked around in surprise. “They’re not here yet.”

“They were here. They were here wrong.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The lilies,” Roberta said, her voice rising. “Heinrich had no idea he was supposed to substitute them for the roses. And there was no stephanotis, either.”

“How can that be?”

There was only one explanation. “Daphne, you obviously forgot to contact Lupine Floral.”