Beach Wedding (10 page)

“So first up, location,” I announce. “Have you had
any more ideas?”

Pixie shrugs. “Like I said, I really don’t mind.”

“Well, I had an idea for us,” I tell her, following the
highway south. “There’s a great old mansion about twenty
miles away. I remember when we were kids we used to go there for
parties. It’s right on the water, and it could make a perfect
backdrop for the ceremony.”

“Whatever you want, I’m good.” Pixie smiles.

I’m going to have to dig deeper.

“Tell me, how did you and Clyde meet?”

“Didn’t you watch the show?” Pixie asks.

“Yes, but, I want to know what it was like behind the scenes.
Tell me how you felt, what you remember. Don’t leave anything
out.”

“Well, we were filming for the third season,” Pixie
begins. “And Clyde’s label cut a deal for his comeback
album to be featured, so we would, like, go to their gig, and meet
them backstage and stuff.”

“You mean that was all set up?” I knew I shouldn’t
be surprised, but I’d watched the episode with Pixie and her
friends talking about how hysterical it would be to go see the
ancient rock group.

“Marcie arranged it,” Pixie nods. “Anyway, we went
backstage, and everyone was all over us.” She frowns at the
memory. “Guys always want to get camera time, you know? Like
they don’t care about me, just about everything happening
around me. It makes it really tough to meet anyone,” she says.
“Everyone just wants to be famous. But Clyde wasn’t like
that.” She brightens. “He was all, ‘screw these
losers,’ and we ditched the cameras and snuck out the back.
Marcie freaked when she heard about it,” Pixie giggles. “We
went all over the city, got hot dogs from this cart on the corner,
and he showed me how to play pinball in the arcade. Nobody looked
twice at me.” She smiles at the memory. “For one night, I
was, like, totally normal.”

I feel a pang of sympathy for the girl. In an ideal world, her
wedding would take place far away from Marcie, and the only cameras
around would be the disposable ones on the guest tables to
immortalize the night. But if we’re stuck in the middle of this
circus production, then at least I can give her some reminders of
that night.

“Well, how about we bring some of those memories into the
wedding theme?” I suggest. “We could have hot dogs on the
menu, and pinball machines at the reception for the guests to play.”

“Really?” Pixie gasps. “That would be awesome. But
do you think Marcie would mind?”

“You let me worry about Marcie,” I reassure her. “This
is your day. And what Pixie wants, Pixie gets!”

Soon, we reach the turn off for the mansion. The trees are overgrown
here, and the road is cracked and sandy as I drive carefully through
the shaded canopy. Then the shrubs fall away and the mansion comes
into view, sitting in the middle of tangled lawn, waist-high with
weeds.

Pixie bites her lip, trying not to make a face. “This place?”
she asks, sounding dubious.

“I know it looks like a mess, but I promise, once you see the
grounds you’ll love it.”

As we get out of the car, I cross my fingers that I’m right. I
always remembered that the place was run down, but the past ten years
have left it crumbling and disheveled. Still, there are the bones of
an incredible old house buried under all the grasses and dust. It’s
a grand, three-story mansion with broken stone columns and big
archways where the windows once were. I take it in, excited, as we
pick our way through the ruins. Already, I can imagine a dozen
possibilities for this beautiful space.

“What do you think?” I ask.

Pixie lets out a shriek, and clings to me as Buster barks. “Was
that a snake?” she demands.

“No,” I lie, taking her hand. “Come on, let’s
see the back.”

I lead Pixie around to the rear, where the overgrown lawn rolls
gently down to the ocean. There was a formal rose garden here once,
but now they grow wild, tangling with sea grasses and weeds in the
tall grass.

My excitement grows. “Just imagine, we can have the ceremony
out here, a gorgeous canopy right by the water. White chairs here,”
I say, pointing, “And an aisle picked out in white roses. We
would clean up the house a little too, sweep all the dust out and
cover the whole ground floor in more roses and little candles. You
could set up a dance floor on the lawn with room for a band,
celebrate as the sun goes down and party all night.”

I get shivers as I paint the scene. I know this is it, the perfect
romantic place.

“Wow.” Pixie looks around, her forehead furrowed. “You
really think you can make all that happen?”

“I know I can,” I vow. “Trust me, this will be the
most incredible wedding ever.”

“Well.... OK!” Pixie shrugs. Buster is running around,
sniffing at the broken-down statues. “Whatever you think!”

I know the point of today was to get the heart of what Pixie really
wants, but she doesn’t seem to have an opinion either way. And
already, I feel in my bones that this is the place. I can take every
hint of an idea she’s given me and turn it into one
spectacularly romantic day.

“How would you feel about white and pink for the color theme?”
I ask, as we head back to the car. “Would Clyde mind, do you
think?”

“He’ll do whatever I want,” Pixie replies sunnily.

“Still, we want him to feel included, too. Maybe if we bring in
some classic English food, it’ll represent him in the wedding.
Bangers and mash, a traditional roast.”

“OK!”

“And what about the music—” I stop as Pixie lets
out a big sigh. “Is everything OK?”

“Yes,” she says slowly. “I didn’t realize
there would be so much to plan!”

“It
is
your wedding,” I say gently.

“I know, but I guess I thought I’d just show up, say ‘I
do’, smile for the cameras. You know, like the rest of the
show.”

“You never pictured this day? Imagined it at all?”

“Nope.” Pixie shrugs. “Like, I’ve thought
about what I’ll wear if I ever win an Oscar, or get some big
award. Why, did you?”

I pause. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. What my dress
would look like. What music I want playing during our first dance…”
I trail off, realizing for the first time that I brought Pixie here
because it’s the setting I always imagined for my own wedding.
It’s exactly what I pictured all those years ago, daydreaming
in class the way romantic teenage girls do. The white roses, the
candles…

Luke standing at the top of the aisle.

I snap back. “But it’s fine that you haven’t,”
I reassure her. “It’s great that you’re staying so
relaxed about it all. After all, it’s not just the wedding that
matters; it’s what comes after. I bet you can’t wait to
be married to Clyde, and spend the rest of your lives together.”

Pixie makes a face. “Sure. I guess?”

My cell phone buzzes with a text, interrupting us. Marcie. “They
need us back on set,” I tell her. “Good to go?”

“As long as we stop for ice cream first.” Pixie is all
smiles again. “Do you think they do fat-free fro-yo? Marcie
says I need to lose ten pounds for the wedding.”

“I don’t think Eddie would know fro-yo if it slapped him
in the face,” I laugh. “But I won’t tell if you
don’t.”

I’m expecting Marcie to put up a fight over the mansion. Have
her big TV wedding in a demolition zone? But to my surprise, she
loves the idea. Or rather, she loves the idea of Pixie and Clyde
getting dirty, helping sweep floors, paint, and clean up the place
for the big day. “Ratings gold!” she exclaims happily. “I
could kiss you right now.”

“Hold that thought.” I back away carefully. “We
still need to get permission from the town.”

“Easy,” Marcie grins. “I’ve been greasing
palms, just like I told you.”

I can’t believe any Pelican Key council members would take
bribes, but I guess Marcie learns quick, because I hear the next day
that the church is getting a new roof – and we’re getting
permits to film the wedding at the mansion. There’s still a ton
of work to do, but Marcie’s got that under control, too. She’s
raving about a local construction crew she’s brought in to help
with the job.

That should have been my first warning, but I’m too busy with
wedding plans to pay much attention – until I pull up at the
mansion a couple of days later and find Luke’s blue truck
parked with the rest of the vehicles out front. He’s pulling
some plans from the flatbed, which is stacked with tools and
equipment.

My chest tightens. Of course the local crew is his company. I should
have guessed.

I get out of my car, and force myself to go over. “Hey,”
I wave.

He looks up. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Great.” My voice comes out sounding fake and loud.
Dial
it back, Ginny
! “I mean the plans are coming together. I’m
really happy they signed off on using the mansion. It’s going
to be beautiful. Thanks for lending a hand.”

“No problem. My guys love the overtime.” He smiles, and
puts his hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun as he looks
over at the building’s crumbling façade. “To tell
the truth, I’d do this one for free. I always loved this place,
thought about maybe trying to buy it one of these days and fix it up.
Restore it to its former glory.”

“You should,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “My finance guys say otherwise. This place is the
definition of ‘money pit’. You could pump thousands into
it, just getting the foundations right and those walls stable again.
Still…” he trails off, and I can see the itch in his
expression. He can see the potential too, just like when I toured
with Pixie.

“If anyone can do it, you can.”

Luke looks over; he seems surprised. “You suddenly get some
faith in me, Gin?”

His old nickname spreads through my body, warm as molasses. “I
always had faith,” I say quietly. “You were the one who
never dreamed big.”

“I had dreams, all right.” Luke’s expression
twists. “You and me, a house, a couple of kids. I guess it just
wasn’t as grand as your big future.”

His words hit me like a bolt. I open my mouth to reply, but he’s
already waving at someone across the site. “See you,” he
says casually, and strolls away.

I try to catch my breath. Is that what he believes, that I didn’t
think he was good enough for me? It wasn’t like that, not at
all. He was the best thing in my life back then, the only thing at
all. And that’s what pushed me on, piling my bags into the
truck that night with tears flowing down my cheeks. Knowing at
eighteen that my life needed to be bigger than one boy if I was going
to make anything of myself at all.

The construction site continues around me, oblivious to the pain
whirling in my chest. The whole production crew is here, plus Luke’s
guys, all doing their best to whip the mansion into half-presentable
shape within a couple of weeks. Across the courtyard, Nick and Neil
are filming the happy couple swinging some hammers, trying to knock
down a wall. Pixie’s wearing a bright pink protective mask, and
I can hear her shrieks every time a piece of concrete flies up in her
direction.

The sound brings me back to myself. I’m already running late,
so I hurry in to find Marcie. She’s set up mission control in
trailer at the back of the mansion. She’s got a couple of
laptops, two scared-looking interns, and three different phones
running as she plays traffic cop to the chaos.

“There you are.” She grabs my arm, exiting. “Walk
with me, I’ve only got five minutes.”

“OK.” I pull out my planning book. Theo and I have been
working overtime, figuring out the design for the big day. “I’ve
figured out the sketches for the main ceremony space—”

“What about flowers?” Marcie demands, not even looking.

“I told you, white roses. It’ll smell amazing.”

Marcie curls her lip. “White’ll wash out the shots,”
she says. “We need pops of color. And those balloons won’t
work,” she adds, grabbing my book and flipping the pages. “Let
me check with the network who the latest sponsors are. They’ll
want their logos in a prominent position if they’re footing
some of the bill.”

I try to take a deep breath. I’m used to picky brides, but
Marcie’s micromanaging is going way over the top. She’s
second-guessing every decision I try to make, and I’m not used
to having a boss with such
firm
opinions.

“OK,” I bite back my reply and smile. “Whatever
you need.”

Suddenly, a chunk of plaster crashes down just inches away. “Sorry!”
one of the construction guys yells down. “Might want to take
this further away,” he adds. “There’s going to be
plaster dust flying.”

Marcie rolls her eyes and steers me out the back to the lawns. It’s
a pretty impressive sight: dozens of people cleaning rocks and
rubble, attacking the weeds with mowers, and replanting the flower
beds. Pixie and Clyde have moved on to mowing. They’re being
filmed on the ride-on, cutting a path through the undergrowth.

“Do you ever look around sometimes and wonder what the hell
you did to wind up here?” Marcie’s voice comes suddenly.
I turn. She’s watching the chaos and slowly shaking her head.

“All the time,” I say quietly. My gaze goes to the man
striding across the back lawn with a tool-belt. Even with his face
turned away from me, I know that gait by heart. Luke. Now I’m
back, it seems I can’t get away from him.

Marcie follows my gaze, and brightens. “That’s the
developer, right? Hello… What’s his story?”

“Umm, I don’t know,” I say, cautious. “What
do you want to know?”

“Is he single?” she demands. “Or does he have his
high-school sweetheart waiting back at home with dinner and two
kids?”

“No, he doesn’t,” I say quietly, still watching
him. “Definitely not.”

“Perfect!” Marcie thrusts my folder back at me, fluffs up
her hair, and sashays over. “Luke?” she calls,
honey-sweet. “Can I have a moment?”