Buzzkill (Pecan Bayou Series) (3 page)

“Leo, what a
romantic you are!” I teased.

“I’m a realist,
that’s all. It’s always good to figure things out beforehand. That’s how I plot
thunderstorms, you know.”

Leo’s way of
planning ahead reminded me of the secret he kept from me when we first met. He
came to town on the story that he was part of a real estate investment firm,
but in truth he was a meteorologist from Dallas. He also told me that Tyler was
his son, then it came out later he was his sister’s son. Would this be a
pattern we would follow into marriage? Leo was a wonderful, kind and caring
man. I knew in my heart it could never be the disaster it turned out to be with
Barry, but would there be other secrets I would uncover along the way?

“So are we
finished with the latest batch of details?” Leo scooted over and planted a kiss
on the side of my neck. I felt my heart speeding up slightly. He kissed my neck
again, starting to work his way down. I reached back and pulled him to me.

We were finished
with wedding planning for the evening.

******

The next
morning, I threw on some jeans and a red sweater and was just brushing through
my hair when I heard Leo coming in the back door with donuts. Tyler ran in
front of me to the living room, where Zach was now dressed and tying his shoes.

Leo pulled me
into his arms and kissed me. He smelled of soap and tasted like chocolate
icing. What a nice way to start the day!

“Now that’s the
way to say ‘hello,’” I whispered.

“You should
check out my ‘hola,’” he replied.

“Gross, you
guys,” Tyler said. “You do know about germs? We are in the cold and flu season
you know.”

Leo grinned.
“Yes, I heard that, so that’s why we’re all going down to the drug store to get
flu shots this morning.”

“That’ll get us
on the road on time,” I said. “Not really, boys.”

“Tell me our
to-do list today Ms. Bridezilla,” said Leo.

I hit his chest.
“Stop calling me that. I am nothing like those crazy brides on TV. I’m
low-maintenance, remember?”

“Right. So where
are we going?”

“First we’re
stopping by the community church to make sure we can get married there.”

“I think I can
pass the written test. After that?”

“After that
we’re off for some wedding cake tasting.”

“I’m definitely
on board for that,” he said, grinning.

Pastor Green was
out on the lawn of the church changing the sign for Sunday’s message when we
pulled into the church parking lot. He waved to us just as he was closing the
glass after replacing the letters inside.

“Pastor Green,
I’m so glad we caught you,” I said as we crossed the brown winter lawn of the
church.

Pastor Green was
the brother of Ruby Green, our town beautician,.  He raised his eyebrows and
smiled at Leo as if he were a pleasant surprise.  “Hello, Betsy. Is this your
young man?”

“Oh, yes. Let me
introduce you to Leo Fitzpatrick.” I gestured to Leo.

“Nice to meet
you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I hear you’re a weatherman,” said Pastor Green said .

I turned to the
boys, just now getting out of the car. “And you’ve met Zach, and this is Tyler,
Leo’s son,” I said.

“Well, you’ll
certainly have a full house,” said the pastor. “Boys, we have a little
playground over there. I know you’re pretty big, but you might find something
that interests you.” Tyler and Zach took off running.  “I was about to call
you, Betsy. It’s quite fortunate you stopped by. I know we spoke of your
wedding being on the weekend of February 14, but well, our congregation has
been blessed with some good news since then. You aren’t a member here, so you
wouldn’t know about this, but our very own Prissy Olin has decided to marry
Theodore Obermeyer, the mayor’s son, on that very same day. I know you were
counting on using the church, too, so I’ve come up with a plan to keep all the brides
happy.”

“It’s important
to keep the brides happy,” Leo said.

We will have
both weddings, but the Olin wedding, which will probably require more cleanup,
will be scheduled right after yours. We have an hour between the two ceremonies
to take your flowers out and put hers in. I hope this isn’t too much of a
bother.”

I held up my
hand to stop the reverend. “Seriously? You want to have back-to-back weddings?”

Pastor Green
reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. “It
is
Valentine’s Day,
dear, and I am so sorry. I could possibly accommodate you the next weekend.”

“The next
weekend?”

“I’m free that
weekend,” Leo said.

“I suppose we
could.” I leaned up against the sign and crossed my arms. I knew what I wanted
to say would make them think I was just another picky bride, but this was the
last wedding I planned to have in my life, so I spoke up. “I really wanted to
get married on Valentine’s Day, and I’m not sure if we can get Mr. Andre, our
wedding planner, for the next weekend.”

“Well, then
we’ll just have two weddings on the same day.”

“Have the Olins
and the Obermeyers agreed to this?” I asked.

“Most of them
have. Prissy was a little put out, but as the day gets closer I doubt it will
be an issue. Nothing like wedding planning to keep a bride busy.”

That was an
understatement. “Do you know of any good locations for a reception that other
couples have used?” I asked.

“There are many
lovely places for a reception around here. There’s the new Chateau Fischer, and
if that isn’t available you might even be able to grab the VFW Hall.”

“I guess it’s
time to get creative,” I said. “As much as I love the smell of stale beer and
cigarettes, I think we’ll pass on the VFW Hall. Where is Chateau Fischer?”

“It’s out by the
bayou, just down the road from the baseball fields and Wilhelm’s Bed and
Breakfast. Morton and Yancey Fischer have done some beautiful things out there
and hope to open it in time for the wedding season. I don’t think they’ve
booked anything yet, so it just might be your answer,” said Pastor Green. “Let me
get their number and you can see if they’re out there this morning. He turned
and went into the church.”

“I’m having a
hard time remembering anything out in that direction,” I said.

“It sounds
interesting. It might be nice to have something outdoors with nature all around
us,” Leo said.

“And if it
rains?”

“You’re hanging
around with a bunch of weathermen. I guarantee they all have umbrellas in their
cars.”

Pastor Green
came back out of the building and handed me a piece of paper with a number
scrawled on it.

“Thanks,” I
said.

“I’m just sorry
we’re so popular on that day,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “We would
love to have your family join the church after you’re married. We have some
fine folks in our congregation.”

“We’re not even
sure where we’re going to be living yet,” I said. Leo’s eyes darted to mine.

“My job is in
Dallas,” Leo said.

“Ah yes,  Big
D,” said the pastor. “Well, whatever you decide, you’re always welcome here.”

A rumble of
thunder pierced the air. Pastor Green hunched his shoulders and looked up.
“Better be getting back inside. Looks like we’re about to get some rain. Nice
of you to stop by.”

Leo gestured to
call the boys off the swings. “Come on boys, let’s go.” They jumped off the
swings and ran across the lawn.

As we made our
way back to the car, the rain started falling heavily.

Once we were
securely inside the car, I started punching in the number Pastor Green gave me.
A voice on the other end answered as the rain drummed on the outside of the
SUV. Yancey Fischer, co-owner of Chateau Fischer, happily informed me that we
were welcome to come visit Chateau Fischer, provided we didn’t mind a little
mud. How romantic.

Chateau Fischer
was slightly less glamorous than its name. The “chateau” was nowhere in
sight. I think I would have named it Fischer’s Field instead. Morton Fischer
was pounding in a sign at the end of the road that led to Pecan Bayou’s newest
wedding venue. We pulled up as he placed the hammer into the pocket of his aged
denim overalls, which fit snugly over his bulging midsection.

“Mornin’ Miss
Happy Hinter! Are you thinking of saying your nuptials here at Chateau
Fischer?” he said cheerily. “We would be so pleased if you would write about it
in your column in the Gazette. The whole world needs to know about our little
patch of paradise here.”

“Thank you,
Morton. I’ll be sure to take notes,” I said from the passenger seat.

“When you write
it up, make sure you put my name first, not Yancey. Do it the alphabetical
way,” he said. “Now, you just follow the road and it’ll take you to our new
event area.”

I nodded in
acknowledgment as Leo rolled up the window. We drove down a road lined with
towering oaks that stretched their scraggly winter branches over us. The road
wound around until it fronted Pecan Bayou. The bayou was pretty stable now,
although it had some marshy areas on the other side. Whatever the Fischer
brothers had set up, it would need to be several feet back from the bayou in
case the water levels rose. The Bayou Restaurant on the other side had a deck
up on stilts for just that reason.

“Can you imagine
getting married here in July or August?” I said.

“Sounds like
fifty shades of sweat to me,” Leo said.

We pulled into a
cleared field marked “parking” and then experienced the complete effect of
Chateau Fischer. Yancey Fischer was unfolding chairs and sliding them beneath
tables under a white canopy. He wiped off a tabletop with a hankie from his
pocket and then turned to greet us.

“So glad you
folks came out to visit today. I was a little surprised at your call this
morning,” he said. “We’re really just getting started out here. I think Morton
has talked to a few people, but you’ll be our first event.” He gestured to the
white canvas awning behind him. “As you can see, this will be our tent for your
reception. We have seating here for three hundred and can set up a bar on the
side.” Yancey dabbed at raindrops on his forehead with his hankie, then
returned it his pants pocket. Much thinner than his brother, his suit seemed to
hang on him.

Morton came up
the road in his green pickup truck. The door squeaked loudly as he opened it.
Putting on his baseball cap, he joined our little group. Morton put his burly
arm around my shoulders.

“Mrs.
Livingston, I just have to show you the altar God created for us,” Morton said.

“Morty, I was
about to get to that,” said his brother.

“Sorry, big
brother, I got excited,” said Morton, not removing his grasp on me. We walked a
few feet closer to the woods. “I’ve personally planted white roses to encircle
the altar. I’ve studied flowers from all over the state and believe they will
add a beautiful ambiance to your vows. This here is an altar that God created,”
he smiled bashfully, “with a little help from me.”

“Morty is a
member of the community church. We’re expecting plenty of church picnics and
barbecues out here. Did you bring the brochure for these nice folks?” Yancey
asked.

Morton Fischer
tapped his forehead. “Shoot, sorry. It’s back in the truck, I’ll just go get
it.”

“Catch up with
us, then,” Yancey said. “Morton can be forgetful sometimes, but you sure can’t
choose your family when you need them for a business partner.”

We walked toward
a line of large trees that created a natural cathedral sanctuary in the way
they lined the field.

“Right now most
of the leaves are gone, of course, but in the spring and summer the effect is
outstanding. Right here we have all the best parts of Pecan Bayou – the water,
the trees and the glory of Texas.”

We stood gazing
at the crisscross patterns of the scraggly branches connecting the trees. I
opened up my white planning notebook and started taking notes. Morton returned
to the group, holding out a glossy brochure of Chateau Fischer Event Center.

“Oh, I see you
got one those fancy wedding planners,” Yancey said, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes, we were
lucky to get him. He’s really helped organize all the little details. I need to
give you his card.” I said, fishing a card out of the binder. “He likes to be
in contact with all of the local merchants we employ to sort of coordinate it
all from mission control.”

Yancey took the
card. “Excellent, we can contact …” He looked down at the purple-trimmed card
with Mr. Andre’s picture in the corner, “Uh, Mr. Andrew.”

Morton looked at
the picture and scratched his head.

“Mr. Andre,” Leo
said. “He hates it when people mispronounce his name.”

“A little
pretentious for this part of Texas, don’t you think?” said Yancey.

“Pretention is
what wedding planning is all about,” Leo said dryly.

The boys were
now running around in the field behind us. The rain had let up, and it was
turning into a wonderful day. In an impromptu game of tag, Tyler was chasing
Zach, who was getting dangerously close to the bank of the bayou.

“Zach, be
careful, you could fall in!” I called out, trying not to notice the mud they
were kicking up.

“Don’t worry,
Mom. I don’t see any gators out there.”

“Gators?” Leo
said. “Do you have many gators coming up on the shore?”

Morton took off
his ball cap and scratched his head. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

Yancey put a
hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Like Morton said, God’s cathedral, this area.
It was  surely meant to be the perfect wedding venue for lovely people like
you.”

Leo kept looking
out at the water. “What body of water does this bayou feed off of?”