Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) (25 page)

Saturday, March 15th

I don't know if I should be doing weddings in my current state of mind. Everything about them pisses me off. Everyone's gushing about how much in love they are. The bride and groom just can't wait to walk down the aisle into marital bliss. It's disgusting. It turns my stomach until I want to scream at them all. Their guests are all just stupid people who irritate the hell out of me.

Today, we had bubbles for the staged exit. Little, tiny plastic bottles with just enough soapy solution to create a beautiful bubble-filled backdrop for the bride and groom's photos as they exit through their guests.

As I stood there with my basket repeating my spiel to each guest telling them to line up on either side of the sidewalk to blow bubbles as the bride and groom leave, some freakin' idiot asked me if they were supposed to throw the bubbles.

Like, I offered him the basket and said, "Please take a bottle of bubbles to blow as the bride and groom exit."

And he looked back at me and earnestly asked, "Do we throw these?"

It took everything I had in me not to answer, "Why, yes, sir. You just toss these here hard plastic bottles right at the bride and groom. In fact, we'll give you a free drink at the bar if you can peg the bride right between the eyes. And later, we're gonna pass out potato chips in baskets for no damned reason at all."

WTF.

Where do these people come from, and how do they navigate everyday life without killing themselves or others in their ignorance? I mean, really. You got yourself dressed, boarded a plane, made it from the airport to your hotel, then managed to get yourself here for the ceremony, but you have to ask me if I want you to throw something hard and plastic at the bride and groom? Are you kidding me?

Laura put her arm around my shoulders as we walked to the car after the event and asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

She shook her head and chuckled under her breath. "Let's go get a coffee."

"I don't want a coffee," I said, stubbornly refusing to give up my armor of bitchiness. I knew if I let my guard down I would fall all to pieces, and I couldn't do that.

"Then we'll get ice cream, but I'm not taking no for an answer."

I explained the situation to her over a salted caramel sundae, and I marveled again at how easily I pour my heart out to my bosses. I really think I need to pony up for a good therapist. I tell my life story much too often to way too many people. Isn't that what this stupid diary is supposed to be for?

"I just thought I'd finally found The One, and I'd be happy, you know? Happily ever after, they say."

Laura nodded and licked her spoon. "Ah, the inherent fallacy of the fairy tale. Happily Ever After doesn't mean happy every day. They don't tell you that, do they?"

"I know that. But it can't be the right thing if there's this much conflict. If it's this hard to make it work, then he must not be the one for me. Am I right?"

She took another bite of ice cream and rolled the spoon on her tongue. "So, you think there's just one?"

I thought about it for a moment before I answered. "I don't guess. I don't know. I mean, I don't think there's one guy who'll ride in and fix it all. That's unrealistic, but I do believe if he's the right one, it will just click. Like you'll just know it. If I didn't know it for five years, then maybe I don't love him after all. And if he's been through all this with me and he doesn't know whether or not he loves me, then I must not be the one for him. Right?"

"Hard to say. Sometimes it just doesn't work, even if you do love each other, and you have to cut your losses and walk away. I believe in soul mates, but I also believe you can love different people at different times of your life. Or even love the same person in different ways depending on where you're at in life. Take Henry and I. We started dating at seventeen and got married at eighteen. Young. Had our two boys, and then we split. We just couldn't make it work. Fighting all the time. Not agreeing on anything. We had gotten to the point where we had more contempt than anything else. I wasn't in love with him anymore, and I decided I couldn't stay a day longer. We divorced and spent two years apart."

Ice cream dripped from my spoon and onto my hand as I stared at her, open-mouthed. "Wow! I never knew. I thought you guys were rock-solid."

"We are, now. We both dated other people when we went our separate ways. We kept in touch, of course. Saw each other. We had two kids together so we had to. But I thought we were done. I guess our hearts weren't. Eventually we rekindled those flames smoldering somewhere down in there. Hotter and brighter than ever. When we remarried, we had a completely different relationship. I had changed so much. Him, too. We weren't the same people anymore. But our love grew stronger and more mature. We've been married fourteen years this time, and I can't imagine my life without him."

"I'm stunned. I always looked at you guys like the perfect couple. I never would have guessed."

"We're not perfect." She shook her head as she scraped the bottom of her ice cream bowl. "We have our rough spots here and there. Everybody does."

She put the spoon and bowl down and wiped her face with the napkin. "Look, Tyler. I'm not saying you and Cabe will end up together, and I'm not saying you won't. What I
am
saying is don't expect love to be easy. No matter who you're in love with and no matter how much you love 'em, we're dealing with human beings. And we all can be fragile, messed up, broken little creatures. No one is perfect. No relationship is either."

I swirled my spoon in the melted ice cream and cursed love for being so damned difficult.

I haven't heard a word from Cabe all week, which I guess is to be expected since I told him to get out of my house and not come back until he could tell me he loved me for sure.

In related news, I'm a little surprised and a tad bit hurt that I haven't heard from Jack either. I knew it was a weekend fling. Both of us swept away by the location and not wanting to experience it alone. But I would have thought I'd at least get a phone call. Not that I need the added drama. All I need is for Cabe to come back with love declarations and Jack be hanging on the line.

Saturday, March 22nd

Today was my last straw. I knew at the end of four back-to-back weddings at Lakeside Gardens that whether it makes Lillian and Laura mad or not, I have to go in Monday and tell them I can't do this job.

I resorted to calling security during the first wedding because the father of the bride—who was drunk at ten in the morning, I might add—threatened the groom, took a swing at the best man, and shoved his wife into a wall. It was like being in the live studio audience of the Jerry Springer show and then realizing I was supposed to be the stage manager for the crazies.

The second wedding's couple tried to sneak a dog into the chapel. Like I wouldn't see a fluffy little poodle trotting down the aisle in a pink tutu? Or hear it bark every time the organ played? Really, people?

Then lightning struck just as we were getting ready to start the third wedding. Blew out the entire sound system and caused a ringing in my ears that may end up being permanent. We thought for a while it had blown the lighting system too, but the lights blinked a couple of times and came back on. The bride and groom were so gracious about it all, even without microphones and music for their ceremony. They laughed it off and posed for pictures with the firemen sent out as a precaution.

The last wedding, however, is what pushed me over the edge. Due to the horrendous storm earlier, the buses were all late picking up the guests, and it also caused pre-ceremony photos to be delayed. When the limo delivered the mother of the bride, she was completely distraught over timing as well as concerned about the risk to the bride's hair and gown in the nasty weather. She'd already been on edge before the first raindrop fell because the rehearsal dinner location last night had royally messed up the menus and the seating, and the hotel had put her and her husband in a smoking room. I knew all this because she ranted about it all the way down the sidewalk to the chapel as I carried the umbrella over her.

When she finally paused for me to get a word in, I explained about the lightning and having no sound system or microphones.

To say she lost her shit would be an understatement. I have never had anyone speak to me in such a manner, nor have I seen any other human being treat a living soul so poorly.

She screamed at me until her eyes were bloodshot and her lips were purple beneath the spittle that had gathered in the corners. The limo driver tried to come to my rescue, but she wheeled on him like a demon fighting an exorcism, so he quietly retreated back to his car. One of her guests tried to calm her down, but Demon Lady threw him out of the wedding and told him she never wanted to see him again. When her own daughter, the bride, came out of the dressing room to tell her she needed to let it go, I thought her head may explode off the top of her body and shower us all with hot lava-like boiling blood.

Demon Lady motioned for me to follow her inside the restroom, and I tagged along like a loyal puppy, not knowing what else to do. Once inside, she continued to scream and shout obscenities at me as she entered a stall, hiked her skirt to pee, wiped her privates, and then washed her hands. All without taking a breath, missing a beat, or breaking stream.

So here's the deal. I know being a senior planner won't prevent me from having drunk guests, or people who break the rules, or lightning strikes, or rude and irate clients who can pee and yell at the same time without closing the stall door.

But at least as the planner I'm forging a relationship and have some idea what to expect. I'll know from the get-go when I'm dealing with a Demon Lady or an unbalanced bitch. I have some emotional investment in the clients, and they in me. I'd much rather plan the whole event than be resigned to just meeting everyone as they arrive the day of their event while I try to pick up all the loose ends and tie them together.

Surely, Lillian and Laura will understand that.

Monday, March 24th

Well, that went pretty much as I thought it would. I asked Lillian and Laura if I could speak with them in the conference room. I explained that while I certainly enjoyed conducting ceremonies at Lakeside Gardens— which was sort of not true, but I didn't want to start out on a negative note—my career aspirations were to make senior planner and I felt it would be best for me to step down from the management position.

"Well, I certainly don't think holding this position would eliminate you from senior consideration," Laura said, "but the fact of the matter is we don't have any opening for seniors and don't foresee any in the near future."

"Not to mention," added Lillian, "our senior planners have degrees. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you drop out of college without yours?"

The barb stung as I'm sure she knew it would.

"Um, yes, but I'd be happy to work towards a degree. I already looked into it, actually, and depending on what courses would transfer over from my first two years in college, I could probably have my degree in another two years."

Laura smiled. "That's a great idea. Maybe by then we will have increased our file load enough to justify another senior. In the meantime, keep learning and expanding your experience at Lakeside."

Lillian stood to go as if the meeting were over. I knew it was now or never.

"Actually," I said as I licked my lips and willed myself to speak, "I really don't enjoy just doing ceremonies there. I don't feel I'm well suited for it, and I would like to step down."

Lillian sat down again, and frustration set in around the corners of her mouth.

Laura looked at me and blinked a couple of times before she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap.

"We had no idea you felt that way. You asked for time to think and came back to us saying you wanted the job. Why the change?"

"I realize I agreed to the position, but I've reconsidered. I don't want to be confined to one location or doing only ceremonies. I really enjoy the planning aspect and getting to know the couples ahead of time. I also like the variety of being in several different locations and interacting with different venue staff. I want to go back to being an assistant planner."

The two of them looked at each other for a long, awkward pause and then Laura turned back to me.

"What you're asking is not so simple. We don't have anyone trained who could step in and take the role. Charlotte is certainly not a candidate—"

Lillian harrumphed in agreement and shook her head as she looked heavenward.

Laura continued without acknowledging her. "—and Carmen is fully immersed in her support role. With her new baby at home, she's not interested in any weekend work."

That was what it came down to in the end. No one else in the office could be put in the job. It was mine. Whether I wanted it or not.

I left the meeting discouraged and downtrodden. Combined with everything going on in my head with Cabe, the job situation only compounded my misery and made me even more certain I wanted to run away from home. Again.

When the clock hit five o'clock on the dot, I bolted out the door. No longer able to sit and make niceties with the outside world.

Lillian was getting in her car as I reached mine. As luck would have it, she'd parked right next to me this morning.

"Bye. Have a good night," I offered so she wouldn't think I was mad or bitter about being turned down.

"You should have asked for more money," Lillian said as she ducked into her car.

She disappeared from view just as I turned, so I crouched down and pressed my hands close to her tinted windows so I could see inside. "What did you say?"

She put the passenger window down and leaned into my view.

"I
said
you should have asked for more money."

I shook my head slightly trying to understand what she was telling me.

"We obviously need you to do this position. There's no one else. We don't have the time or labor allocated to find someone and train them moving into April and May wedding season. You may not have gotten what you wanted in stepping down or getting streamlined for a senior, but you certainly could have negotiated for more money to stay in this position. You had bargaining power, and you didn't use it. It's a management position. It could feasibly be quite a bit more in salary."

"Wait. Are you saying you'll pay me more money to do this job?"

"No. I'm not going to pay you a dime more than I offered you when you accepted. But you should have asked. You should have negotiated. You always have to stand up for yourself, Tyler. What did I tell you before? The day we went to breakfast. Other people will always make their decisions based on what's best for them. You have to make your choices based on what's best for you. Always, always try to negotiate a better deal. Even if you don't get it, it sends the message that you have self-worth. That you value yourself. Have a good night."

The window went up abruptly, and she drove away.

I stood there for a moment after she pulled away. I couldn't tell if I'd been insulted or counseled with good advice. Angry tears sprang to my eyes as I got in my car.

Maybe I should have negotiated better circumstances with Cabe, too. Did I have to kick him out with an ultimatum that said don't come back? Surely we could have worked out a way to still see each other. The man was already freaked out from a million directions. Did I really have to pick that moment to push the issue? I mean, he had every right to be upset with me for Jack. His anger was justified. Would I have pushed him out the door if I hadn't felt so guilty?

But even as I write those words, I hear Lillian's voice coming back to me and telling me to make the decisions that are best for me. I know if Cabe isn't capable of loving me, fully and completely, then it's best for me not to be with him.

But damn, it hurts.