Whipped Wedding Woes: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 8)

Whipped Wedding Woes

by

Constance Barker

Copyright 2015 C. C. Davenport

All rights reserved.

Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

Chapter One

The sun shone bright through the front plate glass window as Stormi, Paige, Sammi and I sat in a row at the nail salon getting our pedicures in preparation for Stormi’s wedding the following evening. The atmosphere was electric as excitement grew in advance of the nuptials. Even the gals providing the pedicures were joining in the fun of the occasion. The warm water pulsing around our feet felt intoxicating, and of course, it made Stormi’s feet tickle. We laughed and kidded one another, wondering who would be the first one to trip down the aisle.

“It will probably be me,” Stormi stated. “If I land on my face before I get to Greg, will someone please show the guests the door so I can die of embarrassment alone.”

“If you fall on your face, we’ll just hoist you back up and carry on,” Paige replied. “There will no embarrassing moments at this wedding, only fond memories and maybe a few gaffes that you’ll look back and laugh at in…well 20 years.”

“You’re so encouraging Mother,” Sammi chortled then looked at Stormi. “I’ll make sure your train is pulled back so you won’t trip over it.”

“Thank you sweets, I appreciate it.”

Stormi appeared radiant, her face aglow with the impending wedding. I’d never seen her so happy. Greg, her intended, was the perfect match for Stormi. His level headedness curbed Stormi’s off the rails behavior. Not that he wanted to stifle her…not at all. That was a part of her he loved, but Stormi needed someone calm like Greg to keep her from flying into orbit. And I believe Greg needed someone like Stormi in his life as well. She provided an exhilarating ride that allowed him to feel an undercurrent of anticipation every time she entered his space.

We’d been planning this wedding for the last few months. After the rather odd death of the wedding planner Stormi’s mother Miss Dottie hired, Stormi commissioned Paige and I to take the reins. We happily agreed and proceeded to work with Stormi and Dottie in hiring the photographer and cake decorator, picking out flowers, the wedding dress, and all the other millions of details that go into planning a wedding. Stormi choose an outdoor venue. The wedding would take place in a courtyard setting. The property was primarily used for wedding or other functions where people gathered. Adjacent to the courtyard was an area with a huge tent complete with tables, chairs, a bar, stage and a dance floor. It made it easy for guests to walk from the courtyard to the reception without having to drive somewhere else.

I myself had big news. I was sporting a one-carat diamond engagement ring, given to me by Stormi’s brother Brandon only a few months ago. We weren’t planning a wedding in the near future…I needed to get Stormi married first before I could even think about my own nuptials.

So today, we sat at the Polished Perfection Nail Salon having our toes soaked, clipped, lathered with lotion, and painted a bright pink, one of the colors in Stormi’s wedding. The other color was bright red, which fit her to a tee. We chattered away, filled with excitement when in came our one of our dear friends, Trixie.

“I heard you girls were in here getting your pinkies all prettied up.”

“Why don’t you join us Miss Trixie,” I invited her. We all adore Miss Trixie. She has such spunk and a heart of gold. Although she’s 30 years older than we are, age doesn’t seem to be a factor in our relationship. And she’s no shrinking violet. Trix is as spry as a young chick and a hoot to be around.

“First of all I wouldn’t want to shock you girls with my bunions.”

“Couldn’t be any worse than mine,” Paige challenged.

Trixie shook her head. “I beg to differ my dear Paige. My bunions have bunions. It’s a sight no poor soul other than me should witness. Besides, Ben’s in the car and wants to head out to the Farmer’s Market before they close.”

“You will be at the wedding tomorrow evening right?” Stormi asked.

“Oh honey, you know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll be there with bells on!”

With that, she twirled right out the door. Trixie was always a sight for sore eyes.

We continued our various conversations as the ladies painted our nails. One of the topics of conversation concerned Stormi’s cousin Howie, who had moved back to town two months ago.

Howie was quite an eccentric fellow. His IQ was through the roof, but he sorely lacked in social skills. It wasn’t that he was standoffish…just quirky. It was difficult to hold a conversation with the man. Dottie thought he had some kind of adult ADD as his mind constantly ran from one idea to another. He would talk nonstop about his inventions that never came to fruition. He would start a project and never finish it, like a kitchen gadget to peel hard-boiled eggs (I actually would have loved that one), or the time he wanted to build a car that ran off cow pies, (that one I would skip.)

He loved jigsaw puzzles, but found that putting them together right side up, with the picture showing, wasn’t challenging enough. So he’d put them together with the picture side down. Odd, I know. He seemed harmless though. And he had a girlfriend, Luella Vance. Now how he got her remains a mystery. She was gorgeous with long dark brown hair and big brown eyes. It was startling to see them around town. Luella had good 2-inches on Howie, even more if she wore heels. He wore thick glasses and his dishwater blond hair always appeared in need of a comb. Nope, I didn’t see how these two were together, but then again, maybe they were a match intellectually. Luella appeared to be very smart and her social skills were leaps and bounds above Howie’s. However, she seemed a bit aloof. We figured it was her upbringing in a large city. We were small town girls with none of that highfalutin nonsense. We gave her the benefit of the doubt though. I mean she’d been living with Howie here in Caesars Creek for a few months now, and since he couldn’t hold down a job, we knew she was the sole source of income.

Luella was a surgical nurse, but working on her doctorate. Howie met her in Atlanta where they both attended Southern State University in Atlanta. He was working towards his Masters in engineering, but as would often happen with him, he lost interest and dropped out. Luella worked for St. Francis hospital on the outskirts of Atlanta, which was an hour’s drive both ways. Many times during the week, Howie would come into the Frozen Scoop Ice Cream Shoppe to have his usual, one dip of butterscotch ripple in a sugar cone. I’m sure he was lonely during the day, so sometimes he’d sit with ol’Charlie across the street and shoot the breeze, although I doubt Charlie could make heads or tails out of Howie’s chatter.

“So I guess I’m paired with Howie during the walk down the aisle,” Paige complained as the top coat was painted on her toenails. I was Stormi’s maid of honor while Paige was a bridesmaid. Brandon was Greg’s best man so the pecking order was complete. Paige leaned over Stormi who was sitting between us and looked at me. “Why don’t I trade with you? You can walk with Howie and I can walk with Brandon.”

I shook my head. “I’m maid of honor. Got to walk with the best man.”

Paige slumped back into her seat. “Okay, surely he’ll keep his peculiarities to a minimum during the nuptials.”

Stormi looked at Paige. “Don’t count on it.”

Paige grimaced. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. What’s he going to do? Pick me up and twirl me around?”

Stormi gave Paige the side eye. Paige squinted her eyes. “That boy better not dare….…..not a finger!”

Stormi and I both burst out laughing. Paige was rattled enough having to walk down the aisle with Howie. We couldn’t resist poking a little fun at her.

Paige turned in her chair to look at us. “I’m not kidding sisters…that boy makes a move and I’ll deck him.”

“I thought that was Bruce’s department,” Stormi said between snorts.

Paige leaned back in her chair and waved her hand. “Nope, I can take care of myself thank you very much. Besides, he’ll probably have his face in the buffet checking out the goodies.”

I nodded my head towards the outside of the nail salon. “Here comes Howie and your mother right now.”

Howie opened the door for Dottie. No one said he didn’t have manners.

“Oh girls,” Dottie exclaimed. “Are you getting your tootsies done for the wedding?”

“Yes Miss Dottie,” I replied. “Are you getting a pedicure too?”

Howie walked over and grabbed a magazine from the rack situated on the nail salon wall.

“Lands no,” Dottie exclaimed. “I don’t want anyone witnessing these gnarly toes of mine.” Thank goodness for small favors. “But I am getting a manicure. What color should I get Stormi, red or pink?”

“Oh go all out Momma, get the red.”

Dottie covered her mouth and giggled. “Okay, why not.”

“How you doing Howie?” I asked.

He looked up from the Women’s World magazine he was holding. “Oh, alright. I have a few yards to mow this afternoon. Thought I would drop Aunt Dottie off before heading to my jobs.”

“I heard you were mowing lawns Howie,” Paige said. “Why don’t you stop by Bruce’s office and let him know. I’m getting tired of mowing our yard with all the rain we’ve been having this spring and summer.”

Howie seemed to brighten. “I’ll do that. Well, I better get going.”

“Thanks for dropping me off Howie,” Dottie said as she grabbed the magazine he was reading.

After Howie left Dottie turned to us. “He’s been after Papaw Jeb again to give him money for one of his hair brain inventions. I swear, I love the boy, but he’s going to drive us all into an early grave if he doesn’t get his head screwed on straight.”

“It doesn’t help that Papaw Jeb keeps talking about all this money he has, when we all know it’s just a pile of poppycock,” Stormi said as Jenny put the a clear coat of polish over red on her toenails. Paige moved over to the drying machines to dry her nails while Jenny and her employees finished up with our coats of polish.

“Stormi, it doesn’t matter if it’s poppycock or not. Howie shouldn’t be asking him for money all the time. It isn’t right and I’m going to say something pretty soon.”

“Can you wait until after my wedding?” Stormi asked. “I’d like some peace before all hell breaks loose.”

“Why do you think it would be bad to tell Howie not to bother Jeb?” I asked. “Are you afraid he’d blow?”

“Who knows with Howie…he’s an enigma,” Stormi shrugged. “I just don’t want anything to mess up my wedding.” Stormi stared at Dottie with that last statement.

Dottie raised her hand. “My hand to God…I will not say anything to Howie until after the reception and you and Greg are on your way to Bermuda for your honeymoon.”

I understood where Stormi was coming from. A wedding was stressful enough without all the family drama to go along with it. Howie grew up in Caesars Creek so everyone knew he was a loveable oddball, but if he was pestering his Papaw Jeb for money, that wasn’t right. Papaw Jeb was Dottie’s father and Stormi and Brandon’s grandfather. He lived about a half an hour from town on a 10 acre lot with a house, barn and huge garden in which he grew potatoes, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce and peppers. He loved that garden and Stormi, Paige and I received the fruits of his labor every spring and summer. Fresh grown produce…there wasn’t anything canned or frozen that could compete with it.

Whenever Jeb, short for Jebediah, came to town, which wasn’t often, he would sit with ol’ Charlie on the bench in front of the hardware store and talk about their days in the army. While they weren’t in the same division, the veterans would compare old war stories. Brandon said he’d sit with them sometimes and listen to their tales with great interest.

Jeb was a widower. Dottie’s mother died almost 20 years ago and Jeb never remarried. He seemed happy with the way things were and at almost 90, he could still take care of himself. In fact, the man didn’t look a day over 70 and when you’re 90, that’s saying something. His salt and pepper hair was still thick and his 6ft frame towered over many men half his age. While men younger than Jeb used a cane or like Charlie, a wheelchair, Jeb didn’t need anything to keep him upright. Stormi figured all the work he did in the garden and in his flower plots kept him spry. I had to agree. But he was full of tall tales, and his family and friends never knew if his story about all his riches stored away on his property was true or not. I was always afraid somebody might try and off the old boy in an attempt to look for the money, but fortunately our small town contained people who wouldn’t do such a thing, or at least that’s what I hoped.