A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) Page 5

  “Right now we’re exploring a number of ideas,” Anne explained.

  Roberta nodded. “Brides these days have some unique ones.”

  True, but if you asked Anne, unique wasn’t always good.

  “That could be the perfect place for Laney to get married,” she told her sister as they drove away.

  “It is great,” Kendra agreed. She brought up TripAdvisor on her cell phone and pulled up the information on Icicle Falls. “Looks like there’s lots to do there.”

  “Let’s go by the chamber of commerce and pick up some brochures to take back,” Anne suggested.

  Maybe they could find some unique experience for Laney, like getting married in a mountain meadow. Then they could have the reception at the pretty house on Primrose Street.

  Compromise. Life was all about compromise. So were weddings, and Anne was sure that here in Icicle Falls she and her daughter would come up with just the right one.

  Chapter Four

  Laney, the Bride-to-Be

  She and Drake were getting married! Sometimes Laney could hardly believe it, even though they’d known each other, like, forever. They’d shared the same circle of friends since middle school, been in the same church youth group, taken the same classes. Funny how she’d thought he was such a goofball and no one she’d ever end up with. She was always crushing on guys who played in rock bands or high school sports heroes with their beefed-up muscles who swaggered down the hall on their way to class.

  In middle school Drake had been skinny with a colony of zits on his face, and his highest ambition was to beat the video game “Halo.” In high school his ambitions changed and he’d turned out for football. He was still skinny and spent most of his time warming the bench, and Laney had teased him about that. (Gosh, she’d been mean!) But he’d persisted, and as high school went on, he began to change from a scrawny goof to something a lot more interesting. She found herself stealing glances at him in English class; he was usually tapping his pencil or sneaking looks at his cell phone, bored out of his mind.

  “I don’t care about Shakespeare,” he’d complained once when a bunch of them had gone to Dairy Queen for Blizzards. “I’d rather work a math problem or do stuff on my car.”

  “Everybody should read Shakespeare,” Laney had argued.

  “Why? Who understands that shit? It isn’t even English.”

  “It is, too,” she’d said, rolling her eyes. “It’s early modern English.”

  “Well, they need to update it.”

  “Mrs. Krepps says you shouldn’t try to update Shakespeare,” Laney had told him. “You lose the beauty of the language.”

  “Bullshit,” Drake had said, showing what he thought of their high school English teacher’s opinion. “They have modern translations of the Bible. Shakespeare’s not more important than the Bible.”

  Laney hadn’t been able to find a good comeback for that. She’d had to settle for “You’re such a loser.”

  That Christmas she’d given him an edition of Romeo and Juliet that put Shakespeare’s language side by side with a translation into modern English. She’d given it to him as a joke, but to her surprise he’d actually read it.

  “Not bad” had been his assessment. Then he went back to Dean Koontz and Stephen King on audiobooks when he tinkered with the old muscle car he’d found on Craigslist.

  She couldn’t give him too hard a time about that because, when it came right down to it, she wasn’t that crazy about Shakespeare herself.

  Come senior year, he finally made first string on the football team and became one of the guys who swaggered down the hall on his way to class. He barely passed English, but he aced his math and science classes.

  He’d been happy when Laney was accepted at the University of Washington but equally happy that he was going to train to be an auto technician. “I don’t want to sit in an office all day or make kids read Shakespeare. I want to do something hands-on,” he’d said.

  That had triggered a vision of him doing something hands-on with her. Yes, things had changed since middle school. The more Drake talked about what he wanted to do with his life, the more she wanted to share that life with him. Traveling, mountain climbing, kayaking in Puget Sound, visiting cities like San Antonio and New York and LA. He’d been to Disneyland when he was little. Now he wanted to go back and get his picture taken with Donald Duck. He wanted to go to Vegas and play craps and see Criss Angel. He wanted to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity, maybe go to Mexico and build houses for the poor. With his goofy smile, big heart and sense of adventure, Drake was special and Laney didn’t want to see him fall for another girl. She wanted him to fall for her.

  When he started talking about taking some new girl he’d met at the beach to the Fourth of July fireworks at Green Lake, Laney had gotten pissy, told him he had no taste in women.

  “I don’t know. She’s pretty hot,” he’d said.

  “So am I. Why don’t you take me to watch the fireworks?”

  He’d looked at her oddly and said, “Yeah, why don’t I?”

  They had their first kiss on the Fourth of July as the fireworks exploded over the lake, and that was it. She knew, she just knew.

  And now they were getting married. Squeee!

  She’d been dreaming about her wedding day since she was a little girl. In fact, growing up, she’d been sort of a wedding addict. Her mom had hooked her the first time she brought Laney home a slice of wedding cake. She could still picture that piece of cake with its pink-frosting rose and small silver dragées, could still remember licking the frosting off her fingers. Mom subscribed to Brides magazine, and Laney had never gotten tired of looking at the pictures of all those models showing off gorgeous gowns. Every wedding movie she’d watched had sold her on the big “I do.” She used to imagine herself getting married in some old English castle with glittering chandeliers, saying “I do” to a guy who looked like Prince Charming. As she got older, Prince Charming began to look suspiciously like Zac Efron or Orlando Bloom. Now, of course, Prince Charming looked exactly like Drake.

  She had to celebrate. So on Wednesday, Drake’s night for gaming with the guys, she invited her friends over for a girl party.

  The revelers consisted of her longtime bestie, Autumn, who was actually always “over” since she and Laney shared a funky house in Fremont; Laney’s friend from college, Ella; and Drake’s younger sister, Darcy.

  She’d just put out the fondue when Darcy arrived, bearing a gigantic bag of corn chips. “I’m so excited,” she squealed, hugging Laney. “I finally get a sister.”

  “Me, too,” Laney said, hugging her back. Her life growing up as an only child had been great, but she’d always wanted a sister. Now she had one.

  Her friend Ella was next. “I’m so jealous,” she said. “At the rate we’re going, I won’t be engaged until I’m fifty.”

  “I’m not getting married till I’m thirty. I’ve still got things I want to do on my own,” Autumn said as she took the salsa out of the fridge.

  “What do you want to do on your own that you can’t do with Ben?” Ella scoffed.

  “Live in Paris for a year, study fashion design.”

  “You could do that with Ben,” Ella pointed out.

  “I can’t flirt with Frenchmen when I’m with Ben,” Autumn said with a grin.

  Ella rolled her eyes and flopped down on the fake-leather couch Laney had bought at a garage sale. “So spill,” she said to Laney. “How did Drake propose?”

  “He took me to the Space Needle. I had a feeling he was going to propose.”

  “How’d you know?” asked Darcy. “He didn’t even tell me.”

  “’Cause he was acting all nervous. He was checking his pocket every five minutes, like there was something in there he didn’t want to lose, and when we were at our table he
kept fooling with the silverware and drinking water.”

  “That’s so cute,” Ella said dreamily. “So did he get down on one knee and everything?”

  Laney nodded. “Yep, just before dessert.”

  “And you said yes right away,” Darcy prompted.

  “You should’ve made him sweat,” Autumn said and took a sip of her pop.

  Darcy frowned at her. “That’s mean.”

  “No, that’s psychology,” Autumn argued. “Make ’em sweat. That way they really appreciate it when you say yes.”

  “I still think it’s mean,” Darcy muttered.

  “Have you set a date?” Ella asked Laney.

  “We don’t have the exact date yet, but we’re talking about June.”

  Ella’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that doesn’t give you much time to plan the wedding.”

  “It’s plenty of time, especially if we go to Vegas.”

  “Ooh, baby,” said Autumn. “Slots and shopping and glitzy pools and big, huge fancy drinks.”

  “And hookers.” Ella wrinkled her nose.

  “Don’t worry. Nobody’s gonna proposition your man,” Autumn said, and Ella stuck her tongue out at her.

  “It’s not for sure yet,” Laney told them. “We might get married here.”

  Her mom had made a good case for that—a big guest list, catered dinner, getting married by Pastor Ostrom, who had watched her grow up. He was going to retire at the end of the year. She’d probably be the sweet old guy’s last wedding.

  But Vegas sounded like fun, too. She and Drake had already looked at the Treasure Island website. The packages weren’t cheap, but were definitely cheaper than what they’d pay if they stuck around Seattle to get married. And she loved the idea of being down there in the center of all that excitement.

  “Let’s check out Vegas,” Autumn said, grabbing her phone.

  The images for Vegas weddings were all impressive. Her mother had thought a Vegas chapel would be tacky. Mom must have been thinking about the old days, because what Laney and her friends were seeing was totally glam.

  “Drake thinks Vegas would be really cool,” said Darcy. She frowned. “But I’m not twenty-one yet. I can’t drink. At least if you end up getting married here, somebody will let me have a glass of champagne.”

  “Well, there’s a reason not to go to Vegas,” Autumn cracked. “What do you want to do most?” she asked Laney.

  A series of images flashed across Laney’s mind—the royal wedding with all its pomp and splendor, the church weddings she’d attended growing up, images from the many websites she’d peered at over her mother’s shoulder when Mom was working. Everything felt so wide-open she almost didn’t know what to choose. But then she looked at those pictures on the Treasure Island site and smiled. “I want to go to Vegas.”

  Except Mom had called the other day to tell her about a place she’d found that would be perfect for the wedding. How the heck was she going to get out of that?

  Chapter Five

  Anne, Woman with a Plan

  On Thursday Laurel Browne dropped by the office with her Pekingese, Rufus, cuddled in her arms. Anne had heard it said that owners and their dogs often resembled each other. Looking at Laurel and Rufus, she could believe it. Both had snub noses and blond highlights. And both wore a permanent scowl.

  “Rufus and I were on our way to the groomer and thought we’d stop by,” Laurel explained. “Didn’t we, Rufus baby?”

  Oh, goody. “Isn’t he a handsome dog,” Anne lied. “Hi, Rufus.”

  “Grrr,” Rufus replied, showing her his teeth, and not in a sweet Look, Mom, I floss every day kind of way.

  “I found some pictures on the internet of yellow floral arrangements,” Laurel went on, holding up her finds.

  Some? The sheaf of papers was the size of War and Peace. “Uh, thank you,” Anne said. She could just imagine what Kate over at In Bloom would say when she saw this.

  Anne reached to take it and Rufus snarled and snapped at her. She yanked back her hand. Yikes! Were all her fingers still attached?

  “Rufus, behave,” scolded Laurel. “I’m afraid he doesn’t like going to the groomer.”

  Or else, like his mommy, Rufus didn’t like wedding planners.

  “I’ll put them here on the desk,” Laurel said.

  “Thank you.” Anne hoped her smile looked sincere. She thought they’d settled the flower issue. Obviously, they hadn’t. “I’ll pass these on to Kate. And maybe next week you and Chelsea could come and see a few table settings,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over Rufus, who was conveying his displeasure at being deprived of a finger sandwich by barking at her.

  “Rufus baby, stop now,” Laurel cooed. “That will be fine.” No cooing for Anne. “We need to get this settled.”

  “Great,” Anne said, pretending she and Laurel and Rufus were all BFFs. “I know we’ll find something you and Chelsea are both going to love.”

  “With what I’m paying you, I hope so.”

  That again. “It’s not nearly enough to cover the pain and suffering,” Anne said as soon as the door shut behind Laurel. “And what’s with that dog?”

  “Little dogs can get aggressive when they feel cornered,” said Kendra, who owned a Norwich terrier.

  “Cornered? I’m the one who nearly lost a finger.”

  “She should’ve put the dog on the floor.”

  “So he could bite my ankle?”

  “So he wouldn’t feel threatened.” Kendra shook her head. “You’re such an animal-hater. The dog probably sensed it.”

  “I am not an animal-hater,” Anne insisted. “Just because I prefer cats.”

  “You haven’t had a cat in years.”

  It was true. After Pansy died she’d been too brokenhearted to even think about getting another pet. “I already have Cam, and one animal is enough,” Anne said, making her sister snicker. “I need a caffeine fix. Want a mocha?”

  “Sure, if you’re buying.”

  “It’s your turn but okay,” Anne said, playing the martyr.

  It didn’t work. Her sister grinned and said, “Great. I’ll take a large.”

  So off Anne went to the coffee shop on Queen Anne Avenue, where her daughter worked as a barista. It was midmorning and the place was humming with caffeinated drinkers and people waiting to get their hit. The smell of roasted coffee practically made Anne’s taste buds spring a leak.

  “Hi, Mrs. Richardson,” her daughter’s friend and roommate said.

  “Hi, Autumn. I’ll have my usual white chocolate latte and a large...”

  “Coconut mocha,” supplied Autumn with a grin.

  “You guessed it,” Anne said and dropped a dollar in the tip jar.

  “Hi, Mom,” her daughter called from her station at the espresso maker.

  Under her bright red apron she wore a short-sleeved shirt to show off the mermaid swimming up her arm past seashells and starfish. Anne preferred it when her daughter wore long-sleeved tops. That way she didn’t have to be reminded of the mermaid’s existence. Laney loved mermaids and had designed the tattoo herself. Anne loved mermaids, too, as long as they stayed in movies, where they belonged.

  It’s her life, Anne had told herself when Laney got her second tattoo, this one on her neck. A climbing rose. Like Laney herself, her tattoos were all about motion.

  “It’s your favorite flower,” Laney had said. “Your favorite flower and your favorite daughter all rolled into one.” Daughters—they were such a blessing. And such a source of irritation.

  In spite of the tattoo irritation, Anne was proud of Laney. She had a nice guy, a college degree (something Anne had never gotten) and would soon be working on her teaching certificate so she could become an art teacher while she honed her silversmithing skills.
She didn’t do drugs or post naughty pictures of herself on the internet, and she was gainfully employed. She was creative and beautiful, and Anne loved her like crazy. She’d probably never love the tattoos, though.

  Laney set out two to-go cups. “One small Americano and one double tall soy latte, no whip.”

  The two women who’d been waiting snagged their drinks and moved to a corner table.

  Anne was next in line. She leaned over the counter. “So what did you decide about going up to Icicle Falls this weekend and checking out that place I told you about?”

  Laney concentrated on putting a stainless-steel pitcher of milk under the steam wand, and for a moment all Anne heard was whoosh. Someone at a nearby table laughed.

  “Hello?” Anne prompted.

  “I’ve got that craft fair coming up. I’ve still got to make stuff for that.”

  “The fair isn’t until Memorial Day weekend,” Anne pointed out. “We need to get this venue nailed down. We don’t have much time to plan your wedding.”

  “I know, but I think we want to go to Vegas. That won’t take long to plan.”

  “You shouldn’t make a snap decision until you’ve considered a bit more,” Anne advised.

  Laney shrugged and said, “I guess,” a sure sign that she was underwhelmed by the idea of getting married in Icicle Falls.

  “We can go up for a girls’ weekend with Aunt Kendra and Grammy. What happens in Icicle Falls stays in Icicle Falls.”

  That made Laney giggle. “Mom, you crack me up.”

  “We can be wild.”

  “Where? There?” Laney set out the drinks.

  “Let’s at least go see it.” They hadn’t been to Icicle Falls since Laney was a little girl and she’d obviously forgotten what a special town it was. Once she saw the place, Anne knew she’d be on board. Laney and Drake liked to do outdoor things, and according to the brochure she’d picked up, there was plenty of that—hiking, river rafting, rock climbing. Laney just had to catch the vision. Then she’d be all over this.

  “Okay.”