“Well, for example: there’s the four piece ensemble to play at the ceremony, the DJ for the reception, the caterer, the florist has to set up, the dessert to be delivered and displayed…” I trailed off when Wyatt gave my hand a squeeze.
“I can’t wait to see you in action,” he said.
“It’s my job. I’m damn good at it.”
Wyatt nodded. “I have no doubt. See you in the morning at the park.”
“Be sure and have the groom there by eight o’clock.” I reminded him. “The photographer is starting at 8:30.”
“I remember.” Wyatt let go and slipped his hands in his pockets.
I reached for the kitchen door and opened it. “See you tomorrow.” I did my best to sound composed as I began to step back in the house.
“Save a dance for me at the reception, Magnolia.” Wyatt’s voice stopped me mid-stride.
“I’ll be working the event, Wyatt,” I reminded him. “I’m not a guest.”
“You actually believe that?” Wyatt measured me with those crystal blue eyes.
I shrugged. “I was hired to coordinate their wedding. The fact that I’m distantly related to the bride and groom doesn’t change the fact that their wedding is in fact, my job.”
Wyatt continued to study me. Finally he nodded. “Good night, Magnolia.”
Damn. I found that I really wanted to kiss him again. But there wasn’t any time for that, I realized. Not right now. So instead, I nodded. “Goodnight, Wyatt.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
To my infinite relief the schedule for the day of the wedding went like clockwork. All my careful preparation had more than paid off. The weather cooperated, and the day had dawned with white puffy clouds floating across the sky and mild temperatures in the seventies.
A huge, white event tent sprawled across the lush emerald green grass of the reserved section of the park. The reception tables were dressed, and huge paper globes hung from the interior of the tent in an assortment of sherbet colors. The floral centerpieces popped against snowy linen and were in a variety of rustic containers. From old watering cans to blue glass jars and ceramic pitchers, the décor was a little boho, absolutely enchanting, and magazine photo shoot worthy.
Rows of rental chairs were arranged along either side of a paver pathway in the gardens of the park, and satin ribbons in a rainbow of colors were attached to the back of each chair. At the end of the path, a curved arbor stood before a large garden filled with perennials. The arbor had been expertly decorated by Violet and her mother, Cora, with lush greenery and fresh flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors.
The pre-ceremony photography was done and the guests were arriving. I’d been surprised to discover I’d been sentimental witnessing the first look photos for the bride and groom. I did remember to mention to the photographer about the men’s socks…and as I figured, she’d snapped a hilarious picture of all the groomsmen sitting on a stone wall in the park with their rainbow of different colored socks showing.
Now, the string quartet was playing as the last of the guests took their seats. I checked my watch, the bride and groom were scheduled to exchange their handfasting vows in less than five minutes. I took one final peek at the guests and checked on Willow. She was happily sitting in the front row on the groom’s side with Thomas and the Vasquez family. She turned, saw me, and gave a happy wave.
I went to the wedding party, who’d been tucked out of sight in the back of the reception tent, to direct the groom and his men to take their places. “It’s time, y’all,” I said.
Duncan gave Autumn a light kiss. “See you out there,” he said, and went to join the groomsmen.
While the event staff did the finishing touches and lit the candles on the reception tables, I sent the bridesmaids down the garden path in order, straightening hems, flowers, or hair, as the case may be.
First, Candice in her pink chiffon dress went down the aisle. Violet in the lilac gown followed. The bouquets she’d crafted for the bridesmaids were a mass of spring flowers: blue hydrangeas, soft purple roses, yellow carnations, pale pink peonies and the soft silvery-green foliage of dusty miller added a bit of shimmer. Each bouquet had a coordinating satin colored ribbon to match the attendant’s specific dress.
I smoothed a long cable of Holly’s strawberry-blonde hair back from her face. “You look lovely, Holly,” I whispered, and sent her off next in her sky blue dress. Ivy stepped up, tossed me a wink, and I shifted her bouquet so the matching mint green ribbon would show.
Lexie stood in her butter yellow dress, holding Morgan’s hand. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle,” she said to her son. “Behave yourself, Morgan John.” She gave him a steely-eyed look, and then flashed me a smile and went down the aisle proudly as the matron of honor.
“Okay you three,” I whispered to Morgan, Chloe and Sophia, the ring bearer and flower girls. “Here we go.”
“I have to take the rings to Mommy.” Morgan bit his lip. He was adorable in a white shirt, gray slacks and suspenders.
Chloe and Sophia stepped up behind him. The little girls were pretty as a picture in floral crowns and white dresses with tulle skirts. I sent the three of them off, and the girls made the most out of throwing their flower petals around.
Finally it was the bride’s turn. I took a moment, gave the back of Autumn’s gown some final fluffing. “Keep that bouquet at waist level,” I reminded her.
“Okay, thanks,” she whispered, lowering her bridal bouquet. It was a beautiful arrangement with pink veronica, clusters of baby roses in pale yellow and pink, peach peonies, blue hydrangeas, large white roses, and more of the dusty miller.
I gave the quartet their cue to start up the bride’s processional music. “You look absolutely enchanting,” I told Autumn, and it was true.
Her long brown hair was held back and fastened
