Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Sophia had always been a night owl. Even as a child, she would read until the wee hours and then hate the wake-up call at seven o’clock the next morning. Adjusting her sleeping pattern when she went to work for the oil company had not been easy, but when the alarm went off each morning, she reminded herself that Starbucks was on the way to her job.
That Monday she was awake when the sun was nothing but a sliver of orange rising over the eastern horizon. She went downstairs, poured herself a cup of coffee, carried it out to the courtyard, and sat down in the same chair she had used the afternoon before. When daylight had fully arrived the streetlights at the four corners of the courtyard went off. That meant it was at least seven o’clock, and if she was in Houston, she would be in line at Starbucks.
“Five more hours,” she whispered as she finished the last sip of her coffee.
“Good mornin’,” Clara said as she backed out of the door with a mug in each hand. “I saw you sitting out here when I stepped out on the balcony and I could tell that your cup was nearly empty. I can’t believe you are up this early.”
“I had a rough night,” Sophia admitted. “At least we’re going to the florist this morning. I can’t believe Mama Lizzy has had us wait until the last minute to get everything done.”
“She didn’t,” Clara said, and then handed off one of the mugs, which had sunflowers printed on the outside. “The appointment for today has been on her calendar ever since we announced our engagements. I stopped by one afternoon after work to check on her and overheard her talking to the florist.”
“Thanks for this,” Sophia said. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.”
“Speaking of surprises, did I tell you that Trevor’s family is putting together some big, fancy surprise for us and plans to announce it next Sunday?” Clara asked.
Sophia took a sip of the hot liquid and glanced at the flowers. “You didn’t tell me that. I’m glad it’s you and not me. I’d worry about what it might be all week. Where did Mama Lizzy get mugs like this? Everything around here has always been dogwoods, in keeping with the logo.”
“I don’t have a single doubt that they’ve put their hearts and souls into whatever they’ve got planned,” Clara said and then took a deep breath and sat down across from her sister. “I love the smell of early morning. I’m usually up before dawn, but this morning I slept until the sun had risen. And about the mugs, I gave them to her for Christmas. I’d planned to use sunflowers and daisies in my barn wedding.”
“Good morning,” Mama Lizzy said as she joined them. “I just got a call from the florist. She says she’s got a cancellation and can see us at eight thirty. I thought we’d take care of that and then go have breakfast at Aunt Lucy’s Café. Her biscuits and gravy are almost as good as Luther’s.”
Sophia pushed back her chair and stood up. “That sounds great.”
She was happy to have anything to keep her busy until Hunter arrived, and she didn’t intend to say a word about a late breakfast that had more carbs in it than she usually ate in a week. “I’ll be ready and in the lobby in a few minutes.”
“Me too.” Clara stood up. “I hope it doesn’t take long at the flower shop because just thinking about biscuits and gravy is making my mouth water.”
“Then go put something on other than pajama pants,” Lizzy said. “You don’t have to get all dressed up or put on makeup, but you do need to wear a bra. Especially you, Clara.”
“Are you saying that I don’t have big enough boobs to need a bra?” Sophia asked.
“Nope, but even a nearsighted bat could tell that Clara could give Dolly Parton some competition with her boobs,” Lizzy said with half a giggle. “Now go on and get ready. I’ve got some great ideas for your bouquets, and for the boutonnieres and corsages.”
Sophia followed her sister through the kitchen, dining room, and lobby, and then up the stairs to the second floor. “I’ve always envied your boobs and tiny waist,” she whispered.
“And I’ve always been jealous of your height and long legs. You look amazing in a bikini and I look like I’ve stuffed two cantaloupes into the top of mine,” Clara said and then disappeared into her bedroom.
A picture of two cantaloupes stuffed into a bikini top popped into Sophia’s mind as she went into her room. She giggled as she grabbed a brush from her dresser and ran it through her hair. She had forgotten that Clara also had more of a sense of humor—and she was jealous of that too.
* * *
The dress, the bouquet, the cake, and the venue had seemed so important when Hunter proposed a few months ago, but they had lost their luster that morning as Lizzy led the way into the flower shop.
A lady with a gray bun on top of her head and twinkling blue eyes came from behind the counter. “Good morning, ladies,” she greeted them with a smile. “Welcome. I’m Robin, and if you will follow me, we’ll talk in the lounge where it’s a little more private. I understand dogwoods are the theme of your wedding. Lizzy, your twins grew up to be beautiful women. I haven’t seen them since they were tagging along with you when they were little girls.”
“And they’re still as different as night and day,” Lizzy said with a chuckle as she fell in behind Robin.
The small, private room just off what Sophia thought of as the lobby had a glass-top coffee table surrounded by six light blue, wingback chairs. “Y’all have a seat,” Robin said. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, maybe a mimosa?”
“We’re good,” Lizzy answered for all of them and sat down between her granddaughters.
Sophia could have used a mimosa, or two, or maybe half a dozen to calm her nerves, but she didn’t speak up.
“Okay, then.” Robin sat down and picked up a notebook from the coffee table. She pulled a pen from the bun on top of her head. “I understand the theme for the wedding is dogwoods. We seldom get to do something that unusual, so we’re all excited about it here in the shop. Let’s start with the brides’ bouquets and move forward from there. Big, small, nosegay, trailing?”
“Medium, not nosegay, but not trailing,” Clara answered, “and I love sunflowers and daisies. Could you work a few of either of those into the bouquet, and maybe use yellow ribbons?”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Lizzy said. “What would you like in yours, Sophia?”
“Red roses and red ribbons,” Sophia answered, amazed that her grandmother had even asked.
“Red and yellow?” Lizzy frowned and then smiled. “I love it. The dogwoods need a little bit of color. How about using that same idea for the centerpieces? Maybe some branches with the blossoms on them, and then daisies and roses to brighten them up.”
“Yes!” Clara said.
“Sophia?” Lizzy asked.
“Sorry, I was picturing that in my mind,” Sophia answered, “and I do like it a lot. Could I have red roses for the corsages and boutonnieres on my side of the wedding?”
“And I’ll have daisies on my side,” Clara said. “We’ll blend the city wedding and the country one together that way.”
“I love it.” Lizzy clapped her hands and then handed Robin a piece of the monogrammed stationery from the hotel.
Robin glanced at it for a few seconds. “You are organized. The wedding is at six o’clock, so we’ll have everything there and set up an hour earlier.”
If there is a wedding, Sophia thought, still not sure if the news Hunter was bringing would break her heart.
“That sounds great,” Lizzy said. “You will also bring the arch and set it up, along with the two big ferns . . .”
“And the stands to set them on,” Robin finished the sentence and nodded. “I’m planning to take pictures of everything to put into my book. I bet next year I’ll have a dozen dogwood weddings booked, once the brides see how beautiful it is.”
Sophia’s thoughts shifted from her own anxiety to using the Dogwood Inn for a wedding venue. As Mama Lizzy said, the hotel provided everything—from rooms, to a dining room for the reception, a lobby for dancing, and a courtyard for the ceremony. She made a mental note to talk to her grandmother about offering to book the hotel for weddings.
“If you have any more questions, just call me,” Lizzy said as she stood up. “Girls, are y’all ready to go get some breakfast, and then go home and talk seriously about menus? We need one for the rehearsal dinner and one for the reception. Luther is meeting us this afternoon and would like to see what we’ve come up with so he can get to organizing what needs to be done. See, I told you that we could get everything ready in a few days.”
Robin, Clara, and Sophia all stood up at the same time.
“Thank you for trusting me with such an important event,” Robin said. “I wish all brides came in with such a definite opinion about what they want.”
She and Lizzy carried on a conversation all the way to the door, while Clara and Sophia followed them.
“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Clara whispered. “We each got a little bit of what we wanted.”
“Like you said, the city and country are coming together with a whole lot of Elizabeth Delaney thrown in,” Sophia said with a smile.
“Well, we Delaneys are known for being opinionated,” Clara said with half a giggle. “It’s amazing that the three of us can even compromise.”
“Do you think changing your name to Clara Richmond is going to help with that attitude?” Sophia asked.
“Nope,” Clara answered. “Is going from Delaney to Gamble going to affect your attitude?”
“I doubt it very seriously,” Sophia answered.
“What are you two talking about?” Lizzy asked as she held the door open for them.
“Changing our names,” Clara answered.
Lizzy got into the back seat of her vintage, baby-blue Cadillac and tossed the keys to Sophia. “It’s your turn to drive. I always hoped the two of you would either marry twins or maybe brothers, or even cousins with the same last name, so you’d still share a last name.”
Sophia slid in behind the wheel. “I hate driving this big old boat, and parking it is a pain.”
“I’m glad it’s your turn to drive,” Clara whispered.
“This ‘big old boat,’ as you call Jezebel, was given to me on my sixteenth birthday, and my daddy said I had to treat her like I would the hotel when I inherited it. I’ve kept both of them in pristine condition and will continue to do so,” Lizzy reminded them.
“Does the car go with the hotel when you sell it?” Sophia asked.
“Not just no, but hell no!” Lizzy declared. “I’d be buried in Jezebel if I could find a way to do so.”
“Why’d you name her Jezebel?” Clara asked.
“Seemed fitting at the time,” Lizzy answered. “Suffice it to say the first person I took out for a ride was your grandfather.”
Sophia started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “Do I hear a story?”
“I’ll tell you someday, maybe on my one hundredth birthday, if y’all are around to give me a big party,” Lizzy said.
On the drive to the café, Sophia did the math in her head. Mama Lizzy was seventy years old. She and Clara would be thirty that summer. That meant they would be sixty when their grandmother was a hundred. Would she still be alive, and would she still be married to Hunter? She tried to visualize the two of them at that age, maybe with a couple of children and possibly a grandchild or two, but the pictures wouldn’t materialize.
Did that mean she wouldn’t be married to Hunter? She blinked back tears at the very idea.