Chapter 16
Mrs. Arnsby and Morgan fell into step, strolling across Easton Estate’s driveway to the cook’s small apartment, more accurately described as half of a duplex, the other side of which was occupied by Jax. “I was hoping you could show me what Chester’s wedding outfit looks like, if possible.”
“More than possible,” Morgan quipped. “I have a picture on my phone. I did a little research online and found several companies who sell small leather boxes that would attach to his collar. They look fancy-schmancy. Reviewers biggest complaint was that they were a little bulky. I want him to be comfortable.”
“Another way of saying, you want to make sure he won’t try pulling it off and risk losing the rings,” the cook joked.
“You know how finnicky he can be about his clothing. I figured with your creativity we could come up with a custom ring box.” Morgan patted her pocket. “I’ll pay you for it.”
Mrs. Arnsby waved dismissively. “I don’t want money. It will be a labor of love.”
“A labor of love, but worth your expertise,” Morgan said. “I insist. If not, I’ll buy a box online and hope for the best.”
“We can’t have that. You twisted my arm. I’ll take a small payment.”
“For the materials and your labor.”
Chester strutted inside, acting as if he owned the place.
“He’s made himself at home here,” Morgan joked. “Too many more sleepovers and he’s going to think he should be invited for regular overnight visits.”
“You know he’s welcome anytime.” Mrs. Arnsby hung her keys on the hook by the door. “Can I get you a cup of tea or a glass of water?”
“Thank you, but I’m all set. I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“I love to work on crafts and knowing this will be for Elizabeth’s big day, I’m tickled pink to contribute in some small way.” While Morgan and Chester waited at the kitchen table, Mrs. Arnsby hurried off to gather her craft supplies.
She returned, juggling three identical totes, and placed them on the counter. “What color is Chester’s outfit?”
Morgan scrolled through her cell phone and found a picture she’d taken of her pup modeling his wedding attire, looking slightly annoyed with the tall hat, tuxedo top jacket and matching black bowtie.
“He looks grumpy.” Mrs. Arnsby chuckled.
“It’s the hat. It’s too tall.” Morgan told her she was working on scrunching it down so it wasn’t as tippy.
“The colors are neutral. You can’t go wrong with black and white.” The cook rummaged around in the first bin before setting it aside. “This middle bin might have what we’re looking for.”
She sifted through the contents, digging through stacks of fabric—velvet, silk, wool, linen and lace. “We need it to be, as you said, on the fancy-schmancy end.”
Morgan ran a light hand over a shimmering black fabric. “This one is nice. How hard would it be to make a ring pouch out of this?”
Mrs. Arnsby bit her lower lip, critically studying the material. “This would look nice as part of his tuxedo ensemble.” She set the fabric aside and assembled some additional supplies before carrying them to her sewing machine tucked away in the corner. “We’ll have this put together in a jiffy.”
Morgan quietly watched her get to work, the cook’s fingers flying as she snipped, sewed, trimmed and tucked.
“I have a smidgen of tweaking to do. While I’m doing that, why don’t you pick out a button? You’ll find a bunch in the bottom bin.”
Morgan flipped the lid, revealing oodles of buttons in all different sizes, shapes and colors. She let out a low whistle. “I’ve never seen so many buttons in my life.”
“I collect them from flea markets and yard sales. No two are the same.”
She dug through the first bin. Morgan set a couple of contenders aside and started on the next bin, where she found a few more.
She opened the third and final drawer. A crystal button, sparkling under the kitchen light, caught her eye. “I think I found it.” She held the button up. “Will this work?”
“Absolutely.”
Morgan handed it to her. “Thank you for helping me. The ring holder will be so much nicer than a store bought one.”
“Because it was made with love,” Mrs. Arnsby said.
Morgan ruffled her pup’s ears. “Who knows? We might need it again.”
The cook abruptly stopped sewing. “Did Wyatt…are you?”
“No.” Morgan laughed out loud. “I wasn’t hinting a proposal is in the works. I was only commenting I want to keep it in the event there are nuptials down the road.”
“Maybe even for Quinn and Brett.”
“Speaking of Quinn, did I tell you she adopted a dog?”
“From the local animal shelter?”
“Yes. Her name is Can-dee, although I think Quinn might end up changing it. She’s Chester’s twin.”
The cook shot her a quick side glance. “Chester has a twin?”
“Actually, we found Chester around the same time the other dog was taken to the shelter. Quinn and I think they may be siblings.” Morgan told her they planned to introduce them during the overnight housewarming party.
“When she’s ready for company, tell Quinn to bring her by. She could probably use some plumping up.” Mrs. Arnsby finished sewing the crystal in place. The last step was threading a thick piece of black yarn through the ring bag, securing it. “I think we’re ready to give it a test run.”
Morgan called Chester, who had wandered off to explore. While she held her pup, Mrs. Arnsby placed the ring holder around his neck. She leaned back to admire her handiwork. “I think this will work.”
Morgan gave it a light tug, a “Chester tester” to see how he would react. He didn’t even flinch. “I think he’s going to be okay with it.”
Working together, the women packed up the sewing and craft supplies, and Morgan helped return them to the closet. Chester, still wearing his ring pouch, sat patiently waiting by the door.
“You’re such a good boy.” Morgan fed him a handful of his favorite treats. “Tell Mrs. Arnsby thank you.”
Chester held out his paw.
“You’re going to be the most adorable ring bearer ever.”
Morgan shaded her eyes as they ambled across the driveway. “I see the workers are prepping for the tents. I wouldn’t mind taking a sneak peek.”
Changing direction, the women circled around the side of the house, passing by the patio area and making their way along the marked path toward the spot where the trellis was being assembled.
Morgan slowed, trying to guesstimate how far Chester would have to walk to make it to the altar.
Mrs. Arnsby must’ve been thinking along the same lines. “You’re trying to figure out if he’ll stay focused long enough to make it to the altar.”
“I am. Since we’re here, let’s give it a trial run. You stay here with Chester.” Morgan hurried to the designated spot and shot her a thumbs up.
Mrs. Arnsby gave him a firm pat on the rear. Chester lowered his ears and gave her the side eye, as if to ask, “what was that for?”
“Go on, now,” she coaxed. “Morgan is calling you.”
“C’mon, Chester.”
Chester, with ears up and tail down, began making his way along what would be the aisle. A butterfly flitted past, capturing his attention. He veered off, dashing toward it at full speed while the butterfly fluttered away.
“Over here!” Morgan waved her hands. “This way!”
Abandoning the chase, Chester moseyed back to the center and continued toward her. He made it to within ten feet of Morgan when he decided it was time to rest and did just that…plopping down on the ground, giving her the “come and get me” look.
Mrs. Arnsby clicked her tongue. “I think you might have your work cut out for you. You could bribe him with treats.”
Morgan tapped her lower lip, watching as her pup rolled around in the grass. “Treats are always an option.”
“Tuck a few in your bra,” the cook joked.
“It might come down to that. One way or another, I’ll make sure Chester makes it to the altar.”