Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Francis
Two Months Later…
It was the best of times, it was the weirdest of times, but it seemed as though the worst of times were behind us.
Mostly.
It turned out that I was indeed spoiled by the romance writers, because the next two retreats that came through were unquestionably difficult to work with.
I hosted a quilting guild from Sacramento, and though they’d been kind old ladies, there had been numerous complaints about the facilities (the beds were too tall), the food (the dishes were too spicy), and the heat outside (as if I could control the weather?).
And they may have been kind old ladies, but they didn’t tip the housekeeping staff, which was suggested in the contract, and one of them was tech savvy enough that she left a three-star review on Google.
Since I was just getting started, it brought down my average. Aggravating, indeed.
The other retreat was the leadership team from an environmental nonprofit, and all they did was fight with each other.
Then they spotted me talking to Kendall outside, and he happened to have Richard Burton on his shoulder.
One of the men started grilling me about Kendall’s operation and whether he had a permit for exotic animals, “because that’s how these things get out of control.
” I assured him that everything was on the up and up.
They didn’t give a bad review, but I’d probably be “all booked up” if they ever tried to book again.
The blessing of not needing the income was that I could be picky about my patrons.
The paint-and-sip parties were a huge hit, and I even participated in one. We did a landscape painting of the lake with the fountain on, and I made sure to add in a kingsnake and John Wayne with his little hat on. I gave it to Kendall, and he hung it in his bedroom. Aw.
The dance socials also continued to be well-attended, and Finn and Jim started plotting a Fall Amateur Partner Dance Competition. Just for funsies. Kendall and my mom were keen on taking the trophy if and when they held the contest, so they practiced often.
My guest painters from Louisiana were super cool, and when they finished their painting, they asked if they could reserve the spot again the following summer. So did my solo author, as well as the romance author group. It was nice to have things booked so far in advance.
Kimo had been here for the past month, working on our fence, which he’d promised to finish before the wedding.
He’d taken over one of my metal sheds as his workshop, and it had been fascinating watching the project come to life.
He and his wife had driven out from Florida in their fifth wheel and planned to stay for a bit.
She was working at the hospital in the next town over as a travel nurse since it paid double what she was making in Florida, and it allowed her to make frequent trips to the Bay Area to spend time with her family.
Kendall, Rog, and Arnie helped Kimo install the fence two weeks ago, but he said he needed a little more time on the gate.
That was totally planned, by the way. I wanted the big reveal to happen on Kendall’s birthday, which was the day before the wedding. I couldn’t wait for him to see it.
My beloved cousin had been absent from the fun, however, as his regional director requested that he take over their territory north of Sacramento while another agent was out on maternity leave.
He was making a ton of money on sales, but he said all the driving sucked, and not only did he miss me, but he missed his fire boys.
They’d just started feeling out what their potential relationship could look like when he was pulled away.
More than once I tried to convince Derek to go out on his own as an agent and move to Floggy Barrel.
I didn’t think it would take that much effort.
Time would tell if this throuple had staying power. I wanted that for all three of them.
My life in Flabby Bosom continued to amaze and challenge me every day.
It was more than I could have possibly hoped for when Derek first showed me the house of dreams. Maison De Reve was becoming a sort of mecca for artists in Northern California, I’d made some wonderful friends, and I had the absolute best boyfriend I ever could have dreamed up. All was well…
Until I discovered that the woman who’d booked the first wedding at Maison De Reve for September was the bridezilla of all bridezillas.
It wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world—I was fairly adept at dealing with difficult people, my prior boss notwithstanding—except that the bride happened to be the granddaughter of Evelyn Deevers.
Who, I didn’t realize at the time she booked my venue, was Foggy Basin’s original Karen.
And her granddaughter’s name?
Actually, Karen.
Karen was scheduled to marry the sweetest guy, Todd Davidson, on September 19th, and in the four weeks leading up to the ceremony, I got no less than five emails and/or phone calls per day.
Every decision we made together, she second-guessed.
Every suggestion I made, she turned her nose up at it, which was fine.
It was her wedding, and she should have what she wanted, but things were getting out of hand, and as this was my first wedding, I had no idea how much I should put my foot down.
In hindsight, I should have consulted with a wedding planner. Instead, I had Mom and Auntie Judy, who heckled every decision. Not helpful.
Evelyn had invited nearly the entire town of Foggy Basin, it seemed, and I was trying not to freak out at the idea of potentially having two hundred people on my property, the max capacity I was allowed.
The RSVP list continued to grow and grow, to the point I had to reach out to the Honey Bucket folks for porta potties, which I ranted and raved about, keeping Derek in stitches.
I had to call the furniture rental folks three times and ask for more tables and chairs.
She fired two florists before finding someone from Sacramento who was willing to trek all the way out here.
Evelyn insisted on hiring her own caterers, who were horrible at communication, and they planned to set up a seafood buffet.
In nearly ninety-degree weather. I feared it would be a nightmare, but that’s what the bride wanted.
What Karen wanted, Karen got, including the cottage for her wedding night.
I’d balked, but Mom and Auntie Judy argued that it was a great perk for the venue.
“You just better get a new bed for the occasion. I’m not sleeping on that mattress afterward.”
Mom and Auntie Judy moved into the big house for the week leading up to the wedding. They looked on in horror at the goings-on, making sure to give me their unfiltered thoughts in Cantonese.
Shay did indeed decide to stay in California and live in the mobile home on Kendall’s property, and she took me up on the offer to be my assistant.
She turned out to be well-suited to event planning.
She handled every interaction with Karen and Evelyn with way more grace than I did.
Especially when it came to the bachelorette party. I let her handle that all on her own.
It took place three nights before the wedding.
Just Karen and her six best friends, who were also in the wedding party.
Guess they’d all taken the week off work so they could be here the whole time.
They rented the guest wing for a pool party with some “special entertainment.” We watched the first special guest arrive, a woman with long black hair driving a silver Corvette.
She parked next to the pool and climbed out wearing a long red wraparound dress and high heels, carrying a shoulder bag.
Auntie Judy gasped when she saw the logo on the side of the bag.
“That lady’s going to do a sex party! I’ve seen that name before.”
“A what now?” I asked, my stomach turning. I turned to Shay. “They didn’t say anything about a sex party, did they? Gross! We are, without a doubt, going to rework the contracts to include absolutely no sex parties.”
“They’re not having a sex party. It’s a sex toy party.”
Mom and I turned to Auntie Judy in unison.
“Explain yourself,” Mom said to her sister, arms crossed over her chest.
“After Gordon passed. You remember Tina? She kept after me, asking when I was ready to get back out there. It was just over a year later, and she surprised me with one of those parties at her house. They had edible body powders, nipple clamps, giant dildos and everything. I had no idea people used those kinds of things.”
“First threesomes and now sex toys, Auntie Judy? Wait till I tell Derek.”
She smacked me, but I was too weirded out to even respond.
“They’re probably going to use those toys in your guest wing, Francis.” Mom clucked her tongue at me. “Told you weddings were a bad idea.”
“You did not!” I glared at her then shook my head. “We’re going to need an exorcist when they leave,” I said.
“Indubitably, a ritual cleansing and complete sanitation are in order,” Auntie Judy agreed.
“Maybe just burn it down and start over,” Mom mused. She looked between us. “What? You know a good firefighter who will keep everyone safe.” She waggled her eyebrows, and Shay groaned.
“HR violation,” Shay cried out, pointing at me. “You’re not allowed to make innuendos about my dad while we’re working.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“I did,” Mom said with a wink. “And I’m his mom, so I get to give him a hard time whenever I want to.” She gave Shay a challenging look, and Shay sighed.
“Fine. But no jokes about firefighter strippers.”
No sooner had she said that than there was a knock on the door. I went to go answer—and opened it to find three Hollywood-ready pretend fire boys.
“Can I help you?”
Their costumes were obviously from the Halloween store or equivalent, complete with thin material they were busting out of, plastic hats, fake badges, and they were all chewing gum. Loudly.