18. Chapter 18
I couldn’t work yet. Still needed to get my work visa sorted. Look at me, saying things like “sorted.” So I was back in my old role: wedding planner and sister of the bride.
The drive to Inverness took us to the second MacAlister Inn, where Lindsay, Sydney, and Elspeth were waiting. Drew MacAlister—Angus’s best friend since they were boys—owned both this location and the one in Drumnadrochit where my sister would say her vows.
We sat at a table by the window. Soon, Lindsay emerged from the kitchen in her white chef uniform, carrying a tray of appetizers. She set it down and pulled Angus and Caitlin into a tight hug.
Not to be outdone, Sydney—Angus’s sister who managed the place with her girlfriend Elspeth—practically bounced across the room until she reached her brother, then crossed her arms in mock anger. “I can’t believe you’ve been here for ages and this is the first I’m seeing of you.”
Elspeth walked over and gave Sydney a gentle squeeze around the shoulders. “They’ve had their hands full, Syd.”
“Well, we’re here now, aren’t we? Ready to sort through all the menus and ribbons and whatnot that Mum insists will make or break the entire affair,” said Angus, sounding as if he were walking into battle.
Caitlin, Elspeth, and I erupted in a chorus of “They are important!” followed by a burst of laughter.
Angus grinned and shook his head in mock surrender.
“Lindsay will go over menus with you, and I think I’m on ribbon, flowers, gazebo—that kind of thing. Who’s doing songs, poems, music—all that? Angus?” asked Sydney.
Angus rubbed his chin. “We’ve got the music sorted. We do need a poem or two. What were you thinking, Caitlin?”
“You can’t go wrong with Robert Burns. I love Red, Red Rose, but is it a cliche?” asked Caitlin.
“Doesn’t have to be. I’ve always liked it. Shall we say one decision is done?” Angus raised an eyebrow.
“Done and done,” said Caitlin. “Next!”
“These appetizers are looking good…” Angus eyed the spread in front of them. “Are these part of the tasting menu?”
“Yes! We have an assortment of Scottish cheeses here, with crackers.” Lindsay gestured around the table as she spoke. “Over here there’s a nice fig jam for the cheese on your left. Then this next one is shrimp with a pea pod and bacon. Over here, we have bridies—”
“What’s that? A wedding thing?” Caitlin asked.
“Just a cozy little empanada-type thing with cheese inside,” Lindsay said.
“They’re the best!” said Sydney.
Lindsay pointed at the last dish. “And these are haggis bites in pastry puffs.”
“These are all perfect,” said Caitlin between bites. “Don’t you think, Angus? Maybe we should avoid the shrimp and bacon one… on the other hand, it’s protein for anyone who doesn’t do dairy or gluten.”
“Yeah, that was my plan,” said Lindsay. “Should we add another one like that?”
Caitlin tapped a finger to her cheek. “No, I think we’re good.”
“Huzzah! Another decision made!” cheered Angus. “We’re on a roll!”
Lindsay stood. “I’ll be right back with the mains.”
Just then Melissa burst in, cheeks rosy. “So sorry I’m late. Caitlin! You look wonderful! Angus, so great to see you!” She hugged them both, then turned to me. “Abby, thank you so much for coming all the way here early and taking on the wedding plans. What a great sister you are!”
“Aw, thanks. It’s what I do,” I said. “How could I say no?”
“Well, I heard there’s an old flame threatening to spontaneously combust at any moment… how can you say no to that?” Melissa’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she nudged me with her elbow.
“More like a volcano,” Caitlin chimed in with a wicked grin.
I waved my hand dismissively, feeling heat creep up my neck. “You two are impossible.”
“We did hear about the paparazzi story. I can’t believe it,” Melissa whispered, leaning in conspiratorially.
Sydney’s eyes widened. “Wait—paparazzi? What did I miss?”
She and Elspeth dragged their chairs closer and leaned in. I gave them the condensed version—the flash of a camera outside the restaurant, Max’s hand on my back, the kiss—before filling them in on the financier’s latest position regarding the film.
“But she may end up working on the film as a co-writer and producer,” said Caitlin.
“We’ll see,” I said. “It all depends on the studio and Max’s agent and a lot of moving pieces. Films can fall apart so easily, but I feel like if they’ve already spent this much money…”
“Their name’s already on the tea towels,” finished Caitlin, referencing Diana finding out about Charles and Camila shortly before her wedding day.
“Yeah, well. The royal family has to endure tea towels printed before they’ve said ‘I do,’ but movie posters can be changed up to the very last minute. So can final credits. IMDB… nothing in Hollywood is ever set in stone.”
“Except the handprints on the walk of fame,” said Melissa.
“I suppose that’s true,” I agreed. We shared a grin as Lindsay came out with the mains.
“I have salmon with asparagus and mash; a venison with mushy peas and rumbletythump; haggis, neeps, and tatties; or Balmoral chicken—which is stuffed with haggis, wrapped in bacon, and drizzled in whisky sauce.”
We sampled each dish, and I watched Caitlin’s face as she tasted. Angus would eat anything put in front of him with a smile. After we’d made our way through the options, I leaned forward. “So, verdict?”
Lindsay popped up and made an excuse about checking the desserts in the kitchen—giving us space to share our opinions freely.
“Caitlin? It’s gotta be your call. I loved everything,” said Angus, leaning back and stretching in his chair.
Caitlin propped her chin in her hand, surveying what was left of the dishes. “Even though she stacks the haggis, I think the Balmoral chicken looks nicer, more elevated…”
“Sounds good to me. It’s your wedding,” said Melissa. “Right, Angus?”
“Absolutely,” said Angus, without hesitation.
“So I think if we have a choice of Balmoral chicken or salmon, that should be enough, right?” asked Caitlin.
“You might consider a vegan option,” Elspeth suggested.
“She didn’t make one. I don’t want to ask,” said Caitlin, worrying her lip. “Do we even have any vegans?”
“There are always vegans,” Angus proclaimed dramatically. “For wherever there is haggis, blood pudding, veal, or venison, there will be vegans.”
Sydney swatted her brother. “Careful who you hate. It might be someone you love,” she said with a grin.
Angus gave his sister a light nudge in return.
“I don’t hate them. I’m just saying, there are a lot of people catching on that meat isn’t that great for the environment and choosing a plant-based diet.
I’m certainly fond of veggies myself. But for my wedding in Scotland, I want some haggis on the menu. It goes with my kilt.”
“I thought the sausage goes with your kilt,” said Caitlin, just loud enough that we all chuckled.
“So, uh, on that note… Do we have a consensus?” I asked.
Caitlin and Angus nodded.
I smirked. “So no haggis for Angus on his wedding day?”
Angus grinned back at me. “Balmoral Chicken is stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon. And we’ve got the haggis bites. So I’m good.”
“Great! What’s next?” asked Caitlin.
As if on cue, Lindsay pushed through the kitchen doors with a tray of desserts.
“Wait, aren’t we getting a wedding cake?” I asked.
“We’ll have a wedding cake, but I had a friend who did a little dessert room at her wedding, so guests could have a variety of sweets.
That way we don’t have to have a colossal wedding cake that might fall over.
I thought we’d give it a try if Mom and Dad are okay with it? ” said Caitlin, looking worried.
I nodded along as she spoke. “No, yeah. That’s a great idea.”
Lindsay carefully placed her tray on the table. “Before we talk cake, please, take a spoon and try these. I want to be sure they’re just what you want.”
After the tasting, we sat and sipped our tea while listening to the rain tap against the windows.
I hoped they’d wrapped early.