Chapter 15
Rain is beautiful. It’s the sky opening up and saying, “Golf is cancelled”. It’s an entire day that I get to spend at home, not reporting to school. I could get a jump start on an article for next week or maybe even hang out with Sarah Mae when she gets out of school before movie night with Mom. I lay in my bed, warm and cozy looking out my window to see the sun shining. The benefit of living in the south and being a good 30 miles from school is that it”s raining in Briarwood and the sun is shining here.
I’m feeling well enough that I might even enjoy a cup of coffee on the patio and people watch some of the guests. I can keep myself so preoccupied that I won’t have any time to think of Ben or how I’m considering the possibility of expanding our friendship.
A knock at my door springs me into the beginning of not thinking about Ben. “Mia are you up?” Mom’s voice sounds through the door.
“Up” I call. “Well awake anyway.” The door opens and my mom frantically comes in. She’s already dressed for the day in her signature pencil skirt and fitted blouse. Even though the inn has a simple charm, Mom insists on business dress for management. She says it helps elevate to higher-end clientele.
“Okay, so I know that you probably planned on having a relaxing day reaping the benefits of rain in Briarwood, but as it turns out, the inn is also going to get to reap some of those benefits. The country club has some flooding issues due to the rain and now a wedding that was supposed to be held there is being moved here. Even though we normally would never attempt to host a wedding on a day”s notice, the father of the bride made me an offer that, quite frankly, I couldn’t refuse. Now I need all hands-on deck making this happen.” She sounds like she’s three cups of coffee into her morning. I don’t think she took a breath that whole rant. Exasperated, she collapses at the foot of my bed.
“You want to plan AND set up a wedding in a day? Are you crazy?” I must still be sleeping.
“We don’t have to plan this time.” She assures me. “They have a wedding planner and all the rentals are booked. As it turns out, we are the only location that has a similar set up. We just need to show around the rental company, decorate, and collaborate with the wedding planner to make sure everything runs smoothly. They even have their own catering.” She is trying to convince herself more than me at this point.
I sit up and wipe some sleep from my eyes. “Okay, let me run this back. Everything is planned. Décor and everything else provided. We just have to help facilitate?”
“Yes.” mom reassures. Well, if that’s all. Ugh! So much for my day off.
“Okay, and did you let Gabriel know that there is an outside catering company coming in? He’s fine with it?” I cannot see the in-house chef/my mom’s best friend ever being okay with outsider food entering the premises.
“About that… I thought we could tell him together.” Mom smiles at me.
“Oh no.” I sling my feet out of bed and onto the floor to stride across the room to my wardrobe. “There’s no way I’m being a part of that conversation. I will tie tulle and direct vendors all day, but I’m not telling Gabriel that you’re letting another chef serve food mere feet from his kitchen.”
“Oh, come on. You know he won’t yell at you.” She’s senile.
“I will come in after and do damage control. Final offer.” I start pulling out a pair of comfortable black slacks and a sleeveless white dress shirt. If I have to work today, I’ll need to dress professionally as well. Vendors won’t like taking directions from a teenager, especially if I go in with the sweatpants I had planned for today. I will mourn you faded gray sweats. Another day.
“I’ll take it.” Mom beams and comes over to hug me from behind. “Thank you. I owe you. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your day.”
I place my hands on her arms and lean into her embrace. “Don’t thank me yet, thank me with Chinese takeout and a makeup movie night if we get through this.”
“How about I throw in a new pair of shoes too?” I choke a little and then laugh it off, thinking of Sarah Mae’s earlier metaphor.
“I’ll be down in a bit.” With all my clothes in hand, I move to the bathroom to start getting ready. Having my own bathroom is one of the perks of living in a renovated inn.
By the time I make it downstairs, all chaos has unleashed. The inn’s been invaded inside and out. There are countless vendors dressed in white button-ups and ties. I blend right in. In the crowd, I catch a glimpse of my mom by the reception desk in a lively conversation with a woman in a bright pink suit and matching 6-inch stilettos. She looks like she went shopping in Dolly Parton’s closet. Her hair is even styled like the iconic singer. My money is on either wedding planner or the mother of the bride.
I approach the two and Mom spots me. “Oh good, Celia, this is my daughter Amelia, I was telling you about.”
The most southern accent I have ever heard comes from this woman’s mouth, which is a feat considering we live in Georgia. “Amelia, it’s a pleasure. I’m just so gosh darn happy that we were able to secure a venue this soon.” I take her perfectly hot pink manicured hand. “I cannot wait to work with you today. Your mom tells me that you will run point for vendor set up?”
“Yes ma’am. I can do that and anything else you need today.” My own accent comes out thicker than intended. Mom bumps my arm. I stand taller and try to imitate some of the confidence she has. If this is as big of a payday as she says, it has to go well.
“Well, butter my biscuits. This is just great. You know when Clair mentioned your little inn as a replacement option, I wasn’t convinced. I mean, I had heard y’all had done some smaller scale weddings, but something of this scale.”
Mom interjects, “I’m sorry, Clair?”
“Yes, Clair Roberts. She is friends with the bride’s mother. She was at the club when we realized the flooding had ruined our ceremony location, and of course, an indoor wedding was out of the question.”
“I’m going to have to apologize. I need to hear that again.” Shocked by the news of grandma’s suggesting our inn. Mom asked for clarification “My mother. Clair Roberts?”
Celia, not taking this as anything out of the norm. “Yes, yes, of course, dear. She went on and on about how beautiful your grounds were and insisted I come check this location. As always, she was right. Stunning grounds and charming interior. This may just be one of the best weddings I have ever thrown.”
Mom, still in a state of shock, loses her composure so I jump in. “Well, we are glad to host you. Where would you like me to get started?”
Celia goes into a list of things that need to get done causing Mom to jump back into full Lizzie Mode, moving around and directing people. With the newly bestowed wedding clipboard in hand, I begin guiding vendors around the inn. First, the tables and chairs are set up off the back porch for the reception. They will still have a view of the pond but be far enough away so no ducks should try to hit the dance floor. Next, chairs for the ceremony and setting the arbor up near the 100-year-old magnolia tree. I’ve seen many weddings under this tree. When we were little, Sarah Mae and I would have tea parties out here and have our Barbies get married using lantana flowers as bouquets. After the ceremony sight is well underway, I direct florists and decorators. It isn’t until the caterers show up to start prepping for the rehearsal dinner that I take a break.
Now is as good a time as any to go into the kitchen to see how Gabriel is taking the news. “Salmon puffs, they are serving salmon puffs! It’s a disgrace!” I hear him before entering the swinging doors. As I come in, “Amelia, good, one sane person. Did you know they are serving salmon puffs?” Gabriel is fuming in his black chef’s coat and matching bandana. His normally tan skin, now showing shades of red. He is tall and gorgeous and would be any woman’s dream. His husband Michael crushes those dreams.
“How did you manage to get the menus this fast?” I laugh. Going straight to the prep station I steal a piece of carrot and pop it into my mouth.
“I have my ways” he responds. “You should be thanking me. This menu is uninspired. When does the wedding party get here? I’ve prepared my own dish to help them see they have better options.” I don’t doubt it.
“Gabriel.” I say firmly “You cannot order and prep an entire wedding worth of food in a night. We don’t have the staff. However, I’ll be working the event and will surely perish with only salmon puffs as an option.” I smile. “Sooooo, if you wanted to make me my own special Amelia wedding relief dish, you would save me from becoming malnourished.”
“This girl.” He throws his hands up. “I will concede only if you promise to offer some of my appetizers during the rehearsal dinner. This menu says nothing about platters for the rehearsal dinner. They need something as the wedding party and family arrives.”
“You and I both know if I serve your appetizers tonight, they will insist on switching caterers. We don’t have the time.” The ego stroke is just what he needs to relent.
“Fine.” He pouts.
“You know, the wedding party did book rooms for tonight.” I raise my brows. “Which means breakfast in the morning is all you? Think of all the different options you could prepare. The fruit plate sculptures you could do for the bridal suite.”
“My beautiful girl, I love the way you think.” Gabriel smiles. He is calm and now I get the appetizers he has prepared for lunch. A win-win if there ever was one.
As I exit the kitchen ready to return to vendor directing duties, I run smack dab into a very hard chest. I stumble a little attempting to gain my bearings, ready to apologize profusely to… Ben? Standing in a dark blue dress shirt, khaki pants, with his hair perfectly styled is Ben, who is looking at me slightly taken aback.
“Doro- I mean, Amelia.” He adjusts. He is standing with two men, one that looks similar to him but a few years older and a much older man who could be in his 50s to 60s. It’s hard to tell.
“Hi Ben. What are you doing here?” I don’t address the men with him, but they look at me with interest.
“My brother is getting married.” He takes in my appearance. “Do you work here?”
“Kind of. This is my mom’s inn.” I gesture around me.
The older man interrupts. “Benedict, are you going to introduce us to your… friend?”
Flustered. “Sorry Dad. This is Amelia Roberts. We go to school together.”
“Roberts?” He takes it in. In his deep voice. “Roland’s granddaughter? Well, I’ll be. Nice to meet you young lady. Your grandfather is a friend of mine, good man.”
“Thank you sir. It’s nice to meet you. Mr. Blake, I presume.” I stick my hand out very professionally. He takes it and shakes firmly.
“I’m Brody, also the groom.” The younger guy interjects smiling. “Nice to meet you, Amelia. Beautiful place you and your mom have here.”
“Thank you and congratulations on the wedding.” I’m still surprised to see Ben here, but I try to remain professional. “Well, let me know if y’all need anything, but I should get back to set up. We want the rehearsal dinner to run smoothly.” I nod politely.
Brody responds, “Of course, we don’t want to keep you.”
I take the opportunity to rush back outside. As I reach the door, I look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Ben is staring. There goes no thinking of him today.