Chapter 16 Cindy
The Aisle Files checklist was a map of sheer insanity.
Cindy stared at the unexpected email that popped up three hours before the rehearsal dinner.
Dominique said she’d stop by today for a quick walk-through, but she never showed, texting that she’d send an email with instructions instead and try to come by “later.”
There was a later?
Cindy and Jack had done a rehearsal with Nicole and MJ, her only attendants, and Red, who was Jack’s best man. In the days since the visit to the ER, her father had been quieter than usual, but back to himself. Benny, their ringbearer, was rarely more than a foot from the old man’s side.
Jack had left for the airport to pick up his mom, and Cindy had been on her way to the empty cabin that MJ had designated as her “bridal suite” when she made the mistake of stopping in her office.
And there it was—the email from hell.
The subject line from Dominique glared at her in bold capital letters:
ABSOLUTE MUST-HAVES FOR VIRAL COVERAGE — FINAL!
Cindy groaned, letting her eyes skim the endless document. The bullet points had sub-bullets. The sub-bullets had footnotes. There were timestamps and suggested audio clips and little purple lightning bolt emojis calling out “trend moments.”
The words blurred as Cindy blinked and read out loud.
“‘Flat-lay of invitation suite with silk ribbon and vintage stamps (borrow if necessary)— include heirloom jewelry box for ‘legacy’ emotional resonance.’”
What did that even mean? Would a snow globe work? She glanced at the one on the shelf near her desk.
Then back to the email to read about an “opening shot” that described a pull-back reveal from the Starling Room to the mountain range during the golden-hour—oh, now she cared about light time just twenty-four hours before the ceremony—with “no guests in shot.”
How could they do that? The guests would be there. She should just pile them into the Snowberry Lodge kitchen to wait for the pull-back reveal, whatever that was.
She scrolled some more, jaw tightening as she read about the “Get Ready With Me” TikTok moment with entire bridal party—there were two attendants!—including hair/makeup time lapse, trending audio (Dominique to choose from approved list).
With a mix of terror and a nervous laugh, she slid the cursor lower on the page to read about the champagne spray moment on porch or gazebo (weather permitting) with slow-mo toggle on for iPhone third angle.
“What language is she speaking?” Cindy muttered.
“The language of love, also known as a wedding cake.” Gracie stood in her doorway, dressed in a beautiful black sheath with a silver scarf. “Would you like to see it? My mom is currently adoring it in the kitchen.”
“Oh! Thank heavens!” Cindy stood and reached for her niece. “Finally, something about a wedding I understand. Cake.”
“And it is one hundred percent the opposite of your first wedding cake,” Gracie said. “As I promised Uncle Jack.”
Cindy let out a soft laugh. “Jack’s been so superstitious about doing things differently this time,” she said. “So, no chocolate?”
“Vanilla and lemon, like you wanted,” Gracie said, lifting her chin with pride. “With red flowers. It’s gorgeous. Like, cry-a-little gorgeous. Come see.”
“Let me—just—” She glanced back at the computer. The checklist sat there like a bad dream that would be waiting when she came back. “Speaking of superstitious—is it bad luck to hate someone the day before your wedding?”
“Only if it’s the groom.”
Laughing, Cindy followed her to the kitchen where MJ was indeed taking pictures and Nicole was practically dancing around a glorious three-tiered masterpiece.
Cindy’s breath caught. The cake was a classic, frosted in a textured icing that looked like wind-swept snow.
Tiny red roses spilled like a ribbon from the top tier to the bottom, tucked in with evergreen sprigs and little bits of cranberries that glowed like ornaments.
It was beautiful and joyous and utterly perfect.
“Oh,” Cindy whispered, hand to her mouth. “Gracie.”
“Do you love it?” her niece asked, eyes sparkling. “I was so inspired knowing it was for you.”
She wrapped an arm around Gracie. “It’s a dream.”
“Where do we keep it?” Nicole asked, circling like a cat who wanted to claim it. “Because I kind of want to stand guard until tomorrow.”
“Let’s put it in the dining room,” Gracie said. “No one will be in there and it’s better not to refrigerate it. The frosting will keep that texture and won’t get sweaty. I have a special tent covering so no one will so much as breathe on it.”
They took it to the large dining area where guests would soon fill the five small tables and enjoy breakfast before skiing when the lodge reopened. But today, as it had been for a year, this room was empty and the perfect place for her cake.
After Gracie had covered the cake and closed the dining room door, Cindy tried not to think about the email. She wanted to sink into the comfort of the kitchen with her sister, daughter, and niece…and forget about that checklist.
“Hey.” MJ wound an arm around Cindy’s waist. “You okay?”
Cindy tried to shrug and found herself shaking her head. The honesty rose so fast it made her lightheaded.
“I…don’t know,” she confessed on a sigh. “I’m thinking about the Aisle Files list. About trending audios and flat-lays and whether golden hour tomorrow will be cloudy and if Dominique is going to hate our chairs. But all I want to think about is my wedding.”
Instantly, the three of them surrounded her, a contingent of emotional bodyguards, support and love at the ready.
Cindy let herself fall into the group hug. “I hate that I’m admitting this,” she said, “but I’m more worried about getting this coverage than I am about…about marrying Jack.”
Her throat closed around his name, not because it hurt, but because it meant everything.
“I know Aisle Files is our big break,” she continued, the dam broken now.
“Without this press, Snowberry Weddings may never make it onto the map. We’ve worked so hard, all of us.
Dominique is…well, she’s difficult, but she’s giving us a shot.
And it’s…it’s taking away from my big day, and I know it and I hate that I know it and I still feel like I have to do it. ”
Gracie reached for her hand and squeezed it so warmly Cindy felt it down to her toes. “It’s a lot,” Gracie said simply. “And you’re right to feel like it’s a lot.”
MJ kissed her temple. “It’s natural to want the business to thrive,” she said. “But you are also allowed to say no to anything that steals your joy.”
Nicole nodded. “We’ll handle Dominique, Mom,” she said with determination. “You’re the bride, not the content provider.”
But she was also the owner and manager of Snowberry Weddings. Somehow, she had to work while she got married. How had she put herself into such an awful corner?
“Tell us some of what’s on the list,” MJ said. “Maybe we can help.”
“I wish.” Cindy rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a tiny, strangled laugh. “It’s fine. I’ll get a few of the must-do’s done and put off the rest. She rudely didn’t show this afternoon and now I don’t know when—or if—we can expect her tonight.”
“Tonight is your dinner at High West Distillery,” Gracie said. “You can’t miss that!”
No, she couldn’t.
“Let me go back and remind her that I’m the bride and she can figure this out tomorrow.” But even as she blew a kiss and rushed back to her office, she was already thinking of a few things on that list she could squeeze in.
As she slid into her chair, the phone on her desk lit up with Dominique’s name.
Or she could tell this human bulldozer to drive off a cliff.
Clearing her throat, she touched the speaker button. “Hello—”
“I’m waiting for your response.”
Her back stiffened. “My rehearsal dinner is in a few hours,” she said through gritted teeth. “My future—and former—mother-in-law is landing at the airport shortly. My family is gathered and…I don’t know what a slow-mo toggle is, so—”
The other woman laughed. “Bride panic. So natural. Listen, Cin, the crew needs to come by tonight—”
“We won’t be here,” Cindy said, fisting her hands. “We have a private room reserved for our dinner and—”
“All you have to do is gather a few things and we—”
Jack walked in, some snow dusting the shoulders of a tanned suede jacket.
“You’re back early,” she mouthed, then pointed to the phone on her desk. “Dominique.”
He rolled his eyes and dropped into the guest chair, not looking any happier than she felt as the woman on the other end of the phone droned on and on.
“Listen, for our preproduction shots, I’ll need the bridesmaids’ dresses laid out and I’d like a copy of your invitation, the RSVP card, and is the cake there yet? We could—”
Searching Jack’s face, Cindy made a sudden decision. “Can you please hold, Dominique?”
“Well, I—”
Cindy cut her off and tapped the phone. “What’s going on?” she asked Jack.
“Mom’s plane got rerouted to Chicago. She’ll get in tonight…at midnight.”
“Oh, no. Poor Bertie.”
He shrugged. “I’ll pick her up after the dinner.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
“It sounds like you’ll be working…for Dominique.”
Cindy closed her eyes. “Just let me get rid of her somehow.” She pressed the phone and took a breath. “Listen, Dom—”
“I know, I know,” the woman interrupted. “You’re freaking out. Time’s tight on my end, so leave the lodge unlocked and I’ll get into the venue. You go enjoy your little dinner thing. We’ll get as much done without you as possible. Can do?”
It sounded like the out she desperately needed. “Yes,” she said, not coming up with one reason why she had to be there.
“You can get to the rest of my list tomorrow morning. Bye!”
“Tomorrow morning?” Cindy spoke to the dead air, tears of frustration welling.
“What’s the rest of her list?” Jack asked.
“You really don’t want to know.”
Without asking for permission, Jack turned her open laptop to read the screen.
His eyebrows climbed, then knit, then his mouth twitched, fighting a laugh. “Seventeen point five seconds?”