Home for the Summer Page 12

  “How are your plans going?” Lucy asked as if she didn’t know that Vanessa was stumbling where the wedding reception was concerned.

  “More slowly than they should, I’m afraid.” Vanessa leaned on the counter and sighed.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Oh, if only.” Vanessa sighed. “I could never afford you, and I know your time is valuable and that you won’t be here …”

  Lucy waved a hand dismissively. “I always have time to help a friend. We can make time to talk over what you want to do, if you like. Maybe I could help you to streamline things. Consider it a wedding gift.”

  “I just can’t seem to make up my mind about anything and the day keeps getting closer and closer …” Vanessa’s eyes began to take on a desperate look.

  The bell over the shop door rang and several middle-aged women came in.

  “This is the place where I got those darling tops last summer,” one was saying. “Oh, and there’s Vanessa!”

  “Oh, hi,” Vanessa greeted the ladies. “Nice to see you back again.”

  “I’ve been telling my friends all about St. Dennis and about how fabulous you are and we just had to take the trip down today.” The woman placed a hand on her chest and said. “I was here in September. Margo? Elizabeth, New Jersey?”

  “Of course. Margo.” Vanessa nodded, and only someone who knew her could tell that she had no recollection of ever having seen this woman before.

  “I’ll leave you to your customers.” Lucy patted Vanessa’s hand. “But how ’bout we try to get together before Sunday morning?”

  “Are you free tonight?” Vanessa asked. “I mean, if you didn’t have any plans, maybe we could sit down for a while …”

  “Sure. Do you want to come to the inn …?”

  “How about at our house? That’s where the wedding is going to be. One of the problems I’m having is how to decorate the rooms to look like a wedding is taking place. And since it’s the weekend before Valentine’s Day, I know everyone will be expecting red roses, which I so do not want to do.”

  “I understand,” Lucy assured her. “Would seven be too early?”

  “Seven is perfect.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Lucy gathered up her purchase.

  “Oh, yay! I’ll call the girls!” Vanessa all but beamed.

  “The girls?”

  “Steffie, Mia, Brooke. This will be so much fun!”

  “Vanessa, are these sweaters on sale?” Margo from Elizabeth, New Jersey, called.

  “Go take care of business,” Lucy told Vanessa. “I’ll see you tonight at seven.”

  “Thanks, Lucy. I so appreciate this …” Vanessa came around the corner of the glass case and did a little dance. “I’m going to have a wedding and now it will be perfect …”

  Lucy laughed. “I can’t promise perfect, but I can promise perfectly organized.”

  “At this point, I’ll take it.” Vanessa gave Lucy a quick hug. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with.…”

  Chapter 10

  SO nice you’re getting out for an evening with girlfriends,” Grace said as Lucy buttoned her coat in the lobby.

  Lucy looked up, puzzled. “I’m just going over to help Vanessa organize her wedding plans, maybe give her a few pointers.”

  “Well, it’s nice that you’re doing it, and I know Vanessa will appreciate any help you can give her. The girl just seems overwhelmed. The wedding, a baby on the way …”

  “Who’s having a baby?” Lucy opened her bag and checked the contents. A notebook, a pen—just in case she needed them—her reading glasses …

  “Vanessa.” Grace folded her arms across her chest. “Didn’t you know?”

  “No. I wouldn’t have guessed. She didn’t look pregnant …” Keys? Where did she put the car keys?

  “Just a very few months, from what I understand.” Grace smiled. “It will be lovely to have a new baby in the family.”

  “Vanessa’s family? Is there something I don’t know about our relationship with her?” She could hear the keys jingling in one of the pockets in her bag, but couldn’t find the right one.

  “Family in the greater sense, dear.”

  Lucy located the keys in the bottom of the center pocket—what was the purpose of that big center pocket, anyway?—and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a while,” she said. “I doubt I’ll be more than an hour or two.”

  “No hurry.”

  Lucy checked her phone for messages while the car warmed up—thank goodness for heated seats—and answered a text from Bonnie about the flowers for the following week’s wedding. She’d spent all afternoon tending to business and had thought she was totally caught up. She sat in the warm car and waited for her partner’s response. After it arrived, she sent one more reply, then put the car in gear and headed off to Vanessa’s house on Cherry Street. By the time she got there, the car was toasty inside and she hated getting out.

  “Shouldn’t be such a wimp when it comes to winter,” she grumbled as she turned off the engine and gathered her bag. “It’s not like I didn’t grow up here. Not like I don’t know what cold is.”

  There were several other cars parked directly in front of Vanessa’s bungalow, making it a longer walk from Lucy’s car to the front door. She rang the doorbell with cold fingers. (Note to self: Gloves are good. Buy a pair.) Vanessa opened the door before Lucy could ring twice.

  “Come in!” Vanessa greeted her with open arms. “Thanks so much for coming, Lucy. I’m excited already.”

  “Well, save the excitement for when we actually come up with an idea or two that you might like.” Lucy dropped her bag on the floor and unbuttoned her coat. She rubbed her cold hands together even though the house was cozy warm.

  “Come sit next to the fire,” Vanessa said, “and let’s see if we can chase that chill.”

  “It really isn’t even that cold out tonight.” Lucy followed her hostess into the living room, where she was shown to a wing chair next to the fireplace. “I’m just so used to the weather in Southern California. They don’t call it ‘sunny’ for nothing.”

  “I’ve never been,” Vanessa told her, “but I’ve heard it was—”

  “Hi, Lucy.” Steffie emerged through double doors with a tray on which sat four glasses and two bottles of wine. “I was just telling Ness how totally cool it was to work with you on our wedding. Everything went so smoothly with you there.”

  She placed the tray on the coffee table and asked, “White or red?”

  “Red, thank you,” Lucy replied.

  “Great choice. The wines are from Hunter’s Vineyard over in Ballard,” Vanessa was saying. “Of course, I’m not drinking because of the baby—it’s strictly club soda for me these days—but I’ve had their wines before and have really enjoyed them.

  “I heard the vineyard and the winery are for sale.” Vanessa ducked into the kitchen and returned with a tray piled with cheese, fruit, and crackers. She set it on the table next to the wine. “We’re hoping some innovative someone will buy it. Though it will be a shame to see the Petersons’ name off the label. They’ve been making wine there for years.”

  “Must be after my time,” Lucy said. “I don’t remember the name or there being a vineyard in St. Dennis.”

  “It’s out on New River Road, down about three miles. Past the Madison farm, you know, where it wraps around the corner of Charles and New River?” Steffie told her. “Which reminds me: Brooke should be along soon. She’s trying to finish up tomorrow’s cupcake orders, but she didn’t think she’d be too late. She said not to wait for her. She’s been really crazy busy trying to get her bakery ready to open—she’s calling it Cupcake because, you know, she’s only making cupcakes. Plus she’s getting ready to move …”

  Steffie opened the wine bottles, poured first from the red, and passed a glass to Lucy. Vanessa sat on the edge of a chair nursing a tall glass of sparkling water with lemon and lime slices from the kitchen.

&nbs
p; “I’ve been in such a tizzy these past few weeks, it’s been hard for me to focus. First Stef’s wedding, then Christmas and all of Grady’s relatives were here. After that was the big sale I had at Bling. All of a sudden the wedding is just a few weeks away and I don’t know what I’m doing.” Vanessa frowned. “The only thing I know for certain is that the ceremony is going to be in here, by the fireplace. I thought maybe we’d have chairs set up going this way.” One hand made an invisible line from one side of the room to the other. “What do you think, Lucy? What would you do in here to decorate?”

  Lucy got up from her chair and gazed around the room, then walked into the foyer, which was wide and bisected by a wide stairwell leading to a landing, then to the second floor. From the foyer, she walked back into the living room.

  “If I could make a suggestion …,” she said.

  “Absolutely. Suggest away.” Vanessa followed Lucy’s line of vision. “You like the bay window …?”

  Lucy nodded. “You have this lovely antique table here, and with candles and some flowers on this beautiful lace cloth, it could be quite the focal point. Having the ceremony at one end of the room instead of in the middle will give you more space for guests to gather.”

  Vanessa walked to the table where Lucy stood. “So I’d have one solid section of chairs instead of two with an aisle,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Unless you’re planning on a long ceremony, you might want to forgo the chairs altogether,” Lucy suggested. “People can stand for ten or so minutes. Except, of course, if you have elderly or infirm guests.”

  “None that I can think of offhand, but we could have a few chairs here in the front. That would save us from taking the sofa and the wing chairs out of the room.”

  “No need to do that,” Lucy told her. “You could move the sofa to the other short wall so that your guests aren’t tripping over it, and the chairs could stay there by the fireplace.”

  “That could be pretty cool,” Steffie noted. “Not what you’d expect—I mean, you’d almost expect to see the ceremony in front of the fireplace. Which could get very warm for you and Grady if you stood there for too long in front of a roaring fire.”

  “I’ll run that past Grady, but I definitely like the idea. Now, what would you suggest for flowers?” Vanessa asked. “All I see this time of year are red roses and I don’t want this to look like a Valentine’s Day party.”

  “White tulips,” Lucy told her. “Masses of white tulips. Assuming, of course, that you like tulips.”

  “I love tulips.” Vanessa’s eyes lit up. “I have tons of them planted out front. All colors. They are glorious when they all bloom and the yard is so colorful, but that won’t be for a few more months. But white tulips …” She glanced at the navy paisley wallpaper. “Yes, I can see white tulips in here.”

  “Would you be ordering from Olivia at Petals and Posies?” Lucy asked.

  Vanessa nodded.

  “Tell her you’d like frosty white vases, all in the same size and shape. I’ll sketch one out for you, if you like.”

  “I’d love that, thank you.”

  “You want five, all identical, to march right across the mantel.” Lucy pointed to the fireplace, where, in her mind’s eye, she could see the vases, the flowers, come to life. “You want the same there on the table in the bay window, only much larger, fuller.” Lucy held her arms to form a circle. “Enormous.”

  Vanessa nodded. “Got it. Gorgeous.”

  “Out here …” Lucy headed toward the foyer. “Another huge spray of white tulips on this marble-topped table, with maybe your guest book alongside it. Then over here, on either side of the steps, white urns filled with curly willow spray painted white with little white fairy lights wound through them.”

  She paused for a moment, looking back into the living room, then smiled. “Maybe something fun, something whimsical.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like maybe silvery-white helium balloons in different sizes, all congregated up around the ceiling like champagne bubbles.”

  “I like that a lot.” Vanessa nodded. “But we’d need tons of them to get the right effect. I’ll talk to Grady about that, maybe put him in charge of the balloons. Cool idea, Lucy. Thanks.”

  Lucy went into the dining room that opened from the other side of the foyer.

  “You have pocket doors here?” Lucy investigated. “Maybe you could close these over during the ceremony. Hang wreaths of white baby’s breath on each door, not in the middle, though. Hang them close to the open edge, so that when the ceremony is over, you slide the doors open partway, and the wreaths are still visible on either side of the opening.”

  “I love that idea.” Vanessa followed Lucy into the dining room.

  “In here, again, white tulips. Big display on the table, then across the back of the sideboard—I am assuming you’ll be serving food on that piece?”

  Vanessa nodded.

  “So instead of flowers at one end, try tall narrow vases that only hold one stem each, and line them right across the back of the sideboard. They’ll look like twice as many with the mirror there behind them, but won’t interfere with the space you need for serving dishes.”

  “I never would have thought of that,” Vanessa told her, “but I love the idea.”

  “What are you wearing, by the way?” Lucy asked.

  “Short white dress, a little on the froufrou side,” Vanessa replied.

  “Vanessa’s our resident girlie-girl,” Stef joined them in the dining room. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “I hesitated about wearing white,” Vanessa admitted, “because I’ve been married before.” She paused. “Well, twice, actually.”

  “The first when she was way too young, the second when she was way too foolish,” Steffie told Lucy. “We told her those didn’t count when deciding what color dress to wear, because this is the marriage that counts.” Stef put an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders. “This is the right guy and the right time, and this time is the only one that matters.”

  “Thanks, Stef.” Vanessa looked as if she were about to tear up. “You’re right about Grady being the right guy. He is the only one that matters.”

  “So a white wedding is totally appropriate,” Lucy noted.

  “I can’t thank you enough.” Vanessa gave Lucy a hug. “You’re making this seem so easy.”

  “It is easy, once you decide what you want to do, and you keep things relatively simple,” Lucy told her. “Are you having a caterer?”

  “Yes. We were lucky to get Deanna Clark. She’s the best on the Eastern Shore, and thanks to Dallas, we were able to get her to squeeze us in that weekend.”

  “Ask her to serve everything in or on white pieces. That will sort of tie it all in,” Lucy said as they all began to drift from the dining room back across the foyer toward the living room.

  “We’re having cupcakes instead of a cake,” Vanessa was saying.

  “Not to mention white ice cream, compliments of moi.”

  “What flavor of white are you making for the occasion, Stef?” Lucy asked. Steffie’s homemade ice cream was famous on the Chesapeake.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Stef confessed. “I keep going back and forth between coconut, which isn’t so original, and white peach. Which could possibly be my favorite of all time. Unfortunately, this is not peach season.”

  “It must be peach season somewhere in the world,” Vanessa said.

  “It’s a matter of finding a sufficient supply of good fruit, which I haven’t been able to do yet. But I haven’t given up.” Steffie patted Vanessa on the back. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I know you are, and I know that whatever you make will be delightful. I’ve never tasted any of your ice cream that hasn’t been fabulous. And trust me,” Vanessa told Lucy, “I have tasted everything Stef makes and it’s all been perfection.”

  “You make me blush.” Steffie took a seat on the sofa. “But it’s all so true.”


  “So if you can’t find white peaches in sufficient quantity, what are the other choices?” Lucy asked.

  “White chocolate mint, or white chocolate mousse.” Stef leaned over and refilled her wineglass. She held up the bottle and asked, “Anyone?”

  “I’ll have a splash more,” Lucy heard herself say. She hadn’t planned on staying for a second glass, but it was delicious and the fire was so nice and warm, why hurry back out into the cold?

  Stef refilled Lucy’s glass.

  “Of course, there’s the old standby, vanilla bean,” Stef continued, “or vanilla with macadamia nuts. I found a terrific supplier in Hawaii when we were on our honeymoon.”

  “I think I’m just going to say ‘surprise me.’ ” Vanessa sat on a hassock in front of a wall of books.

  “I am humbled by your trust in me.”

  “Then again, maybe we should ask Alice,” Vanessa said thoughtfully.

  “Since when does Alice know from ice cream?” Steffie asked.

  “Alice?” Lucy asked.

  “Alice Ridgeway. She lived here in my house for about, oh, I don’t know. Ninety years, maybe.”

  “I know about her. She was a friend of my mother’s,” Lucy told them. She recalled her mother’s recent comment about Alice. “My mother somehow thinks that Alice might still be about.”

  Vanessa nodded and moved to the wing chair opposite the one Lucy was sitting in. “Your mother’s been very helpful in interpreting Alice’s journals and notebooks.”

  “Interpreting …?”

  “You know, Alice’s spells.” Vanessa’s voice dropped an octave. “That woman had a spell for damn near everything you could think of.”

  “Why would my mother know about any of that?”

  “Well, because …” Vanessa paused. “Because …”

  “Because when your mother was younger,” Steffie said carefully, “Alice sort of guided her.”

  “ ‘Guided’ her …?” Lucy asked.

  “Your mother is … sensitive,” Vanessa blurted out.

  “She’s always been a very sensitive person,” Lucy agreed, “but what does that have to do with Alice Ridgeway’s journals? I’m sorry, but I’m confused.”