That's Amore (Weddings by Bella Book #4): A Novel
“Yes, that’s wonderful!” I rushed to give her a hug, and Lily went to the sink to wash her hands, likely happy for the diversion. Jasmine began to fill my ears with all things Fred and I listened patiently. Well, until the fifteen-minute mark, when I announced that I had to get back to the house in less than an hour. Time to get down to business.
We sat down at the table and Jasmine served lunch—pretty little sandwiches cut to look like flowers. The girl had a real knack.
“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” I said after taking a nibble of the chicken salad sandwich. “And this decision comes after a lot of prayer and some serious conversation with D.J. I’m going to be the acting manager of the Town and Country wedding facility, but you two are going to have to run it.”
“Without you?” Lily looked flabbergasted by this announcement.
“My babies are going to come first,” I said. “All four of them.”
“Four?” Jasmine paused from her sandwich to give me a curious look. “Tres. Rosie. The new baby. That’s three.”
“Well now, I have some news that might surprise you.”
Hearing about the twins brought a delightful whoop from Jasmine. Lily, on the other hand, remained silent with her lips pursed. Hmm. Better forge ahead.
“My sister is going to handle most of the upcoming weddings at Club Wed,” I explained. “And I have to count on the two of you to manage things here. I’ll be here for the first few weddings, but after that I’m thinking of passing most everything off to you. Do you think you can handle that?”
“I’m good with business, Bella,” Lily said. “I think we’ve already established that.”
“And I’m the creative one,” Jasmine chimed in. “So I’m sure everything will be fine. This is going to be so much fun!”
I couldn’t help but wonder, but didn’t argue the point. If the twins—ha, twins—could handle things in Splendora, the Rossi family could handle things in Galveston. I hoped.
This led to a conversation about the mayor. I noticed that Jasmine paled when I mentioned the man’s name. “This isn’t our first run-in with him, Bella,” she said. “I have a feeling he’s just out to get people. He has it in for the Neeley family in particular.”
“But why?”
“Maybe you should ask D.J.? Mama tried to tell me about it once but didn’t get very far. I’m not sure.” She took a nibble of her sandwich and leaned back in her chair with a pensive look on her face. “I just know he’s got some sort of issue with the family and that’s all.”
I couldn’t quite fathom how anyone could have a problem with D.J.’s family—them being so nice and all. Still, there was no denying the fact that Mayor Deets seemed bent on taking down the Neeleys. Looked like I needed to get to the bottom of this, and quick.
“Do you think he’ll give Bubba and Jenna a hard time about the new restaurant?” I asked.
“He can’t.” Lily shook her head. “It’s outside of the city limits. So they’re good to go. He won’t be a problem for them.”
“Unless he starts some sort of campaign to keep people away from it once they open.” Jasmine took a swig from her glass of sweet tea. “I’ve heard rumors that he might put pressure on people not to do business with Bubba.”
“But . . . why?” I asked again. None of this made a bit of sense.
Jasmine just shrugged. “Who knows? The guy is a jerk. But in the meantime, let’s just assume the wedding facility will undergo the renovations you’ve already started. We’ll pray that God stops Mayor Deets in his tracks, or that he distracts him with something else.”
“Speaking of the wedding facility . . .” Lily pushed her food aside and reached for her laptop, which she’d placed nearby. “Can we talk about the details for your big day? I’d like to get everything down on paper, if you don’t mind. What date are you looking at for your ceremony?”
I shared all of my thoughts regarding my upcoming vow renewal ceremony, then told the girls all about the article Gabi’s husband would be doing for Texas Bride magazine.
Jasmine’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head at this news. “Ooh, do you think he’d do a piece about my candy business? It’s wedding related. Sort of.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Jasmine, just once could you please let someone else have their moment of glory? This is Bella’s wedding facility we’re talking about, not your business.”
“But the two are linked together now, right?” Jasmine gave me a hopeful look.
I nodded and took a sip of my tea. “Sure. Just make sure you’ve got lots of candies at my reception and I’ll ask Jordan to take pictures. If any of them appear in the article, you’ll get credited, I promise.”
“Okay, so candy at the wedding.” Lily’s fingers clicked against the laptop’s keys. “What else? We’ve never really talked about your wedding or your reception. If we’re going to help you, we’ve got to have details.”
“Vow renewal,” I corrected her.
“Right, right. Vow renewal, sorry.” She looked up from the computer. “I’m just so excited to be a part of this that I keep forgetting you’re already married.”
I pointed to my belly and laughed. “If you need any reminder whatsoever, just keep your eye on this. By the time the ceremony rolls around, I’ll look like I swallowed a basketball. Er, two basketballs.”
Lily’s cheeks flushed pink. “Right. Keep forgetting that too.”
“If you were in my shoes you’d find it hard to forget.” I gave her a little wink. “But don’t let me stop you. What were your ideas about my ceremony?”
“Well, I had this thought . . .” Jasmine raised her hand like a kid in a school classroom, waiting to be picked by the teacher. “And please feel free to shush me if you don’t like it—that you’re in the country now.”
“Right.”
“Well, not really the country per se, but a small town.” Jasmine clasped her hands together at her chest, and I could sense her excitement. “And things here are different. You don’t really want a big citified wedding—er, vow renewal service. Didn’t you mention something about shabby chic?”
“Yeah.”
Lily’s nose wrinkled. “You mean, like all those Pinterest-happy girls who take photos of themselves in the field with their bridesmaids? Tree trunks for centerpieces? Lace on everything?”
“Well, you can take that shabby chic idea as far as you want,” I said. “It could still be really pretty, even if you make it simple. And factor in Christmas. We’re getting married—er, renewing our vows—in early December.”
“Right. Christmas.” Lily typed that into her notes.
I put my hand up and laughed. “Just please promise me, no country blue. And no ducks. Or roosters.” I offered a weak smile. “If we go country, it’s got to be modern.”
“Definitely!” Jasmine giggled. “I was thinking cowboy boots and yellow roses.”
“Been there, done that.” I grinned. “The first wedding I ever coordinated was a country-western one.”
“So why not go back to where you started?” she said. “Take the country theme and shabby chic it up a little. Have fun with it.”
Have fun with it. I rarely heard those words anymore. With so much on my plate—weddings, kids, house-related stuff, family drama—who had time to think about fun?
We continued our conversation and I found myself getting more and more excited about my big day. And I almost—stress almost—forgot about the scuttlebutt with the mayor. Maybe this day was looking up after all. One could hope, anyway.
I ended my meeting with the twins around two o’clock and headed home. Between the mayor’s visit to the wedding facility and the chaos with Jasmine and Lily, I’d had a full day. Getting home to my babies would make everything better.
Or not.
I arrived to find out that Tres and Bubba Jr. had somehow broken one of Earline’s most prized figurines, one passed down from her grandmother. Jenna made profuse apologies, but I stopped her midsentence with, “Girl, it?
??s not your fault. That pirate sword has to go.”
Jenna hung around long enough to hear about my day before heading out to spend time with Bubba. She frowned and promised to pray when I told her the story about the mayor. I knew I could count on her for that.
Just as I tucked the kids in for a nap, D.J. arrived home, much sooner than I’d expected. I’d seen my honey upset before, but not like this. Judging from the look on his face, something must’ve gone terribly wrong.
“D.J., what is it?”
“It’s that Clayton Deets, editor at the Splendora Gazette.”
Ooh, a name I knew well. The mayor’s nephew.
“He did a write-up about the wedding facility,” D.J. said. “Just saw the paper a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, good! We need all of the promo we can get.”
“No, you don’t understand, Bella.” My husband turned to face me, his brow knotted in obvious concern. “It’s not a good piece. He tore us to shreds. Said that we’re destroying a piece of the town’s history by renovating the old community center. Accused us of being insensitive to the needs of our neighbors by making racket. That’s ludicrous, by the way. There are no homes within half a mile of the wedding facility, so I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about.”
I shook my head, unable to speak. And to think, D.J. didn’t even know about the mayor’s visit . . . yet.
My honey raked his fingers through his hair. “Thing is, I’ve known Clayton for years. He was just a snot-nosed kid when I was in high school. We called him a hanger-on-er because we couldn’t shake him. Maybe he went through rejection or something, but he’s acting like he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just scared of his uncle. This article sounds like something the mayor would’ve come up with, not Clayton.”
I took the newspaper from his hand and scanned the article, my heart sinking to my toes. I hated to do it, but I must tell D.J. about my visit with Mayor Deets.
And so I did. I told him every icky word. And if I thought my sweet cowboy looked worked up before that conversation, he appeared ready to blow a gasket after. He paced the small living room and muttered under his breath, but I couldn’t make much sense out of what he said because he paused every few words to let out a grunt.
“What are we going to do, D.J.?” I asked when he finally stopped pacing.
“I don’t know. I say we keep going until they force us to stop. But we’ll do the work on the inside, not the outside. For now, I’ll just get my guys to work on the things the mayor can’t see until we get those bylaws in our hands. Knowing Clayton it’ll be days—maybe weeks—before that website is up and running. This is a diversion tactic.”
“But the outside is a wreck, and it’s the first thing brides will see when they drive up. It’s got to be beautiful.”
“It will be, Bella. I’m sure we’ll win the right to do what we need to do. No doubt Mayor Deets is planning to run for reelection and needs something to solidify the people, but I know the fine folks of Splendora, and they’ll back us on this. Most are scared of him, but I don’t know why. He’s an old coot who’s tried to run this town for years, and the people are ready to boot him.”
Should I tell D.J. that Twila was considering a run for mayor? No, judging from the expression on his face, my husband had enough on his mind. He didn’t need to know that our glittery PR director might soon be Splendora’s new mayor. I’d save that news for another day. In the meantime, I had to keep moving forward, even though it looked as if we’d just taken two giant steps backward.
10
Golden Ring
The night I announced I was getting married, Daddy paced for hours on the porch.
Loretta Lynn
Later that afternoon I put in a call to the sitcom producer. I could tell he was disappointed by my news, but he seemed to cheer up when I suggested Mama join the team. By the end of the conversation, I’d convinced him she knew more—and cared more—about the island than anyone in the family and would be the perfect choice to serve in an advisory position. He agreed wholeheartedly.
That night D.J. and I talked about it at length as we settled into bed. I could sense his relief that I’d opted out of the sitcom position.
“Proud of you, Bella,” he said. “I know that was a tough choice.”
“Not as tough as you might think. I’ve got so much on my plate already.”
“True.”
“Besides, Mama’s going to be a perfect fit,” I said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of her in the first place. It doesn’t always have to be me doing all the work, I guess.”
“True again.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “And it only took you how many years to figure this out?”
“Too many.” I laughed.
He nodded and then shifted the conversation to talk about Tres’s birthday this coming weekend. In all of the chaos, I’d almost forgotten that my son was about to turn five. We’d signed him up for kindergarten, and classes would begin soon. I could hardly believe my little boy was growing up so fast. Still, D.J.’s suggestion that we host a party here—in Splendora—threw me for a loop. How could we pull off a party in a week? But what other choice did we have?
“It’s his fifth birthday, Bella.” D.J. reached over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. “We need to do something special.”
“Well, of course.” I did my best to get the dog settled at the foot of the bed. Precious couldn’t seem to figure out what to do in this new-to-her place. She finally calmed down and plopped onto my feet.
“It just makes more sense to host the party here since this is where we’re living. You know?”
“I guess. I just always figured we’d have his party at my parents’ house. That’s where we have all of our big events. I wanted this to be really special.” I wiggled my feet a bit to shift the dog over, and the little monster did that low growl in the back of the throat thing. “Can’t believe I let so much time slip by.”
“He’ll never know the difference as long as we give him a party to remember, and we can do that, even with our time constraints.”
“And make it great?”
“Sure. We can plan an outdoor picnic thing. Maybe a cowboy theme with a campfire? Hot dogs?”
“Sounds dangerous with so many little kids, D.J. And he’s really into pirates right now. I was thinking of a Neverland party.”
D.J. shrugged. “Well, hear me out first, okay? I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea. If we stick with the cowboy theme, I’d like to make it really special. Build out some old storefronts. Make it look like an old Western ghost town. Something like that.”
It wouldn’t take much to make the yard behind the double-wide look like a ghost town. The two existing buildings—a shed and an old stable—looked pretty haunted already. Then again, with D.J. at the helm, we probably would end up with a cool-looking ghost town. I settled against the pillows and listened as my husband’s animated voice filled the room.
D.J. lit into an excited conversation about all of the activities at the party, everything from mining for gold—Really? Behind a double-wide?—to stick-horse races to fake handlebar mustaches for the kids. By the time he finished, I could almost see it in my mind’s eye. Of course, I’d have to call on Scarlet for a cake. Something with a Western theme. And we’d have to use bandana print on everything. But all in a week? I sighed as I thought it through. Everything in my life whirled by at a rapid pace these days. Could I slow down long enough to enjoy my son’s birthday?
“I want you to rest, Bella. Let me take this, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, yeah. I could use some help from the locals, though. I’ve been thinking that Jasmine could make up some sort of candy or cookies to look like cowboy boots. What do you think of that?” Off he went again, talking about the things that cowboys loved. The lilt in my husband’s voice as he talked about this cowboy-themed birthday party made me wonder if perhaps he might enjoy it even more than the kids.
> “We’ll make Tres the sheriff,” D.J. continued. “That’s a given.”
“Of Splendora?” I asked.
“Sure. Why not? He’s the birthday boy, after all. We’ll put him in charge of keeping order in the town for the day. He can wear a badge and a hat.”
“Can he whip the mayor?” I chuckled. “That might come in handy.”
“Maybe.” D.J. laughed.
I considered all that my husband had suggested. It sounded great, and yet . . . “D.J., I hate to state the obvious, but when are we going to have time to come up with a plan for all of this?”
“Don’t you fret your pretty little head over all that,” he said. “You rest. Let me plan the cowboy birthday.”
“But . . .” How could I say this without hurting his feelings? I always planned the parties. The weddings. The showers. The . . . well, the everything. Relinquishing control to D.J. would be tough. Very, very tough. “I just don’t know how we’re going to handle all of the details,” I finally said.
“I’ve already thought of that.” He yawned and rolled over in the bed. “We’ll make a whole weekend out of it. We’ll invite your family to come up to Splendora for a couple of nights so no one feels rushed.”
“Wait . . . come here to stay overnight? Where will they sleep? There’s no room in this double-wide for my huge family.”
“There’s a Motel 6 in Cleveland, just a few miles up the road.” D.J. yawned again, his voice now sounding groggier than before.
“Motel 6?” I tried to envision my mother staying in the Motel 6, but couldn’t picture it.
Seconds later my hubby’s gentle snore clued me in to the fact that he’d dozed off. No doubt he was dreaming up a plan for the ghost town. I needed to get some sleep myself. Tomorrow would be another busy day. I closed my eyes and counted sheep. Well, not sheep, exactly. I counted babies. Lots and lots of babies. And they all looked just alike.
A short time later, I awoke with a start. I jolted upright in the bed, which must’ve scared the dog, because she started yapping. I shushed her, still trying to get my bearings.