Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel

  “I hope so.” She released a breath. “Oh, and before I forget to tell you, Brock called today. He said the Daily is going to run a piece on him tomorrow. About the parade, not the wedding. So it’s okay to let people know he’s coming, just don’t tell them he’s also going to be in Sierra’s wedding, okay?”

  “Really?”

  My mother would be ecstatic. I could hardly wait to tell her.

  I heard Guido squawking in the background, and Bella groaned. “Hannah, I have to go. I’m not sure you would believe what Guido just did. I’ve got a mess to clean up. But bring me those papers. I’ll look over them and we can talk. Okay?”

  “I’m on my way. Be there in a few minutes.”

  I ended the call with Bella, faced Drew, and raised my fist, a mighty warrior. “Okay, here goes nothin’.”

  “Don’t say that.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Where two or more are gathered . . .”

  I knew the reference, of course. The Scripture about power in agreement. Well, amen to that.

  “Here goes somethin’.” I grinned.

  Drew gave me a final kiss, then sent me on my way after I promised to call him as soon as I left Bella’s. As I drove, a mixture of emotions swept over me—bliss at the very idea of Drew’s kisses, and smidgeons of fear as I anticipated seeing Bella face-to-face.

  I arrived at Club Wed to find her feeding Guido. Well, feeding Guido, taking care of a toddler’s tantrum, and entertaining the three Splendora sisters, who, it turned out, were back on the island to rehearse for their upcoming gig at Dickens on the Strand. Great. How could I talk to her about something so important with so many people around?

  The parrot went into his machine-gun spiel and scared the daylights out of me. This got a nervous laugh out of the Splendora sisters, who were apparently more versed in parrot than me. Twila shook her finger at him and recited the opening of a Scripture: “May the words of my mouth . . .”

  “Be acceptable,” Guido finished, then squawked.

  “Wow. He’s something else,” I managed.

  “Don’t I know it. Sorry about his erratic behavior. I think he’s just picking up on my nerves today.” Bella sighed, then scolded the bird, waggling her finger in his face. “Guido, mind your manners.”

  “Guido, mind your manners,” he echoed, then began to trill “Amazing Grace.” In perfect pitch, no less.

  Bonnie Sue’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out to stroke the bird’s back. “I don’t think it has anything to do with you, Bella. Poor Guido’s just missing Sallie so much.” She choked out the next words. “I miss my Sallie so much.”

  The women gathered around her for a sympathetic hug and several well wishes.

  “Bonnie Sue and Sal were only married a couple of years before he passed,” Bella explained. “Took quite a toll . . . on Guido and Bonnie Sue.”

  No doubt. This put things in a whole new light.

  I drew a bit closer. The parrot leaned forward and nuzzled my cheek, then gave me a peck on the cheek.

  “Sure seems like we go through a lot in this life.” Bonnie Sue dabbed at her eyes. “But I know God’s got a plan for me, so I try not to fret.”

  “Troubles come and troubles go,” Jolene threw in, “but we learn to stand strong in spite of them.”

  Standing strong. Sounded mighty good, especially in light of the strained look on Bella’s face. I wondered if she would ask me to come back at a later time, all things considered, but she did not. Instead, she invited all of us into her office, where she asked the ladies to keep our conversation confidential.

  Without giving away names or major details, Bella shared what we were facing. Twila took to fanning herself the moment the word lawyers came up. For that matter, I did too. The idea of battling Sierra’s attorneys made me feel sick inside. Why did I feel like such a coward without Drew’s arms around me?

  After hearing the twisted tale, Bonnie Sue rose and paced the small office. She didn’t say anything for a moment. Turning our way, she finally spoke her mind. “The key is to follow wholeheartedly after God and to listen to his voice. And I believe you have done that, Hannah. You haven’t compromised your principles, and God will honor that. Watch and see.”

  “Thank you.” I appreciated her vote of support. I felt a wave of confidence stiffen my backbone.

  “I always say we should give God what’s right, not what’s left,” Jolene said. “You’ve given him what’s right. Now if we can just convince those folks of that.”

  “And with confidence, no less,” Bonnie Sue added.

  “That’s the easy part, actually.” Jolene reached over and put her hand on my arm. “Just look those folks in the eye and remember one of my favorite Scriptures: ‘Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.’”

  “Oh, I know that one,” Twila chimed in. “It’s from one of my favorite Bible stories, the story of Joshua.” She reached for her purse and came out with her cell phone. “Hang on a minute. I’ve got a Bible app on my phone. Perfect for moments like these.”

  “Are you talking about the story of Jericho?” I asked. “The one I learned in Sunday school as a kid?”

  “Well, there is that. But the one I wanted to tell you about was Joshua’s battle at a place called Ai.” Twila thumbed around on her phone until she found what she was looking for.

  “Ai? Never heard of that one.”

  “Yep.” Twila’s voice rose in intensity. “See, Joshua and his mighty men had already taken Jericho. But they ran into trouble at the next battle up in Ai. Looked for a while there like they weren’t gonna be able to take those suckers down, but they won in the end. Want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because God told Joshua to see himself as being victorious, even before the battle was won. Reminded him to look back at the battle he’d already won in Jericho so his confidence would be boosted. There’s something about remembering your former victories that will stiffen your backbone.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? Problem is, we don’t always see ourselves as victors. We give in to defeat before we even give things a chance. We forget the battles we’ve already won in the past. Fear nabs us and holds us captive.”

  How many times had I let that happen?

  Twila fumbled around on her phone again, finally smiling as she found the right verse. “God said to Joshua, ‘You’re gonna go on over there and do to Ai what you done did to Jericho.’ He said, ‘Fear not. Don’t get the willies. Stiffen up yer backbone. Why? Because I’m gonna be with you.’” Twila paced the room, now preaching in a full voice. “‘And don’t you go worryin’ about those fellas on the other side of the hill. I know they look like a mighty army, but greater are those who are with us than those who are against us. They won’t be takin’ us down anytime soon.’”

  “Roughly translated, of course,” Bonnie Sue said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Twila pulled her arm back as if holding a weapon. “Joshua set his sights on the battle and pointed his spear toward that enemy.”

  “Are you sure he wasn’t Irish?” I put my hands up and laughed. “Kidding, kidding.”

  “Pretty sure he was a Hebrew boy.” Twila scratched her head. “But he didn’t give up. That’s the point. The fight stayed in him till the very end.”

  “He’s soundin’ more ’n’ more like a good Oirish boy to me,” I countered, my brogue intact. “If it’s true, he fought till the end.”

  “Oh, he did, all right.” Twila grinned. “Sure, he got scared. We all get scared. But God reminded him of the victories his people had already won in the past. There’s something pretty exciting about knowing we’ve already been victorious once. Beefs us up for the next battle.”

  Well, amen to that!

  “Promise me this, Hannah.” She leaned forward and put her hands on my shoulders, gazing intently into my eyes. “Promise you’ll not give in to defeat so easily from now on. Doesn’t matt
er what your ancestors did or didn’t do. Doesn’t even matter what your parents or sisters do. You can make up your mind not to be defeated, even when you feel surrounded on every side. Change starts here.” She pointed to her heart.

  “And here.” Bonnie Sue pointed to her head. At least I think it was her head and not her bouffant hairdo.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  Suddenly I felt ten feet tall. No longer David facing the mighty Goliath, I saw myself as Joshua standing before the town of Ai. Okay, the town of Galveston. And instead of a spear, I held a digital camera. Still, the analogy held true in most every regard. It also gave me courage like I’d never felt before.

  I glanced over at Bella, who had tears in her eyes. “I told you these ladies were something else,” she said.

  Indeed. No argument there. Any preconceived ideas I’d had about them were now gone, replaced by joy that they cared enough about me to share their hearts.

  “Now we’re gonna do what the Bible says we should,” Twila said. “It’s what we always do when we’re up against a mighty army. We band together and pray. Where two or more are gathered together, there’s power to knock your enemy’s head off.”

  “Roughly translated,” Bonnie Sue said with a wink. “But you get the idea.”

  I certainly did, and all the more as Twila began to pray. In my twenty-six years of living, I had never heard a woman pray the house down the way that woman did. She prayed with the energy and effervescence of an evangelist leading a sinner down the path toward home. Power laced each word—not a hyped-up, made-for-TV power, but true God-breathed energy.

  I couldn’t speak for Twila, but I was exhausted when her prayer ended. Well, exhausted and electrified. I couldn’t remember ever feeling more spiritually charged. Jolene called it a Holy Ghost hangover, and I had to agree.

  In that hazy state, I received a hug from Bella, along with her assurance that she would back me up all the way to the lawyer’s office if need be. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did, we were, as Twila called it, “prayed up and ready.”

  I thought about the story of Joshua all the way back to the studio. It stayed with me as I worked and invigorated me for the journey ahead. Who cared if I faced a huge battle? I’d won many in the past, hadn’t I? Hadn’t the Lord already brought me this far?

  Greater are those who are with us than those who are against us. Twila’s words raced through my brain, bolstering my newfound confidence.

  Change was coming to every area of my life. I could feel it—in the way I walked, the way I talked, the way I held myself. Yes, change was in the air. In my love life. My occupation. My attitude.

  My first order of business when I reached the studio? To call Drew and fill him in. My second order of business? To shut down early and head home in time to help Mama cook dinner. Boy, would she be surprised to see me home so early, and loaded with great stories to boot.

  I arrived at the house to find I wasn’t the only one who’d received the memo to make some changes. I found my mother in the kitchen, cooking—of all things—ravioli. Her hair, usually salt-and-pepper, straight-cut at the shoulders, was now the prettiest shade of auburn I’d ever seen. I couldn’t quite get over the difference in her appearance. She looked a good ten years younger.

  “Mama?” I drew near and smiled, giddy with delight over what she’d done.

  Her hands trembled as she reached up to swipe a loose hair out of her face. “What do you think your father is going to say? You know how much he hates change.”

  “Surely he will like this.”

  “Well, do what you can to distract him when he comes in, okay? I’d like to put this off as long as possible.”

  “Okay.” I gave her the Reader’s Digest version of my day, then headed into the living room to await my father’s arrival. I flipped on the news, got his newspaper ready, and fluffed the pillow on his recliner.

  Strangely, six o’clock rolled around and he still hadn’t shown up. A few minutes later I could hear the pots and pans in the kitchen, but still no sign of Dad. It just wasn’t like him to arrive home late on a weeknight. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time it’d happened.

  Dad buzzed through the front door at exactly ten minutes after six, looking winded.

  “Dad, you’re late.”

  “I, um, well, I stopped at the flower shop and picked up a little something.” From behind his back he pulled out a bouquet of roses, so vibrant and red that they took my breath away. “Think your mama will like ’em?”

  “Like them? She’s going to flip! What’s up? I didn’t forget your anniversary, did I?”

  “Nope. Just felt like getting the woman flowers. A man can get his wife flowers, can’t he?”

  Stop the world from spinning. I need to get off. Or at least check my compass to make sure I’m at the right house.

  My father—my very predictable father—had done something unpredictable?

  He put his finger to his lips and pointed to the kitchen. “I want to take these in to her before dinner and surprise her.” He gave me a wink, then headed to the kitchen.

  I’d just started to give him a heads-up related to Mama’s new hairdo, but then decided to let him find out on his own.

  Dad entered the kitchen, singing “Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral” at the top of his lungs. For a moment, anyway. Just as quickly, he paused and stared at Mama, who turned toward us, a terrified look on her face.

  His gaze never left my mother’s hair, but he couldn’t seem to speak. When he finally did, I hardly recognized his voice.

  “M-Marie?” His voice cracked. “Is that you?”

  Mama’s face flamed, and suddenly, standing there with her auburn hair and pink cheeks, she looked twenty years younger. “It’s me, Michael.” Her eyelashes took to fluttering, and for the first time I noticed she was wearing mascara. “I, well, I . . .”

  “Your hair.” Just two words, but they spoke volumes. For that matter, so did the stunned look on his face. I’d never seen my father so perplexed. Or intrigued.

  “Yes, well, you see, I’ve been thinking about this awhile, Michael. You’re partial to my hair in its usual state, I know. But every time I looked in the mirror, I felt . . . old. I was ready for a change, honey.” She brushed her hands against her apron and shrugged. “You know?”

  “Well, you could’ve knocked me over with a shamrock.” He kept staring. “Not quite sure what to do here.”

  “You could give me those flowers to start with.” Mama giggled as she stretched out her hands. “I’m assuming they’re for me?”

  “They are.” He took several slow steps in her direction and passed them off. She blushed all over again, and he leaned down to give her a little kiss on the cheek. “Not completely sure I’m kissing the right woman. Hardly recognize you. Still, I suppose someone will clue me in if I’ve got the wrong gal. I’m pretty sure the Bible frowns on me kissing someone other than my wife.”

  “Oh, you’ve got the right gal, all right.” Mama sniffed the beautiful roses, her face just as red as they were. “I’m definitely your wife. Same as always.”

  “Hardly.” He scratched his head as he gave her another look. “Well, you’ve put me in a real pickle here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. How in the world am I supposed to remember your birthday when you’re looking younger by the minute?”

  That got a chuckle out of her, and soon my parents were kissing and giggling. I backed out of the room to give them some privacy.

  I thought back to that precious moment in Drew’s studio when he’d first pulled me into his arms. How strong I’d felt. That same feeling of strength had washed over me afresh when Twila and the other Splendora sisters prayed with me. And now, as I watched my parents embrace, I realized the truth: there really is strength in numbers. No matter what I faced in this life, I could handle it with the people I loved surrounding me.

  20

  Don’t Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes

  May
you have the hindsight to know where you’ve been,

  The foresight to know where you’re going,

  And the insight to know when you’re going too far.

  Irish proverb

  With my parents lip-locked, I headed upstairs, realizing we wouldn’t be having dinner anytime soon. I threw myself on the bed, my thoughts fully on the events of the day. Strange how one day could change everything. Not that I minded. Oh no. Change was good. Very good.

  The smell of garlic permeated the whole house. Very odd, indeed. I could hardly wait for dinner. Still, as Bing Crosby crooned “Embraceable You” from the stereo downstairs, I knew better than to interrupt my parents, whose laughter and jovial conversation wafted up the stairway from the kitchen below. Heaven only knew what I might walk in on.

  Sometime around 6:20 the doorbell rang. I sprinted down the stairs and swung the door open, thrilled to find Drew on the other side.

  “Well, hello,” I said. I couldn’t help the smile that followed. Something about the boy just made me giddy.

  “Hello to you too.” His grin clued me in to the fact that he was happy to see me too. “I probably should’ve called first.”

  “Don’t be silly.” My mother’s voice rang out from behind me. “You’re always welcome, Drew.” She gestured for him to step inside.

  Drew raked his fingers through his hair, a sheepish look on his face. “I hope you don’t mind, but Mom asked me to stop by and get her Crock-Pot.”

  Sure she did. Silly boy.

  “Of course, of course.” My mother ushered him inside. “Would you like to stay and have dinner with us?” Her eyes twinkled. “I did the unthinkable. I made ravioli.”

  “Really?” He looked stunned at this news. As he drew in a breath, I could see a “gosh, that smells great” expression on his face. Still, he didn’t offer to stay.

  “I know, I know.” A smile lit her face. “But don’t you fret. Michael already knows and he’s fine with it, so there won’t be a scene. In fact, I think he might even learn to like it. Hope so, anyway.”