“What is it, Dad? You’re up to something.”
He glanced toward the kitchen, then back at me. “Just pretending to be upset with your mother. That whole eleven o’clock service thing did throw me a little, but I’ve been working on a top-secret project. You two might as well know because I’ll probably need some help from both of you when the time comes.”
“Top secret?” Drew asked.
“Yep. Stick around for the big reveal at Christmastime.” Dad rubbed his extended belly. “Hey, and by the way, I love chicken chow mein. I’ve been eating Chinese food for years, just never told your mama because I thought she didn’t like it.”
“No way.”
“Yep. At the lodge. We order takeout every month. And that whole spiel about not liking change was just a bunch of blarney. Truth be told, I’m giving thought to getting hair plugs. What do you think?”
“Th-that’s your surprise?” I managed.
“Nah. The surprise is for your mother. The hair plugs are for me. Vanity is setting in, I guess.”
“I’m pretty sure she’d be very surprised if you turned up with hair plugs, Dad. And just for the record, I like your current look.”
“Now who’s opposed to change?” He narrowed his gaze and then laughed.
A quick glance at my watch clued me in to the fact that we were going to be late to church if we didn’t hit the road. Drew and I said our goodbyes to my parents and made the trip, laughing and talking about my parents and trying to guess my dad’s big secret.
After attending the early service, we drove back to Club Wed for the wedding of a lifetime. Several times along the way, I ushered up a prayer of thanks for the opportunity to shoot this wedding. Strange how my life had changed over the past few months. I’d been given every opportunity a girl could ask for . . . and hadn’t spent much time botching them. Grandpa Aengus would’ve been proud. Suddenly I got a little misty thinking of him.
“Do you think the media has caught on to the fact that the wedding is today?” Drew asked, drawing me back around to the task at hand.
“I didn’t have a chance to look at the paper this morning, so I don’t know. I think Sierra was pretty smart scheduling it on a Sunday afternoon. Not many people would expect that.”
“True. But I did see on the morning news that she was spotted at Dickens yesterday.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. So don’t be surprised if reporters figure it out.”
Arriving at Club Wed well ahead of schedule, I sent Drew to check the lighting in the chapel while I headed to the reception hall to see the layout. Bella had given me a sketch of what the room would look like, but seeing it in person was critical.
“Wow.” I stared at the gorgeous room, amazed at the transformation.
The tables—dozens of them—were fully decked out in a great Texas-meets-Nashville theme. Very country. Perfect for Sierra, and great for me too. The vivid colors were a photographer’s dream. I caught several photos of the room in its current state, then went in search of Bella. I found her on the far end of the reception hall, helping Rosa set up the cake. I also found my best friend.
Scarlet turned to me with a smile. “Hey, Hannah.”
“Hey, yourself.” What are you doing here?
“I asked Scarlet to help me.” Rosa pointed to the cake, a fabulous multitiered number with yellow roses. “Her decorations are primo, no?” She indicated the amazing hand-designed music notes that covered the various tiers.
“Primo, yes.” I stared at the cake and gasped. “You . . . you did that?”
“Well, just the piping and music stuff. Rosa didn’t have time, what with Dickens and all. But she made the yellow roses. Aren’t they gorgeous?”
“They’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”
Rosa blushed. Then she and Scarlet went back to work centering the cake on the table and chattering like best friends.
Bella pulled me aside. “It’s such a blessing to have Scarlet here. We haven’t told anyone, but Rosa’s hand isn’t as steady as it once was. She’s great at baking, but the decorating and construction have been a problem for a while now. So I’m happy to see she’s got someone to call on.”
“Me too.” In fact, I felt like throwing a little party to celebrate. Only, we were already having a party, weren’t we?
“Have you seen Sierra yet?” Bella’s eyes sparkled.
“No.”
“She’s gorgeous. Go and see for yourself.”
I located her in the dressing room with her bridesmaids fussing over her hair and makeup. Perfect opportunity to snag some close-ups. When the time came for Sierra to put on her exquisitely beaded gown, I slipped into my comfort zone.
No matter what else happened around me, I could always count on a wedding to calm me down. Strange, I know. Most folks in the wedding biz came unnerved during the actual event, working at a frenzied pace to make sure every detail was in place. Not me. I actually came into my own on the wedding day. There, behind the eye of the camera, I was truly at peace. Nothing could touch me. I saw it all—the smiles, the tears, the wrinkles around the bride’s eyes.
Mental note: don’t forget to iron those out with Photoshop. Not because I had to, of course, but because it was the right thing to do.
Once I wrapped up in the dressing room, I went in search of Drew to make sure he’d caught some shots of the groom and groomsmen. He gave me a thumbs-up and then headed off to take a picture of the ring bearer.
I found the flower girl—Sierra’s littlest cousin—in the kitchen, sneaking a chocolate-covered strawberry out of the fridge. Perfect photo op. Minutes later, I saw the bride’s grandmother receiving her wrist corsage from the florist. Shortly thereafter, back in the dressing room, I watched as the father of the bride brushed away tears when he saw his daughter—beautiful, serene Sierra—in her wedding dress for the first time. I also happened to notice the rolled eyes from the maid of honor when one of the bridesmaids grumbled about the color of the dresses. I saw the little smudge on Sierra’s white cowgirl boots and even took in the uneven hem on the mother of the bride’s expensive dress.
There, through the one-eyed lens, I caught a glimpse of an alternate reality, one the bride never saw unless I captured it for her. And just as I’d told Dani, the reporter from Texas Bride, I chose my shots very carefully, only snagging the ones that would leave blissful memories for the bride and groom. One misstep and the happy day could be ruined for all.
With that in mind, I looked beyond the maid of honor’s eye rolling and straight to the bride, who gazed in wonder at her reflection in the mirror. I saw the joy in her father’s eyes and could almost read his thoughts: Is this my little girl all grown up?
The photos that I snagged told the whole story. With uncanny precision, I captured the shots that mattered. And I caught them all with the confidence and speed of an expert.
Expert . . .
For whatever reason, the word made me think of Drew. I found him just outside the chapel, a smile on his face as he caught a random shot of the flower girl sticking her tongue out at the ring bearer. I felt sure he’d managed to snag a shot of the groom’s mother arguing with the caterer too. Just for fun, of course.
“You’re going to love this one wacky shot I got of David and his groomsmen.” Drew chuckled. “And you’re never going to believe what they’ve got planned for the kiss.”
“Oh?”
“Can’t tell. Promised I wouldn’t. Just be ready, okay? You get the shot of the bride and groom kissing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Okay.”
Minutes later, the country-western-themed wedding got under way, familiar twangy tunes ringing out as the various members of the wedding party were ushered to the front of the chapel. I slipped into the perfect spot to capture the moment when Sierra’s father lifted her veil, and even got a couple of perfectly lit shots of the unity candle. By the time the vows were shared, I had tears in my eyes. Brushing them aside, I focused on the bride and
groom. I didn’t want to miss the pivotal moment—the kiss.
Thank goodness Drew had warned me. When the “I do’s” were spoken, when it came time for that once-in-a-lifetime shot of the bride and groom sealing the deal with a lengthy smooch, the groomsmen all lifted scorecards rating the kiss. Everything from a 9.5 to a 10.0. I didn’t have time to focus on the guys, though. My shots were of the bride and groom lip-locked. Drew caught the rest. I heard the clicking of his camera through the laughter and cheers of the crowd. I’d never been happier to have someone working alongside me.
At some point during the wedding reception, my aching feet forced me to sit down. I found a spot at a table near the back of the room. Drew joined me, a smile on his face. He handed me a plate with a large piece of cake on it, and I took a bite, my eyes rolling back in contentment.
“I like a girl who likes her cake.”
“Then you’ve got the right girl, trust me.”
“Oh, I’ve got the right girl, all right.” He leaned over and gave me a little kiss on the cheek.
I heard someone nearby clear his throat. Looking up, I noticed Bella’s brother Armando standing nearby with a video camera in hand.
“I, um, I’m supposed to be getting marriage advice for the bride and groom. Thought maybe you two might have something to share.”
I paused, deep in thought. After a moment I snapped my fingers. “I know.” Turning to the camera, I said, “The Bible says you shouldn’t go to bed angry.” I chuckled. “So, stay up all night and fight it out. That’s my advice.”
This got a laugh out of Armando, who eventually got control of himself and turned the camera to Drew. I could hardly wait to hear what juicy tidbit he might come up with.
After a moment, he finally spoke. “I guess I would say, don’t get distracted by what’s in your peripheral vision.”
“Peripheral vision?” Armando shifted his position. “What do you mean?”
“As a photographer, when you’re focused, you’ll occasionally catch those once-in-a-lifetime shots, the ones that take your breath away. The same is true with a good marriage. The two of you as a couple have to stay focused on God. You can’t let the stuff on the fringes throw you off course or you’ll miss great kairos moments. You know, those ‘wow, God brought me to this time and this place so that I could learn this lesson’ moments.”
Armando nodded as he pulled the camera down, then muttered, “Thanks, guys,” as he moved on.
I turned to face Drew, suddenly having my own special kairos moment. As he swept me into his arms for a kiss sweeter than Rosa’s Italian cream cake, I realized the truth. Everything I’d learned over the past few months, everything I’d been given—from my business to this man in my arms—was a gift from God.
Now I simply had to keep my focus on the One who’d given them to me in the first place.
25
You Keep Coming Back Like a Song
Health and long life to you,
Land without rent to you,
The partner of your heart to you.
And when you die, may your bones rest in Ireland!
Irish blessing
On the Tuesday morning after Sierra’s wedding, I received a phone call from Bella, who bubbled over with excitement. “Hannah, that was the best wedding ever. How can I thank you?”
“Me?” I laughed. “Girl, I should be thanking you. I had the time of my life.”
“Same here. It was so sad to see Brock and Erin go. Did you know that they used our reception hall to practice his dance routines for last night’s show?”
“No way.”
“Yeah. Late Saturday night after the rehearsal dinner. He didn’t want anyone to know, but they flew his dance partner down to practice with him.”
“You’re serious? Cheryl was here?”
“Yep. She stayed at the Tremont. In fact, they all flew together back out to L.A. late Sunday night.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. But Brock was plenty nervous about his dances for last night’s show, trust me. They haven’t had as much time as usual to prepare.”
“We watched it. I thought he did a great job.”
“Me too. Man, there’s something about watching people dance that just lights a fire under me.” Bella paused, and I could hear the baby crying in the background. “Hey, speaking of which, that’s the real reason for my call. We’re planning a feast tonight to celebrate the finale of Dancing with the Stars. Rosa and Mama wanted me to call and invite your family. And Drew and his mother too. Oh, and Scarlet. Rosa likes her a lot.”
“Really? All of us for dinner?” I could hardly imagine the chaos that might ensue, but it certainly held some appeal.
“Yes.” Bella murmured to the baby, who continued to fuss. “And just so you know . . .” She now spoke over the baby’s whimpers. “It’s going to be a real party. D.J.’s parents are coming. So are the Splendora sisters and their husbands.”
“Sounds like a blast.” A loud, crazy, chaotic blast.
“I know, right? We’ll record the show and watch it after we eat. That way we can take our time. What do you think?”
“I think it sounds like the best idea in the world. Hope my dad will play along.”
“Me too. Six o’clock okay?”
The baby’s whimpers now turned to full-fledged screams. This seemed to upset Guido. I could hear him in the background, making his machine-gun noise. Bella offered up a rushed goodbye, and the call ended.
Now, to talk my parents into this.
Convincing my mother to go to the Rossis’ house for the finale of Dancing with the Stars was a piece of cake. My dad, however, put up a real fuss.
“Now look, Hannah,” he grumbled. “I’ve gone along with these crazy new ideas of your mother’s. I’ve eaten strange foods, watched strange television shows, and met some strange—er, interesting—folks. But Tuesday nights I always watch the Biography Channel. You know that.”
“Come with us, Dad,” I said with a wink. “You’ll get to know some characters worthy of their own show on the Biography Channel.”
He sighed, but when the time came, he trudged out to the car and joined us for the ride to the Rossi home. As we drove, my mother shared her ideas on an upcoming vacation spot. I thought my father would croak when she mentioned Grand Cayman. The man never left Galveston Island.
At ten minutes till six we arrived at Bella’s parents’ home. Most of the others were already there. The delicious aroma of lasagna greeted us, along with the yummy scent of Rosa’s garlic twists. By 6:40, we’d gathered around the table—actually, tables, since it took three large tables to accommodate everyone—where we enjoyed the meal of a lifetime. To my right, Drew dove into his lasagna. His mama chatted with the other ladies, especially Bella’s mother. Turned out the two were friends from the Grand Opera Society. Go figure.
As I enjoyed my meal, I thought about that day when I’d eaten at Bella’s house the first time. My, what a difference a few months could make. That day, Drew Kincaid had been my archnemesis, my Jacquie Goldfarb. Today—I smiled as I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye—he was the man who made me happier than the tiramisu Rosa now served.
We enjoyed fun conversation over dessert, but I was itching to get to the television. After Brock’s stellar performance last night, I hoped—dreamed, even—that he would win. Watching him take that mirror ball trophy in hand would be the icing on the cake.
Speaking of cake, I had a second piece just for luck.
No, not luck. I’d already established that luck had nothing to do with it. I ate the cake simply because it was amazing.
By ten minutes after eight, the youngest children were sleeping in a bedroom upstairs and the rest of us had gathered, coffee in hand, in the living room around a huge plasma TV. Rosa stood in front of the television and offered up a prayer for Brock’s feet. None of us bothered to tell her that the show was recorded. Her prayers lagged behind the real-time event by over an hour, but she did
n’t need to know that.
Drew and I squeezed into a chair really meant for one. He didn’t seem to mind being so close. I cuddled up against him, happy to have his arm around me for this special night.
Watching my favorite show at Bella’s parents’ house was a little different from watching it at our home. For one thing, they commented on absolutely everything from the costumes to the guest stars, who provided music and entertainment. As the judges gave their comments, Rosa, Laz, and the others chimed in with their thoughts, often speaking so loudly that I couldn’t hear the judges. Still, I had a blast, watching it all take place and listening to the various opinions from those in the room.
Bella and D.J. laughed like hyenas during the funny bits before the dances, which were mostly a repeat of routines we’d already seen this season.
Twila wrung her hands. “I’m just so nervous for Brock.”
“Why is that?” Bella’s mother asked.
“He told me on Saturday that he was worried about having to repeat this dance because he stumbled the first time they did it. I think we should stop right here and pray for him.” Twila hit the Pause button on the remote and dove in, praying the house down in her Southern voice. Once again I bit back the temptation to explain that the show was recorded.
As the emotional “Amen!” sounded from Twila, Rosa hit Play. Seconds later, Brock took the floor, dancing a near-perfect jive.
“Now you see?” Twila clasped her hands together and let out a squeal. “That, my friends, is the power of prayer!”
Bonnie Sue and Jolene chimed in with a rousing “Amen, sister!” and we were back to the show once again.
The evening flew by at warp speed. When the moment finally arrived for the winner to be announced, you could’ve heard a pin drop in the room. I held my breath, feeling a little woozy. Only when a shout went up from all in attendance did I realize they’d actually called Brock’s name.
I looked on, heart in my throat, as the camera zoomed in on his face. In that moment I thought about my once-upon-a-time infatuation with the handsome superstar, the picture-perfect Brock Benson. How goofy it all seemed now. Not that any other woman in the country would blame me. Didn’t every girl dream of living her happily ever after with the perfect fella?