Swinging on a Star (14 page)

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Authors: Janice Thompson

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BOOK: Swinging on a Star
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“Right. I’ll be right back.” Marcella scurried outside, and I realized I still had some work to do myself. Time to get dressed! I raced across the yard, hoping I wouldn’t interrupt anything of importance at the house. Thankfully, I was able to sneak up the stairs without being noticed.

I ran into my room and grabbed the dress Mama and I had picked out weeks before at a costume shop on the mainland. The beautiful gown was an authentic medieval-style dress. I’d chosen a soft pink, hoping it would complement my skin tone. The rose-colored bodice was made of crushed velvet. I loved the crisscross ties that laced through the decorative button at the front. But my favorite part, by far, was the sleeves. They were chiffon and draped in a bell style. My only complaint? I couldn’t wear my boots. Bummer.

Glancing down at my feet, I rethought the proposition. Who would see my feet, anyway? I made a quick decision to slide them on. Ah. Much better.

With every hair and boot in place, I darted back down the stairs and across the lawn. I arrived at the back of the wedding facility in less than a minute, a world record.

Stepping back, I looked over the castle with its beautiful faux river. Exquisite, inside and out. Truly, with the exception of the round tables and their accompanying chairs, I felt like I’d stepped back in time several hundred years.

Marcella and I worked together getting the centerpieces in place and putting the rest of the flowers in the large walk-in refrigerator inside the wedding facility. When we finished, she helped me in a thousand other ways. God bless her!

Uncle Laz and Jenna arrived at 5:30, ready to set up the buffet area. They’d done most of the cooking in advance, but the serving dishes had to be put in place, and they were pretty meticulous about all of that, particularly when they’d never done a wedding of this sort.

Jenna rushed my way and gave me a warm hug. “You spent the night in jail!”

“I did.” No denying it.

“I wish I’d been there with you. It’s no fair. All the good stuff happens to you!”

“Are you serious?” I quirked a brow, and she laughed.

“Kidding! But still . . . I’ll bet you have tons of stories.”

“Enough to fill a couple of books,” I said. “But nothing we’re going to talk about today. Today it’s all about the bride!”

“Of course!”

Jenna fussed with tablecloths for the buffet tables and counted out silverware while Uncle Laz brought in loads and loads of food. Peering under the foil on a rectangular platter, I noticed the roasted quail. Yum. Looked very authentic. So did the beef, which they’d skewered. And those turkey legs! Though I’d argued with Rob about having them, they did smell amazing. I could almost envision the costumed guests walking around during the reception, turkey legs in hand. Very . . . authentic!

I knew Laz and Jenna’s work would continue as the wedding ceremony progressed. By the time the “I dos” had been said, everything would be ready. The fruits and cheeses would be beautifully displayed, providing the guests with an appetizer before the main event. Then the real festivities would begin.

But enough about the food. I needed to find the bride-to-be!

At 6:15 I stuck my head in the bride’s room to see how Marian was faring. I gasped when I saw the champagne-colored Juliet gown—hand-beaded crushed velvet with exquisite gold trim. I’d seen it on the hanger, of course, in all of its splendor. But now, seeing it on the bride . . . well, there were no words to describe it. Or her. She simply radiated beauty, from her adorned hair to her tiny, corseted waist to those delicate cream-colored slippers.

Her ladies-in-waiting were doing the very things ladies-in-waiting were wont to do—fussing with her hair, touching up her makeup, and so forth. Off in the corner, Marian’s mother stood with camera in hand, flashing pictures and blubbering like a baby. Yep. Just your typical wedding thus far.

“Marian!” Stepping into the room, I approached with ginger steps. “You are by far the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I reached to touch one of the dainty faux pearls on the bottom of the flowing chiffon and lace sleeves. “You must feel like a princess. You certainly look like one.”

“Bella, you’re sweet.” She took my hand. “But I haven’t forgotten you run a wedding facility. You have to tell all of your brides that.”

“Maybe, but I’m not exaggerating here. You are, in fact, the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.” I gestured for her to turn around so I could see the veil. From the front it looked like a simple floral circlet, but the back revealed something altogether different. Flowing layers of chiffon cascaded down Marian’s back, trimmed off with some delicate beads.

“I still can’t believe I ordered this dress and veil from the Internet.” She sighed as she examined her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, Bella, I’ve known exactly what I wanted since I went to the Texas Renaissance Festival for the first time as a girl. I knew what the dress would look like. I knew what the bridesmaids would wear.” She reached to take her sister’s hand. “And I knew exactly what the ceremony would be like. The only problem was, I could never find someone to walk alongside me in all of that. Every other facility I tried said it couldn’t be done.”

“We called over a dozen facilities,” her mother said. “None of them would let her bring in a castle.”

“Oh, trust me, it wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but I love a challenge! And it’s worth it . . . for you. Besides, I live for this sort of thing. You know that.”

“I do now. And I’m so grateful.” Her eyes filled with tears, threatening to destroy her perfect makeup job. “You were the only one who took me seriously. And now look where we are.”

“Yes, now look. So what is it about a medieval wedding that felt right to you?” I asked her. “Why did you decide to go this route?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Marian’s eyes lit up. “The costumes are glorious. Breathtaking. And the trumpet fanfare, the carriage procession, the sword arch for the bride, the ribbon circlets . . . Oh, Bella, it’s any girl’s dream. She dresses as a princess and walks the aisle—past people she loves— toward her prince. It’s Cinderella all over again, only there’s no wicked stepmother. And everyone gets to go to the ball, absolutely everyone.”

I glanced over at Marcella, who placed a flower garland atop one of the bridesmaid’s heads. “Bella, could you hand me a hairpin?” she asked.

“Of course.”

The dresses that the ladies-in-waiting wore were beautiful, in a soft shade of lavender with exquisite trim. But they didn’t compare to Juliet herself. No, I had truly never seen anything like our bride-to-be.

After I helped Marcella, I rushed to get Joey, who had taken on the role of photographer. He entered the room, took one look at Marian, and stopped with his mouth open. “Oh, wow.”

“I guess that’s good, then?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm.” He snapped a picture. “Kind of reminds me of that opera the other night. Seems like we’ve had a full-out Renaissance week.”

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” She smiled, then turned back to the mirror to check her makeup once more.

Glancing at my watch, I took note of the time: 6:30. “I noticed you have a few guests already.”

“My parents,” Marian said. “And Rob’s.”

“More than that. A handful of people just came in. They were costumed, by the way.”

She smiled. “I knew it! Probably half or more of the guests will be. Took some doing to convince my aunt Mildred, but I think she’ll go along with it. I hope.”

Somehow thinking about her aunt Mildred reminded me that I hadn’t checked up on the trio of sisters. After asking around, I was told—by Jenna, who was putting the finishing decorative touches on the buffet table—that they were in the kitchen, practicing their tunes.

I knew, of course, that Mama had been hard at work on Twila, Jolene, and Bonnie Sue. Mama, the makeup queen. I knew I could trust her. Still, I was half-terrified, half-intrigued to see what they looked like. Surely with my mother at the helm they wouldn’t go overboard.

When I entered the kitchen, I gasped. Truly they looked stunning. Twila wore a fabulous coral dress, completely appropriate to Renaissance times. Jolene—whose hair was absolutely perfect for the time period—looked stunning in royal purple. And the light blue really complemented Bonnie Sue’s eyes. They were like three plus-sized Barbie dolls in Renaissance attire. Only prettier.

“What do you think of my hair?” Jolene patted her ’do, and I nodded.

“Who did that?”

“Oh, I did.” Sophia appeared from around the corner with a smile on her face. “Didn’t take me long at all. I just looked up a couple of sites on the Internet and followed the instructions. Besides, when you have great hair to start with, it’s a breeze.”

Jolene beamed. “Oh, thank you, honey. Want to know the secret to my hair’s natural beauty?”

“Of course!” I said.

“It’s all about the product.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she whispered, “Mane and Tail. You buy it at the feed store. Makes the hair silky smooth.”

“And puts the giddyap and go in your day,” Bonnie Sue said with a giggle.

At this all the women got the giggles. Jolene finally got herself under control, claiming her bladder couldn’t take the excitement.

Seconds later Rob popped his head in the door. “Hey, Bella. I’ve been looking for you.”

I approached him with a smile. “Rob, I owe you. Marian doesn’t know that I got arrested.”

“And she won’t . . . till this is over. You should’ve seen the trouble the bridesmaids went through to keep her from the television and newspaper, though.”

“I’ll bet.” I gave him a hug.

“You know the story hit the national news, right?” Rob added. “My parents saw it on several major networks.”

I groaned. “Seriously, Rob. I’m so sorry all of this happened. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Don’t say anything. I saw the whole thing, Bella. Not your fault at all. And everything is moving forward according to plan, so I’m a happy man.”

“I’m glad.”

“I just wanted to ask about the fireworks. I know we planned to have them if the weather cooperated. Looks like it’s sunny and dry.”

“Right. There’s no sign of rain this evening. The storm has passed.”

As the words passed my lips, I breathed a sigh of relief. The storm really
had
passed, and not just the one in the gulf. I’d somehow made it through the planning of this wedding, the ordeal with Brock, and a night in jail. And I’d felt God’s presence in the very midst of it, so I could attest to the fact that there truly was an eye in the middle of life’s storms. No doubt about it.

But I didn’t have time to be philosophical right now—I had a wedding to get to. And quick!

31
Love and Marriage

At ten minutes till seven, we were ready to roll. I sent the bridal party out of the side door to prepare for their grand entrance, then made my way to the front of the facility, where I got my first glimpse of D.J. in his medieval attire.

I let out a whistle. “Man. You look like you hopped straight off a movie screen into real life. Only . . . better.”

“You think?” He turned, showing off the deep blue doublet and black leggings.

Yummy
.

He gestured for me to spin too. I did, feeling like a little girl at play as my gown swished around my ankles.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” D.J. drew me close and kissed my forehead. “And that dress is like something from a magazine.”

I felt my cheeks turn warm. “Thank you, kind sir.” I curtsied, overcome by a sense of giddiness. “You ready for tonight? Feel like playing a medieval deejay?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

We made our way through the throng of people, and my gaze shifted upward to the sunset. It was breathtaking—a real treat, especially after the storm. Good thing, because the entire crowd—guests, anyway—stood outside the front of the wedding facility, awaiting the arrival of the king and queen.

As trumpeters played a magnificent fanfare, the carriage procession began. I could see the first carriage coming our way from the south end of Broadway. Thankfully, the police escort kept any would-be onlookers at bay.

Wait a minute . . . police escort? I looked at the officer, stunned to find the same fellow who’d arrested me last night. Go figure.

“D.J., do you see who that is?” I whispered.

“Mm-hmm. I talked to him earlier. He’s really a pretty nice guy, Bella. I think you’ll like him once you get to know him.”

“Probably. If he ever forgives me for the way things went down.”

Oh well. No time to think about that right now.

The carriage paused at the end of the driveway, and Rob’s four groomsmen climbed out, dressed as knights, of course. Brock was the last one out of the carriage and created quite a stir with his arrival. His medieval attire really, truly made him look like a knight. And not just any knight—this was one worthy of the king’s presence.

I shifted my gaze to the next carriage. I already knew it would carry the bride’s ladies-in-waiting dressed for the night. One by one, the beautiful bridesmaids exited the carriage in their Renaissance gowns, greeting guests with hands extended. They were followed by a darling little flower girl, who made quite a production out of tossing the flower petals on the ground. Who could blame her? This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

Mama slipped into place behind me and whispered, “Bella, they look beautiful.”

“Don’t they?” I whispered back. “And what do you think of the carriages? Very fairy-tale-like, right?”

“Very. The whole thing is like something straight from a movie.” She gasped as Rob arrived, not in a carriage but on horseback. “Oh my goodness!”

The beautiful stallion was decked out in attire fitting for royalty. The groom tipped his feathered hat at his guests as he neared the grounds, then leaped from his horse, joining them for a few rowdy cheers and boisterous slaps on the back.

“Congratulations to the happy groom!” D.J. called out, using his best deejay voice.

The crowd went crazy, following his lead. All part of the fun, of course.

Finally, the moment we’d all been waiting for was upon us. Even Rob didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I did. Marian’s father had arranged for a Cinderella carriage drawn by four magnificent Clydesdales to bring the bride up Broadway. I could hear the
clip-clop
of their hooves as they rounded the side street less than a block away. The guests gasped as the coach drew near. Twinkling Christmas lights caused it to sparkle against a now-darkening sky. The timing was perfect, just as we’d hoped it would be.

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