Tea for Two (9 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Endless Love

You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.

Charles Bukowski

At five minutes after seven on the evening of Sunday, February 14
th
, I stood at the back of the Club Wed chapel and watched as our most famous bride made her entrance up the aisle. Okay, so I was framed on both sides by Secret Service guys, but they didn’t intimidate me or jar me from my current role as wedding coordinator. I kept a watchful eye on the bridal party, perfectly lined up at the front of the church, and got a little teary-eyed as Victoria’s father gave her away.

At this point I leaned against the wall, exhausted but energized as I watched every minute of the ceremony. Though last night’s rehearsal was a bit crazy, the groom missing most of it, everything came off without a hitch this time around. And even though the bride hadn’t had much time to give to the décor, the flowers, the columns, the tulle, the twinkling lights, or even the ornate candelabras, she seemed completely content in her surroundings.

Me? I thought the chapel looked prettier than I’d ever seen it. I’d never given thought to turning it into a Victorian picture-postcard, but the transformation left me breathless.

Turned out I wasn’t the only one who was breathless. The Secret Service guy to my right lunged forward to snatch a cell phone out of the hand of a woman attempting to take a photograph. Poor gal never saw it coming. She let out a gasp but willingly gave up the cell phone then clamped her lips together and turned to face the front of the chapel. Thank goodness few others noticed.

Wowza, these security guys took their job seriously.

I took mine seriously, too. At the very moment the reverend pronounced the couple husband and wife, I sprang into action. I opened the back doors of the chapel so that Mr. and Mrs. DeVine could pass through, and I gave Victoria the biggest smile in the world. . .which she returned. Before she kissed her husband. And kissed him again.

The kissing went on as the guests were ushered out of the chapel and directed to the reception hall for appetizers, which they would enjoy while the wedding party had photos taken. I quickly connected with the photographer, gave her a few last-minute instructions, then headed to the reception hall to make sure things there were running smoothly.

I entered to a full house. The caterers had already set out the appetizers and guests formed lines to fill their plates. Mama gave me a little wave from the kitchen door and I took a few steps in her direction, pausing only to glance at the soundboard where my brother and D.J. would soon take up residence.

Mama wiped her hands on her apron and gestured to Rosa and Laz, who couldn’t seem to remember that they didn’t need to be helping the caterers. “What do you think, Bella? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm. Looks heavenly. Very. . .Valentiney.”

“I think the bride will love it.”

“Honestly? I think the bride is so distracted by her husband’s decision not to run for president that she won’t notice. But the guests seem to be enjoying it, and that’s what matters.”

“Speaking of people dropping out of the race. . .” Mama gestured with her head to Uncle Laz, who now filled a teapot with hot water. “Did you hear?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“He’s decided to stop the shenanigans. No more signs in the front yard. No more posters at the restaurant. I think his decision had something to do with DeVine’s passionate speech at the rehearsal last night. It really got to him.”

“Wow, that was quick. Just a couple of hours ago he was trying to pin a
Laz for Prez
button on me.”

“I guess he came to his senses.” Mama shrugged. “Either that, or Rosa knocked some sense into him.”

I gave my uncle a sympathetic look. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think Laz would’ve made a great President. The country would’ve been well-fed, at any rate.”

“And I dare say Aunt Rosa would’ve made a great first lady.” Mama gave her sister a warm smile. “Though, to be honest, I don’t know how they could’ve handled it. They’re so busy already. Between their TV show, Parma Johns and all of the weddings, they’re overloaded.”

“Yeah, what’s up with all of that, anyway?” I asked. “I thought Laz was going to back away from Parma Johns and let Nick take over.”

“You really fell for that? Your uncle is a workaholic, Bella. Rosa wants him to slow down, but I think he thrives on it.”

Hmm. Well, I certainly understood what that was like.

I glanced over as D.J. and Armando took their places in the reception hall’s sound booth. My sweet hubby gave me a little wink and then got to work. A couple of minutes later I lined the wedding party up in perfect order just outside the reception hall door and when D.J. announced them they made their grand entrance, couple by couple. When it came time to announce Mr. and Mrs. DeVine, the crowd came alive with cheers. I couldn’t help but join in.

They took the time to greet their guests. In fact, I had a feeling it would be awhile before Victoria and Beau ate any of that fancy food the caterers had worked so hard on.

I looked on as they hugged and chatted with person after person. Mama joined me and let out a little whistle. “Man, that dress of hers is. . .wow.” She paused and shook her head. “Did Gabi make that dress? It’s remarkable!”

“Yes Ma’am. Custom-made. You don’t even want to know how much it cost.”

“Of course I do.”

“Let’s just say the lace is over a hundred years old, which is why it’s got a bit of an ivory cast. You’ll notice it’s got tiny medallions of hand crochet lace and inserts. Oh, and the pearls are real.” I paused to give the bride a closer look. “I just love how those sheer lace sleeves fall over her shoulder like that, and how they loop under the arms.”

“Yes. Really accentuates her hour-glass figure.”

“It’s lined in silk,” I said. “And would you believe there are over fifty buttons up the back? You don’t even want to know how long it took the bridesmaids to get them all buttoned.”

“Or how long it’s going to take Beau-Beau to
un
-button them.” Mama giggled.

“True.” I couldn’t help but laugh in response to that. “Do you see how the gown has a slight bustle in the back?”

“Gorgeous,” Mama said.

“From what I understand, that’s the only part of the gown Victoria wasn’t sure about. She was afraid it made her backside look big.”

“My goodness, if you want to see a large backside, I would be happy to demonstrate what a real one looks like.”

I looked over to see that Twila had joined us. “Um, no thank you,” I said. “But thanks for the offer.”

“I have to agree with your Mama,” Twila said. “The gown is lovely.”

“Everything is lovely,” Jolene added with a happy sigh.

“Even the Secret Servicemen are lovely,” Bonnie Sue added. “But please don’t tell my husband I said that. He might get the wrong idea.”

“Ooo, look at the bride’s feet.” Jolene let out a little squeal. “Are those. . .lace boots?”

“Ankle high,” I explained. And yes, lace and soft pink suede. Dolce and Gabbana.”

“How much?” Bonnie Sue asked.

“More than I make in a year as mayor, I’d be willing to bet.” Twila sighed. “Oh, but what a way to spend a year’s salary.”

“That’s Catania lace on those boots,” Mama said. “I’d know it anywhere.”

This led to a lengthy discussion about lace, which led to several comments from the ladies about vintage tea party décor, which led to a lengthy chat about the gorgeous wedding cake.

Wedding cake!

It was time to nudge the bride and groom toward the cake table for their first slice. Everyone in the room cheered as the once-bound-for-the-White-House groom shoved a piece of cake into his bride’s face. They found equal delight when she returned the favor. Afterwards, the best man and maid of honor gave their speeches and toasts were made. Then the dance floor was opened.

I watched as D.J. and Armando manned the music, seamlessly weaving from one tune to the next. I found myself a little surprised to see that Beau-Beau was an excellent dancer—and not a shy one, either. He and Victoria spent a great deal of time in each other’s arms on the dance floor.

The rest of the night seemed to sail by. I watched with a lump in my throat as the bride and groom thanked their guests, then made sure Victoria’s bag made it from the bride’s changing room to their limousine. Finally, with the guests—and the Secret Service —looking on, the bride and groom climbed into the limo and headed off into the night, never looking back.

At this point the crowd began to dissipate. A few folks lingered, but most headed to their cars, all under the watchful eye of O’Conner and his men. Once we found ourselves alone in the reception hall, the Rossi family decided to partake of some of the leftovers.

“I don’t know what most of this stuff is,” D.J. said. “But it’s not half bad.”

Laz turned his nose up at much of it, but Rosa gave the trout a thumbs-up

and Scarlet proclaimed the madeleines to be the best she’d ever eaten. We sat for some time, resting, and then reached that inevitable point where we knew we had to get to work clearing the room.

I buzzed along from table to table, removing the centerpieces. Then I went into the kitchen to make sure the caterers knew not to take any of the china place settings with them. Finally, I headed back out to the cake table, where I found O’Conner helping Scarlet and Armando box up the leftovers. I watched as he accidentally jabbed his fingers into the buttercream and then stuck them in his mouth.              

“Mmm.”

“Good, right?” Scarlet grinned.

“The best I’ve ever had.”

She and Armando carried boxes of cake out to their van and I turned my attention to the Secret Serviceman. “Can I ask you a question, Agent O’Conner?”

“I’m off the clock. Right now I’m just Joe.”

“Gee, I didn’t know you guys went off the clock.” I shrugged and snagged a couple of cookies, then handed one to him.

“So, off the record. . .” I leaned in to whisper the rest. “Who are you voting for? For president, I mean.”

“I can’t tell you that, Ma’am.” He licked the cookie crumbs from his fingers.

“Sure you can. It’s not top secret information, is it?”

“No. I can’t tell you. . .because I haven’t decided.” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and a delirious look came over him.

“Really? You mean you traveled all this time with DeVine and never planned to vote for him?”

O’Conner gave me a knowing look. “
You
planned his wedding and I suspect you never intended to vote for him, either.”

I sighed. “True, that. There are a lot of other candidates to consider.”

“Yep. I will add that I’ve tasted your uncle’s cooking and am leaning heavily in his direction.”

“I’m sad to tell you he’s pulled out of the race.”

“Many a good man has.”

“So, you had planned to be a Food Party voter?” I asked as I reached for a cookie.

“Maybe.”

“How would your Jui-Jitsu friends have reacted?” I took a bite of the cookie and laughed. “No need to respond to that. I was just kidding.”

“They kid around too, Mrs. Neeley. We all do. We’re normal people.”

“People who stand on roofs and wear sunglasses at night.”

“Well, yeah, but we have families. We laugh. We spend time together. Just like you Rossis do.” He paused and gazed at D.J., who gave him a welcoming smile. “I’ve been watching. You’ve got a great family.” His gaze shifted to Pop, who did a funny little dance. “A little quirky, maybe, but great. A person can go a long way in life if they have the love and support of their family.”

“True.”

His words struck me. . .hard. Every bit of progress I’d made in my life—at Club Wed, in my career—could be traced back to two things: my family and my faith. I knew where Agent O’Conner stood on the first, but what about the second?

I’d nearly opened my mouth to broach the subject when Jolene and Bonnie Sue approached.

Jolene shoved a monogrammed napkin in the agent’s direction. “It’s been so great getting to know you. Could I have your autograph please?”

“Oh, no Ma’am,” he said. “I really can’t do that. I’ve never been asked before, but I’m sure it’s against policy.”

She leaned close and whispered, “I won’t tell. Now c’mon, honey. Give me your John Hancock.”

O’Conner scribbled the words
Mickey Mouse
onto the napkin and Jolene turned her nose up at them.

“Mickey Mouse?”

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. You’ll have to take my word for it.”

She scurried away, napkin in hand.

“Mickey Mouse?” I laughed. “I know you guys have code names for everything, but. . .really?”

Agent O’Conner shook his head. “He’s my son’s favorite Disney character. That’s all. And if I’d written Donald Duck she might’ve taken it as an endorsement of one of the candidates.” O’Connor slapped himself on the knee. “Sometimes I amaze myself with my humor.”