Always The Wedding Planner, Never The Bride Part 8

He questioned himself before answering. "Yes."

"Because maybe you only bounced back when you thought for a minute that you might lose me. You know what they say about a bird in the hand."

"Here's what I know for certain," he rea.s.sured her, and himself. "A life without you in it is no life at all."

She appeared to mull that over for a long and frozen moment. When she finally tilted that perfect pink mouth into a grin, her strawberry hair gleaming and her blue eyes glistening, Andy's heart started beating again. And he hadn't even realized it had stopped.

"Well, I figured there's probably some kind of girl code about after care. Like it's something only we can know, something we don't share with the male species."

"By penalty of . . . I don't know what!" Fee declared. "But it's good that you didn't spill everything you knew. After care is a trade secret for women. If men knew about it, they'd only louse it all up."

Sherilyn propped her elbows on the stainless steel worktable and giggled as Fee twirled the cookie gun in her hand like some sort of gothic version of Wyatt Earp. She held it up and blew on it, as if blowing the smoke from the barrel of a gun, before pressing it down to a cookie sheet and pulling the trigger again and again, leaving behind three rows of perfect little blue and white flowers.

"Those are beautiful!" Sherilyn exclaimed. "Are they for a wedding?"

"Nah. We've got a tea room bridal shower this afternoon."

"That's why you're here on Sat.u.r.day."

"Emma will be in later too. We have a wedding tonight." Fee pushed the cookie sheet aside and set up a clean one. Pressing out more of the blue and white flowers, she said, "You should stick around. Madeline will be here."

"Do you know what time? I'd love to meet her before Monday."

"She might be in her office now. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, Emma showed me. I think I'll take a walk upstairs and see if I can find her."

Fee nodded, twirled the cookie gun with a very straight face, blew on the end of it again, and returned to her task.

Sherilyn took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Through the gla.s.s side of the car, she watched the distance grow between herself and the courtyard until the elevator came to a stop. Around the corner, just beyond Jackson's office, she noticed Madeline's office alive with overhead light and activity.

"It's mah pleasure, Clinton. I look forward to seeing you in a little while then." The slow southern drawl reminded Sherilyn of Emma's mother, Avery. "May I help you?"

"Yes. Are you Madeline Winston?"

"I am."

Madeline tucked away a stray wisp of hair and smoothed the front of her brown crepe trousers. She wore an eye-catching brooch at the collar of her light blue blouse, and she adjusted it before extending her hand toward Sherilyn. "And you are?"

"I'm Sherilyn Caine. Your brother hired me to help you transition the wedding planning for the hotel."

"Yes, of co-ourse," she replied with a broad smile. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, sugah."

Sherilyn had rarely met anyone who seemed so invested in a handshake. She wondered if it was Madeline Winston, or just her southern heritage, that inspired such commitment.

"You start on Monday. Have you seen your future office yay-et?"

"I have. Emma gave me a little tour when I first arrived. I just thought I'd take the opportunity to introduce myself and see if there's anything I can do to help you. Fee told me you have a wedding tonight."

"We do. It's a special one too. The bride and groom are in their nineties!"

"Really!"

"As you can imagine, most of their friends have gone to be with the Lord already, so it's just a very small affair. Not too much to do, really. But you're welcome to come, if you'd like to."

"Thank you. I have plans with my fiance, but if we can swing by I'd really like that."

"We're in the small Desiree ballroom for the ceremony," she explained. "And just cake and coffee afterward in the courtyard. I was just arranging for some portable heaters, just in case they need them. Lately, we're starting to feel a little nip in the air at night."

"That's a great idea."

Madeline picked up an indigo leather journal from the desktop, closed by a pale blue ribbon wrapped around a copper b.u.t.ton.

"I made this for you," she said timidly as she handed the journal to Sherilyn. "It's a record of the first twenty-five weddings held here at the inn. It's all entered here as a keepsake, with the dates and the names of the bride and groom, the wedding themes and the menus. Just a little something to welcome you to The Tanglewood."

Emotion formed a warm mist over her eyes, and Sherilyn touched the woman's arm. "What a lovely thing to do."

"This place is G.o.d-inspired," she replied. "And we've just been waiting for you to come and take your rightful place."

The burning tears spilled down Sherilyn's face in an unexpected cascade, and she hurriedly wiped them away. "I don't know what to say. Thank you so much."

Madeline tugged Sherilyn toward an embrace. Afterward, she produced a tissue from the box on her desk and handed it to her. "I'm so pleased to meet you."

"Ditto," she managed while wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

They both turned toward the door. A woman with light brown hair and kind hazel eyes and wearing blue jeans and a tailored pinstriped shirt appeared concerned.

"Come in, come in," Madeline said, sniffing. "You have to meet Sherilyn Caine. Little bruthah hired her to take over the weddins. Sherilyn, this is my sister Norma Jean Blanchette."

"Sherilyn, this is such a pleasure," Norma said, shaking her hand.

"You'll be working closely with Norma," Madeline explained. "She coordinates the non-bridal events. Anniversaries, birthdays, charity fundraisahs."

"Oh, nice to meet you," Sherilyn said.

"Ooh, child, have we been waiting for you!" Norma teased.

Sherilyn smiled and wadded up the tissue in her fist. Something told her she'd been waiting for them a while too.

The first wedding reception at The Tanglewood Inn September 2010 Callie Beckinsale-Danny Mahoney Outdoor wedding at the groom's alma mater, George Washington High School Baseball-inspired reception-Met at a baseball game- Love the Atlanta Braves Menu: * Barbecued beef and cole slaw Cake: * Sculpted baseball glove holding the Pitcher Bride and the Catcher Groom

6.

When Andy suggested making an offer on the Sandpoint Drive house, Sherilyn had to remind him that they'd never made it upstairs.

"What if there's a huge gaping hole in the roof, or a few missing floorboards up there? Don't you think we ought to know about it?"

It was so unlike Andy to make such a spontaneous decision, especially without all of the facts! And so, for the sake of being fully informed, they'd called Lola and made a Sunday afternoon appointment to make it to the second floor of the house.

Lola hadn't arrived yet, so the two of them took a walk around to the backyard. Sliding gla.s.s doors led to a large wooden deck, and they sat down at the top of the three stairs, holding hands and gazing out over the pretty green lawn.

"What's that?" Sherilyn asked, pointing out a mop of white movement between the evergreens at the back of the property.

"I don't know. Stay here."

She pulled her feet up to the second stair and wrapped her arms around her knees as Andy took off to check it out.

"Be careful, Andy."

He leaned into the trees, and she heard his voice raise a couple of octaves as he spoke to whatever creature hid inside the wooded area beyond them.

"Andy! What is it?" she asked between clenched teeth. He grinned at her over his shoulder before returning his attention to the enormous shrub of dirty white fur that emerged.

Sherilyn hopped to her feet. "What is that?"

"It's a dog," he said with a laugh. "A really . . . really! . . . dirty dog."

Andy coaxed the thing out into the open, picking sticks and leaves from its tangled fur. "You don't have to hide," he told the thing. "We're friendly. Come on over here."

The dog stepped out from behind the trees, and Sherilyn could see that it was enormous.

"I think he's a sheepdog," Andy said as he headed toward her, patting out an invitation on his leg for the dog to follow him. "You know, one of those Old English dogs?"

"Like the one in The Little Mermaid."

"Yeah, I guess," he replied. "Only filthy."

Andy sat down on the top stair while Sherilyn stood behind him on the deck. "Come here, boy."

The thing walked right up to him and stood with his nose pressed into Andy's leg. At least Sherilyn thought it was his nose. There were so many dark spots poking out of its fur that she couldn't really be sure.

"What is that smell?" she asked, taking two steps backward.

"Oh, no! Is that him?"

"I think it's him."

"Wow!" Her eyes began to water.

"How long have you been out there on your own, boy?"

Andy asked, pushing the clumps of matted fur back from the dog's eyes. "Sherilyn, look at this. He has two different colored eyes."

One of the dog's eyes was light crystal blue, and the other a dark brown.

"That's creepy."

"I think it's cool."

"Andy, where's his tail?"

"Sheepdogs don't have tails. They're docked when they're puppies."

"Docked!" she exclaimed. "You mean they cut their tails off? That's horrible!"

"It's like a Doberman. Their tails are docked and their ears cropped within the first month or two of life. The same with sheepdogs and their tails."

"How do you know when he's happy if he can't wag his tail?"

Andy turned and looked at her curiously for a moment before bursting with laughter that made the dog flinch.

"Sorry, buddy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." The animal gave them a timid once-over before stepping forward again.

"He smells really bad," Sherilyn remarked, and the dog looked up at her and c.o.c.ked his head. "Sorry, but you do."

Running his hand around the dog's neck, Andy observed, "He has no collar or identification. And he looks like he's been outside a long time."

"He smells that way too," she added, her hand over her nose and mouth.

"He can't help it," Andy told her. "He's probably lost. And hungry. I'll bet you are, aren't you, boy?"

In the same way that Andy had described his future playing before him the last time they'd visited this house, Sherilyn saw her own version this time around. Except instead of children, mortgages, and tuition bills, she saw a dog dripping with mud hopping onto the sofa, fleas dancing in the carpet like Mexican jumping beans, and an enormous fur wall between them.

"Andy," she broached. "I'm not really . . . you know . . . a dog person."

"How can you not be a dog person?" he replied on a chuckle, and he smoothed back the fur from the dog's strange eyes. "Look at this guy. Give him a bath, a good meal, and a few squeaky toys to keep him occupied, and what's not to love?"

Uh-oh.

Sherilyn said a silent prayer of thanks when Lola arrived. They left the dog in the backyard and toured the upstairs level of the house, which turned out to be as beautiful as the lower level, and-bonus!-the place came with a fully finished bas.e.m.e.nt as well. The master bathroom had a small skylight and a stained gla.s.s arch behind the luxurious garden tub.

"So what do you think?" Lola asked them when they returned to the kitchen for one last look around.

"It's exquisite," Sherilyn gushed. "I love the place."

"How much stretch do you think the sellers have on their asking price?" Andy inquired.

"The house has been on the market for more than ninety days. In this economic climate, I think they'll be excited to have an offer."

As Andy discussed the details of the offer with Lola, Sherilyn wandered into the empty family room. The visual came readily: Andy's brown micro suede sectional, and her two easy chairs upholstered in deep navy blue. They would look beautiful centered around the focal point of that large stone fireplace on the far wall.