Page 3 of A Rose of Steel
“No,” I said.
“I was hoping you could help me coordinate,” she said, giving me a pout. “I just finished speaking with a family up front, and I need you to keep an eye on the business while I was marrying the happy couple.”
“You’re speaking to grieving families about funeral arrangements at the same time you’re hosting a wedding?” I asked, disbelief evident in my words.
“Well ...” A sheepish look on her face. “I hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but did you see how many people are coming up that driveway to go out back to the wedding? Hundreds,” she said and took a peek out of the kitchen window. “I left some of my brochures for our burial plans out. People can only hope to get married. Death, my dear, is a sure bet. I have to sell our place of business whenever I can.”
“‘You left the brochures out? As in “out” at the wedding?”
“No silly,” she said. “At the end of the drive, when the guests first come through. Very tastefully presented.”
I bucked my eyes. “Oh yeah. Thatisbetter,” I said hoping she’d catch the sarcasm.
“I know, genius right?” She smiled, telling me my disapproval went right over her head. “Now when the guests enter the yard they’ll see what we have to offer.”
“I have to go,” I said, no need having this conversation with her. She saw no wrong in her actions. “So, I won’t be here. Why don’t you get your receptionist Floneva to speak to any would-be clients of yours?”
She shook her head. “Last time I saw her she was chasing the caterer trying to get samples. That woman eats like a horse.”
“Babet!” Miller Alvarez, the father of the bride stepped through the back door and took off his tan-colored Stetson. “Bonnie says you’re burning daylight and she’s all over me to get this dang thing started.”
“Wedding’s not supposed to start until eleven thirty,” Auntie Zanne said, looking down at her wristwatch. “And that’s not for another fifteen minutes.”
“What does it matter?” he said and swiped his fingers on either side of his dark brown handlebar moustache.
“It matters because you’re supposed to get married with the hands going toward the hour,” she said. “We wouldn’t want to mess things up for those two before they can even get started.”
Mr. Alvarez looked down at auntie from his six-foot-four, lanky frame and shook his head. “That boy is about to faint out there. You seen him? He might not last another fifteen minutes.”
“He’ll be alright,” Auntie Zanne said. “Romaine’s gonna have a look at him.”
“Look. Can’t you just talk slow?” he said and ran his hand down the side of his corduroy pants. I knew he had to be hot. No wonder he wanted to get started. “Then by 11:31 you’ll be pronouncing them. You’ll be happy. Bonnie’ll be happy. That’ll work won’t it?”
“Oh heavens,” Auntie said.
But before she could finish telling him her thoughts, he’d given me a once over and shook his head. “And I don’t think my Bonnie Belle is gonna let anybody near that boy. Nobody but you and the bride until this thing is done.”
Auntie flapped her arms on her sides, exasperated and looked from me up to the bride’s daddy. “Okay,” she said with a huff. “Let’s do this.” She pushed on Mr. Alvarez’s arm. “You. Out. Romaine. You get the girls moving then standby to give the groom some doctoring once he’s hitched.”
There was always so much going on in this house. I knew I should have gotten up and left before daylight even hit.
“Girls,” I said swinging the door open, reluctantly following my Auntie’s orders. “The wedding is getting started.” I pointed toward the window. “Time to head on out.”
“Arrghh!” Jorianne said. She fanned her hands over her face. “I’ve got bees buzzing all over me,” she smiled, “They’re making me hot and nervous.”
“It’s okay,” Marilee said and moved close to her friend. She’d filled her red hair with baby’s breath and her eyes with a pound of mascara. “You’re the first of us getting married. It’s making us all nervous. It’s just so exciting. I think I’ma cry.” Her voice went shaky.
“Don’t cry!” Jorianne said. “Then I’ll start crying.”
“Me too,” Tonya chimed in and went over and made a circle with her friends. “And we’ll mess up our make-up.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake,” Piper said and grabbed a bouquet off the table. “I’m outta here if you guys drop one tear. Just let’s please get this over with.”
“I have to put my veil on,” Jorianne said, shooting daggers at her sister.
“I’ll help you,” Marilee said. She tried to take the finely netted headpiece from Jorianne.
The bride swatted her hand away. “You’re shaking like a leaf on a tree. You’ll mess up my hair.” She looked at me. “Dr. Wilder can you help me?”
