Page 66 of The Wedding Run
“Sure thing,” Roxie calls out as she hurries behind the counter.
“There a problem?” Dad asks, tilting his head toward Andrea, who sniffles into a tissue. Having raised three girls, he’s not immune to female tears, but he can also remain distant.
I hurry to the forlorn bride. “Andrea, I’ve already secured another photographer, and I know a cake decorator. I’ll see if she’s available. Okay?”
“You saidif. What if she can’t? It’s such short notice. How will we ever?—”
“Let me text before we panic.”
I text Elle and Charlie:Mayday!!! I need a wedding cake and a photographer by 6am tomorrow morning!
I place a comforting hand on Andrea’s arm. “They’ll let me know as soon as possible.”
Dad walks toward us, holding to-go cups in both hands.
“How nice,” I say, reaching for the cup that will hopefully fuel me through this crisis, but he dodges, angling toward the door.
“Call you later, Sugarbug.”
My gaze follows him through the plate glass window. Delia waits for him at the curb. Alarm bells go off in my head as Dad hands her what I assumed was my coffee.
“How sweet!” Andrea says, following my gaze. “Looks like someone’s in love!”
“What?!” I stammer.
My phone dings. Andrea eyes my phone like it’s a lottery ticket.
I glance at the screen. “The cake decorator is loading supplies and heading our way. Now, dry those tears and go enjoy your rehearsal dinner. I’ll take care of everything.”
“I can’t believe it!” She throws her arms around me, then rushes out the door in a flurry of emotional relief.
Which sends the rest of us into a frenzied whirlwind of action.
CHAPTER 34
Libby
It’s an all-hands-on-deck emergency.
We gather at Luke’s parents’ house. It takes all of us: Elle, Charlie, Luke, Roxie, Stacy, and Wade, plus Bailey, of course. We make several trips to Elle’s VW Beetle to unload supplies for the wedding cake and to create baby quiches, muffins, and a side order of a million scones. Okay, not quite that many, but it feels impossible. We pile everything, and I mean everything, onto the kitchen table.
Wade surveys the pounds of flour, sugar, and butter, along with various sizes of cake pans. “How big is this cake going to be?”
Stacy pats him on the arm. “Let’s get pizzas.”
Elle whirls around, organizing supplies, from an industrial-sized mixer to tiny measuring spoons. She brought everything she might need and then some.
“You don’t mind Bailey being here, do you?” Charlie asks.
“Not at all.” Stacy pats Bailey’s side. “He’s beautiful and welcome. It’s been too long since we had a dog.”
Elle ties the chef’s apron she bought during a stint in Paris and surveys the small, medium, and large spatulas, along withevery cake-decorating tool imaginable. “What time do we need to be finished?”
“Six in the morning,” Roxie tells her.
“A dawn wedding,” Luke adds.
Wade laughs. “Like an execution.”
