By the time the last plate from breakfast was cleaned and put away, my shoulders ached and my mind buzzed with the rest of the day’s schedule. There was a bachelorette party to feed, a bachelor hangout to provision, and regular guests who expected the inn to function as though none of this were happening.
Kitty swept into the kitchen holding a clipboard and looking like she had been awake for sixteen hours already. “We have a situation.”
“Perhaps you should tell us what the situation is rather than just announcing it,” Meri mused.
The bridesmaids want an activity this afternoon that is fun, photogenic, festive, and not messy. It must involve food. It must not stain clothing. It must look good on camera because James’ crew is filming it,” Kitty read from her clipboard.
“This is your wedding, what do you suggest?” Lucy asked as she wiped down my butcher block.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here asking for suggestions,” Kitty said.
“We could do simple cookie decorating,” I suggested. “Plain sugar cookies, basic icing, maybe two or three topping options. Nothing that runs or drips. We can make them in fun wedding shapes.”
Kitty’s eyes widened like I had handed her a life raft. “You can do that.”
“Yes. If we start baking right now,” I decided.
“You are a genius,” she breathed. “I knew you would fix this.”
“You might want to ask them if they would like to decorate cookies,” I said, but she had already left the kitchen.
Meri shifted to the mixer without comment. “I will start the dough.”
“Thank you,” I gratefully said.
She gave me a look that said this was nothing compared to things we had handled before.
While we mixed and chilled dough, James attempted to film a segment about “feminine elegance in dessert form,” which mainly involved him rearranging the cookies I had just placed on the tray into a less practical pattern. Each time he turned away, Meri nudged them back into a grid.
The crew pressed closer to capture icing being stirred and cookies laid out. Braxton took that as his cue to redirect them.
“If you set up here,” he said, gesturing to a spot a little farther from my elbow, “you will get a clean shot of the table”
The assistant director frowned at the floor, then nodded.
With the cookies cooled and the icing colored, we moved everything into one of the event rooms. Lydia and Kitty set up the table with cheerful determination. Meri brought in trays. I followed with piping bags and a quiet hope that the bride and her party wouldn’t think the activity was too childish.
“Remember,” Kitty said, adjusting a centerpiece, “nothing too wild. The bride wants classy fun.”
“I am not sure those words all belong together,” Lydia mused.
“They do this week,” Kitty insisted.
I arranged the cookies on platters and lined up small bowls of sprinkles. The room looked festive and inviting, with soft lights and evergreen accents on the mantle.
From the doorway, I saw Braxton standing with his hands in his pockets, watching us work. He caught my eye and tipped his head toward the hallway where the crew was herding equipment.
“They want to bring in another light,” he said quietly as I joined him.
“Of course they do,” I sighed.
“I convinced them to test it in the corner first,” he added. “And to keep that stand away from the exit.”
I smiled. “You are very good at this.”
“Keeping people from falling?” he said. “I have practice.”
“From the office,” I asked.
