“I know exactly what you mean. You don’t have to worry about a thing. We will figure it all out: me, you, and your fiancé.”
“That sounds perfect! I can’t wait to tell him. He doesn’t even know that I’m hiring a wedding planner.”
We get off the phone, and I’m still smiling. I can’t believe that I landed this job right after what just happened. And for a moment, I believe what Josie says about fate.
Chapter 6
Charlotte
“Doyou know of any local bands that identify as indie folk?” I ask, pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose.
“Is that like Noah Kahan?” Josie asks, looking over at me from the driver’s seat of my Toyota RAV. We are driving up to the ski resort in the town of Pineville, about two hours from Denver, and the city traffic is terrible. It works for me because I’m working on wedding details, with notebooks and tablets and my laptop all over the front seat. I do feel bad for Josie, though. She’s not a fan of city driving.
“We should have taken a bus,” she says, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“Do people still do that?” I ask, my fingers buzzing away on the keyboard as I search indie folk. “Also, I think it’s more of a Bob Dylan vibe. That makes sense.”
“Does anyone do what?” she asks nervously.
“Take the bus,” I answer.
“I don’t know,” she says as we crawl forward at a literal two miles per hour. “Does anyone listen to Bob Dylan anymore?”
“The budget-less bride, apparently. Oh, and Ben loved Bob Dylan, too.” I say.
“I wonder if it’s too late to take a train,” she says, her eyes as big as saucers.
“Thanks for driving,” I say, offering her a grimace of thanks.
“No problem,” she says with the fear of God in her eyes as two semi-trucks pass us on either side, boxing us into a much too narrow middle lane.
“This wedding is going to be seriously wild,” I go on. “She wants a five-tier cake. Five!”
“Jesus, how many people are on the guest list?” she asks as she hastily switches lanes and then lets out a sigh of relief as the traffic finally starts to move. I-70 going west is always a nightmare on Fridays, but I think once we take our exit and head into the mountains it will be much better. Maybe. That is if there’s not nine hundred people wanting to go skiing.
“Three hundred,” I answer, checking the number again.
“Holy shit! I don’t even know three hundred people!”
“Yeah. Well, it sounds like her and her fiancée are both extroverts. Luckily, most of those people won’t be there until the actual wedding day. Prior to that, it will just be a modest forty.”
“Oh to be rich and popular,” Josie shakes her head.
“I think I’ll pass,” I say as I switch to my tablet to go through my list of recommended caterers. Despite the fact that the bride basically handed me the keys, I still like to give my clients a listof at least three options for each category. Even people who are ‘okay with whatever’ still have stylistic preferences. Indecisive brides often need some direction, a narrowing down to reduce the overwhelming number of options.
“So how are you feeling?” Josie asks. It’s been a week since I found out I was pregnant. This is probably the fourth time she’s done a conversational U-turn back to the subject. And while I love her, it’s not my favorite thing to talk about. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around all of it.
“I’m fine,” I answer calmly. Meanwhile, I channel all of my nervousness into my hands, writing things down as I think of them.
“Any pregnancy symptoms yet?” she asks, and I really wish she wouldn’t use the P word.
“Not unless you count the absence of Shark Week as a symptom,” I answer.
“God, I am so jealous,” she sighs and then punctuates her reaction with an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean that. But it would be nice not having to spend $20 on tampons every month.”
“It’s weird,” I tell her. “So far, I don’t feel anything. Half the time I forget that I even am…” I make a point of avoiding the word. “But then I think about that night and how unrealistically good it was, and everything comes pouring back into my memory.”
“So it really was that epic,” she says, and I sigh, looking up from everything. “It’s going to be very hard to forget.”
