Blaire Page 7

  Mrs. V clapped her hands. “A wedding meeting! That sounds wonderfully official!”

  While Mrs. V went to freshen up, I raced upstairs to get my tablet. I changed into my favorite white sundress with little bumblebees on it, too, for good luck.

  This is it! This is the first time Cat and Gabe are seeing all the ideas together. Will they love them as much as I do?

  I was about to find out.

  I’m so excited …” said Mrs. V. “I have goose bumps on my goose bumps!”

  We were all sitting at a big table on the restaurant patio: Cat, Gabe, Dad, Mrs. V, and me. I propped up my tablet, and Dad had his laptop open with the budget spreadsheet he was working on.

  I started with my ideas for the ceremony at the gazebo, swiping through photos on my online inspiration board. There were images of gazebos covered in a rainbow of colored tulle fabric, strung with twinkly lights and decorated with huge paper butterflies.

  “What’s that?” Cat asked, pointing at a picture of a pinwheel.

  “I thought we could line the path to the barn with pinwheels,” I explained. “They would look neat spinning in the sun.”

  Cat opened her mouth to say something, but Mrs. V interrupted.

  “That reminds me,” Mrs. V said. “I had a brainstorm when we were at the gazebo earlier. We need a red carpet down the aisle. Gabe’s father and I owned the Carpet Queen store chain, and we always put a red carpet out in the parking lot for grand openings. Everyone felt like royalty.”

  Cat looked at Gabe.

  “Um, Mom?” he said. “That’s great for a grand opening, but maybe not a wedding.”

  “Fine, fine. Just an idea. Plenty more in here,” Mrs. V said, tapping the screen of my tablet. “But we must have a bubble machine. We always had them at our big sales at Carpet Queen—remember, Gabe? When you were little, you liked to eat the bubbles. Anyway, they were my husband’s favorite thing. A bubble machine will make it feel as if he’s here at the wedding, too.”

  “Great idea,” I said, grinning at Mrs. V. “It would be so fun to walk through a cloud of bubbles!”

  “Just as long as Gabe doesn’t eat them,” Cat teased.

  “Okay, now the reception,” I said. I showed them more rainbow tulle, this time wrapped all the way up each of the barn’s wooden posts. The place cards would be origami fortune-tellers made out of “rustic” brown paper, and the wedding favors would be packets of seeds that read LET LOVE GROW! in shimmery ink. In the corner of the barn, on a stack of hay bales, we would put a chicken nesting box where people could put their cards for Cat and Gabe. “I’ll paint it sparkly lavender with ‘Gabe and Cat’s Nest Egg’ in gold letters on the top,” I explained. “The ‘nest egg’ part was Mrs. V’s idea.”

  Mrs. V grinned.

  I showed them my ideas for table decorations. “Check out these sparkly, floating gold candles I found,” I said to Cat. “We can put them on all the tables in bowls with stones and water from the creek, with more tulle and some twigs, and the wildflowers from the field that you like. What do you think?”

  There was a long pause. Finally, Cat said, “Whoa.”

  “Is that good?” I asked. “Do you love it?”

  Cat glanced at Gabe, then leaned back heavily in her chair.

  “Sprout,” she began. “You have so many fun ideas. It’s a lot to take in.”

  My heart sank. She hates it.

  “It should be a lot,” said Mrs. V. “Caterina, this is a wedding. Weddings are supposed to be big!”

  “Not if you don’t have the budget for it,” Cat replied. She pulled Dad’s laptop toward her and quickly looked over the spreadsheet, shaking her head. “We can’t spend this much.”

  So it’s not the ideas? I wondered. It’s the cost?

  “I can fix that, piece of cake!” exclaimed Mrs. V, snapping her fingers. “I’ll cover whatever you can’t.”

  “Oh no,” Cat stammered. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. I just want to keep things simple. More farm. Less fancy.”

  “I can do less fancy,” I said. “What if we—”

  “Wait,” Gabe interrupted. “I like some of the fancy. Those gold candles are nice.”

  Cat looked at the spreadsheet. “Gabe, those gold candles are expensive.”

  “Consider them my gift to you,” Mrs. V chimed in.

  Gabe smiled. Cat looked away. The patio fell silent.

  “I … I think I’ll go for a walk,” Cat finally said. She got up and left the patio.

  My stomach dropped. What just happened?

  Gabe got up and motioned for his mom to do the same. “Don’t worry, Blaire,” he said to me. “We’ll get it all figured out.”

  Mrs. V gave me a tight hug. “I’ll text you later,” she said.

  When they were gone, I turned to Dad. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Dad shook his head. “No, sweetheart. You did great. Cat and Gabe are still figuring out what they want. You’ve been thinking about all these ideas for a while now, but this was the first time they’ve seen everything together.” He picked up his laptop. “Let’s put the planning on hold for a day or so, okay?”

  “Okay.” I sighed.

  Wedding planning, it turned out, wasn’t romantic at all.

  I woke up the next day feeling so bummed about wedding planning being on hold that I stayed in my room all morning, playing games on my tablet. But after lunch, Grandpa insisted I come outside. “I need help with my project for the website,” he said. I followed him to the animals’ pen.

  “Blaire, hop up on the fence right there,” Grandpa said. “Okay, now Beckett, you kneel down in front of her with your arms around Penelope. Right! Just like that!”

  Grandpa took a shot of us with his camera, then compared what he saw on the display with an old black-and-white photograph in his hand. “Pretty good match!” he said.

  Beckett and I gathered around so we could see, too. The first photo was taken over sixty years ago, of Grandpa at age twelve, with his younger sister and one of their lambs. Then there was my brother and me, in the same pose in the same spot.

  “That’s so cool!” I said.

  Grandpa was working on a new page for our website about the history of Pleasant View Farm. Our story started when my great-grandparents bought the land with the house and orchard and turned the surrounding fields into a working farm. Later, my grandparents renovated the rooms on the second floor of the house and opened the B and B. Finally, Mom made her dream of running her own farm-to-table restaurant come true by adding a commercial kitchen and a big dining space to the house.

  “What are you going to do with the pictures?” Beckett asked.

  Grandpa waved the old photo in his hand. “I’ll post this one, along with the one I just took of you two, side by side, so folks can see Pleasant View ‘then’ and Pleasant View ‘now.’”

  Idea-spark! “The barn will be finished soon,” I said. “Maybe you can take pictures of the new ‘now’ for that, too!”

  Grandpa shook his head. “I wonder what my parents would say if they saw their old barn turned into a party space.”

  “I bet they would be happy we created a place for people to spend time with their family and friends,” I said.

  All Grandpa said was, “Mmm-hmm.”

  “And they’d like the bubble machine,” I said eagerly. “Mrs. V is bringing one so that her dead husband can be at the wedding.”

  Grandpa stopped. “She keeps his remains in a bubble machine?”

  I laughed. “L-O-L, Grandpa! No, I mean, having bubbles at events was something they both thought was fun.”

  “Okeydokey.” Grandpa shrugged. “Whatever blows your bubbles, I suppose.”

  Beckett started laughing at something on the camera.

  “Penny is totally pooping in this picture!” he said. “The one we just took!”

  “What?” I craned my neck to see. Beckett was right. “Grandpa, we need to retake that shot.”

  “Nah, we can just crop that part
out,” Grandpa said. “Okay, next photo. Who’s in the mood to climb some apple trees?”

  “Me!” Beckett cried as he took off toward the orchard.

  “How’s Thea these days?” Grandpa asked as we followed Beckett. “I haven’t seen her around the farm in a while.”

  I hesitated, not sure what to tell him. I wasn’t even sure myself what was going on with me and Thea. “I guess we’re both busy with other things this summer,” I said finally. “But maybe that’s how she wants it. The last time I talked to her, it didn’t seem like she missed me at all.”

  Grandpa stopped. “What do you mean?”

  We were at the arch at the entrance to the orchard. Beckett scrambled up an apple tree bursting with white blossoms. I told Grandpa about the swimming hole photos.

  “A photo is just a photo, Blaire. One moment in time. It doesn’t tell the whole story about Thea’s summer or even that day.” Grandpa paused, but I didn’t say anything so he kept going. “Just like how that cropped photo we’ll post doesn’t tell the whole story of how cute baby animals sometimes involve not-so-cute stuff—like poop!” He smiled.

  I tried to smile back. “I guess.” Maybe the swimming hole trip wasn’t what I thought it was. The photo couldn’t tell me whose idea it had been. Maybe it was Madison who invited Thea, not the other way around, like I’d been assuming.

  When we got back to the house, I found my tablet and texted Thea.

  Blaire: Hey! What’s up?

  Thea: Nothing. Are you feeling better?

  Blaire: Yes! Hey, did you ever make it to Trinkets?

  Thea: Nope not yet …

  Blaire: Let’s go! Maybe Moxie Cafe, too.

  Thea: YEEEEEES! Saturday?

  Blaire: Yes! Yay! See you then. Can’t wait!

  Success! My tablet buzzed with another text. This one was from Mrs. V.

  Mrs. V: Hello, my dear Blaire!

  Blaire: Hi Mrs. V.

  Mrs. V: Superb news! Don’t worry about Caterina wanting to drop some of our big ideas!!!!! Keep them all. I worked it out!!!!

  Blaire: Really? That’s great news!

  Mrs. V: So full steam ahead! I can start ordering everything we need if you send me a list. All those thingies and whatchamajigs you showed us.

  Blaire: And don’t forget the dead frogs.

  Mrs. V: Hee hee!!!! Of course!

  Blaire: Or maybe not. Beckett would probably end up putting one down Cat’s dress at the reception!

  Mrs. V: I’ll keep my eye on him. I can’t wait to see Cat’s dress!!! What does it look like?

  Blaire: Oh, don’t think she has one yet.

  Mrs. V: What?! There’s so little time!!!

  Blaire: Yeah, she better get on that. I’ll send you that list of supplies to order ASAP.

  Mrs. V: Huzzah! Here we go!

  Mrs. V: Oops. I meant this one:

  Excellent. Wedding planning was back on. Thea and I had plans for Saturday. I flapped my arms like chicken wings. Everything’s good!

  That night after dinner, I was in the kitchen with my tablet, making lists for Mrs. V, when Cat came in holding her phone out in front of her. “Blaire’s right here, Josephine,” she said to the phone.

  “What’s up?” I asked Cat, confused.

  “Mrs. V is video calling.”

  “Oh, great,” I said. “She learned how to do that!”

  Cat sat down next to me and held the phone out so that we were both in the frame. The only part of Mrs. V that was visible, though, was her ear. “Can you see me?” she asked.

  “Hold the phone out in front of your face,” I said.

  “Blaire, is that you?” Mrs. V’s face finally appeared on the screen. “Girls, I’m calling because a little birdie told me that Cat doesn’t have her wedding gown yet.”

  Cat gave me a sideways glance. Uh-oh—maybe Cat didn’t want Mrs. V to know she didn’t have a dress yet.

  “So,” Mrs. V continued. “I’ve booked an appointment for Cat at Kellenberger’s. You’ll have a great selection of dresses and can find the perfect wedding gown!”

  “No way!” I burst out. “Kellenberger’s, like on Dress Quest?!”

  Mrs. V laughed. “The very same one.”

  OMG. I imagined the store with its big chandeliers, fancy furniture, and walls of wedding gowns. Then I thought of Cat walking in as the bride. “You’re so lucky, Cat.”

  “Josephine, thank you,” began Cat. “You’ve been so generous. But I think Kellenberger’s is much too fancy for me. I was planning on checking out a vintage dress shop—”

  “Vintage?” said Mrs. V. “Well, if that’s what you like, I’m sure Kellenberger’s has plenty of new dresses that were carefully designed to look old!”

  I couldn’t believe Cat was passing up a chance to go to Kellenberger’s. “Cat,” I said, bouncing in my seat. “You have to go. It’s Kellenberger’s. It’ll be super fun!”

  Cat thought for a moment. “Okay. I’m game … but only if you come, too.”

  “Brilliant idea!” said Mrs. V. “We’ll make a girls day of it! This Saturday.”

  OMG OMG OMG! Me? At Kellenberger’s? Thea would positively freak out when I told her!

  Oh no. Thea. Saturday.

  I gestured to Cat and she lowered the phone so Mrs. V couldn’t see us.

  “Hello?” asked Mrs. V from the table. “Where did you go?”

  “I have plans with Thea on Saturday,” I whispered to Cat.

  “Can you change them?” Cat whispered back. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

  Cat needed me? That settled it. “Thea will understand,” I whispered.

  Cat brought the phone, and Mrs. V on the screen, back up to my face. “We’re in!” I said.

  After Cat left, I texted Thea.

  Blaire: So guess what? Cat is going to Kellenberger’s to shop for a dress!

  Thea: No way! Jealous! Aren’t you sooooo jealous?!?!

  Blaire: Actually … they asked if I’d go with them.

  Thea: Shut up! You’re going, right?!

  Blaire: Yeah. But it’s on Saturday. What about our plans?

  I waited as Thea typed. It took her a really long time to finally answer.

  Thea: You should go. Have fun.

  Blaire: Thanks—we’ll go to Trinkets and Moxie Cafe another time. Promise.

  I added a GIF of two cartoon monkeys with their hands locked in a pinkie promise.

  Thea: Okay. Good night.

  I waited for Thea to send me a funny GIF back.

  But nothing came.

  I felt like a celebrity stepping out of the taxi at Kellenberger’s.

  Strangers hurried by on the Midtown Manhattan sidewalk. The frenzy of energy and movement was so different from even the busiest day at Pleasant View Farm.

  “You’ve arrived!” shouted Mrs. V, who was waiting for Cat and me in front of the store. She was wearing a turquoise pantsuit and matching hat, with a rhinestone pin on her lapel that read MOTHER OF THE GROOM. “This is so exciting,” she gushed, ushering us inside.

  After we checked in at the front desk, a receptionist showed us to a waiting area. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she said with a smile. “Your consultant will be here in a moment.”

  Cat and I settled down on a plush gray sofa. We looked at each other and immediately started giggling. “I can’t believe I’m here,” Cat said.

  “Me neither,” I said. I picked up a copy of Empire State Weddings magazine and started flipping through the pages. I stopped at a photo of a bride and groom in front of a barn sort of like ours.

  “Cat, look,” I said, showing her the picture. Mrs. V leaned over to see, too. “Maybe the Barn at Pleasant View will be in here someday!”

  “Maybe.” Cat smiled. “That would be something to see.”

  A moment later, a woman dressed in black introduced herself as Monique. She clearly knew Mrs. V, because Mrs. V gave her one of her death-grip hugs. “Let’s see those gowns!” Mrs. V said.

  “What go
wns?” asked Cat. “I haven’t picked any out yet.”

  “I stopped in yesterday and chose a few for you to start with,” said Mrs. V.

  “Oh. I see,” Cat said. As we followed Monique down a long hallway, Cat leaned close to me and whispered, “No photos unless I say so, Sprout. Who knows what Mrs. V picked out.”

  Monique opened the door to a room full of silk, lace, taffeta, sequins, beads, and feathers. Cat seemed afraid to approach the dresses. “Oh gosh,” she murmured.

  “I know there’s a wide range of styles here, Caterina,” Mrs. V explained, “but that’s part of the adventure. You never know which dress might make you say YES!”

  “This is just a start,” Monique added. “Once I know what your taste is, I’ll be happy to find other gowns.”

  “It’ll be fun,” I assured Cat. “Like trying on costumes for Halloween.”

  Cat followed Monique into the dressing room. Mrs. V and I settled on a bench across from a half circle of mirrors. It seemed like forever before Cat finally came out. She was wearing a white silk dress with an enormous hoop skirt. She had to tilt the hoop up and shuffle sideways to get through the dressing room door.

  Mrs. V drew in her breath. “Oh, how lovely!”

  Cat’s expression said, “Oh, how awful.”

  “Um, Mrs. V?” I said, “I think that skirt is bigger than the gazebo. If Cat wears that, there won’t be room for Gabe at the ceremony.”

  “Good point, dear. Next dress.”

  The second dress had a narrower skirt, but the bottom of the hem was a circle of feathers. There were feathers at the scooped neckline and the elbow-length sleeves, too.

  “Now, that makes a statement!” said Mrs. V. “And you must admit it’s perfect for a country wedding.”

  But as Cat climbed up on the platform, she met my eye and gave a small shake of her head.

  “You … um … look like a Silkie chicken,” I said.

  “That’s a problem,” Cat said, climbing off the platform. “I don’t want to look like Dandelion on my wedding day.”

  The next dress, a one-shoulder gown that was covered in a million tiny beads and crystals, was clearly Mrs. V’s favorite. “Oh, Cat. What a lovely bride you are.”