Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel Page 14

  Five minutes later, after a quick call to Bella, I turned back to my best friend, who’d taken to nibbling at her own cake samples. “She’s across the street at Parma John’s. Her uncle owns the place. She’s there a lot.” I paused, then asked, “Want to go to lunch?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She traipsed along behind me as we crossed the Strand with its magnificent old buildings. The island-themed tourist shops advertised winter specials—hot chocolate and coffees, to be precise. I didn’t blame them. Anyone with a business on the Strand realized that tourists were an essential part of the income equation.

  Down the block, but well within view, I saw a family going into the local confectionery. My stomach grumbled, and I realized I’d better stay focused on real food for now.

  Moments later I led the way inside Parma John’s, pausing as the fragrant smells of pizza sauce, garlic, and sausage rose up to meet me. Mmm. The always-busy restaurant was jam-packed with customers, most laughing and talking over the strains of a familiar Dean Martin song playing overhead. I loved the ambience in Parma John’s. Always had. But the smell . . . now that’s what really got to me.

  “So much for my diet.” Scarlet laughed. “Want to split a pizza?”

  “Sure. Why not. But I’ve got to talk to Bella first.”

  I walked up to the counter, where I discovered a very pregnant young woman about my own age manning the register. She wore a nametag that read Jenna.

  “Welcome to Parma John’s.” Her voice rang out above the melody of “Mambo Italiano,” which played through the restaurant’s sound system. I started to say something, but she continued before I could get a word in edgewise. “Would you like to try our special of the day—a large Mambo Italiano pizza with two cappuccinos for only $17.95?”

  “No thank you. I’m looking for Bella Neeley. She said she would be here.”

  “Ah. She’s in the back, meeting with Laz. Hang on a minute.” The young woman turned, revealing the girth of her belly, then disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a couple of minutes later with Bella on her heels.

  Bella’s brow wrinkled. “Hannah? Everything okay? You sounded kind of funny on the phone. A little stressed out?”

  “Yeah. I mean, no. I mean . . . we really need to talk.” Might as well get this over with.

  Scarlet gave me an encouraging pat on the arm, followed by, “I’ll get the pizza.”

  I nodded, then took a seat at an empty table. Bella joined me, and I did my best to fill her in on the email I’d received from George. I could tell from her countenance—her expression shifting to one of genuine concern—that the whole thing worried her. It worried me too.

  “Oh, man.” She drummed her fingertips on the table after hearing the whole story. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” I felt a lump in my stomach and nausea set in. Still, what could I do? Resting my elbows on the table, I leaned forward, ready to admit defeat. “Bella, I can’t sign it. It would destroy my career. Surely you can see that.”

  “Yes. I get it, but . . .” She shook her head. “If we can’t get this figured out, it messes up everything, especially with Brock coming. You know? And if it’s a legal issue for you, it could end up being a legal issue for me too.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “Surely not. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Neither have you.”

  “Yes, but they’re still coming after me, regardless. And thank you for acknowledging that I’ve done nothing wrong, by the way. That helps.” I drew in a breath. “I can’t sign something that could take my business down. I’ve worked way too hard for that. And besides, we need to protect Brock’s privacy too. If the wedding photos are leaked against his will, he could hire an attorney and come after me.”

  “I can’t imagine Brock doing something like that.”

  “Still.” Off I went on a tangent about how difficult my life was. About how hard I’d worked to prove myself. When I ended, I leaned forward, my forehead on the table, and groaned. “Jacquie Goldfarb is out to get me.”

  “Huh? Who’s Jacquie Goldfarb?” Bella asked.

  I looked up and said, “Never mind. I’m just a little freaked out.”

  “I can tell.” She chuckled. This served to alleviate the tension, at least for a moment.

  “Do you ever feel like all of your hard work is in vain?” I dabbed away the moisture from my eyes and sniffled.

  “You’re asking a woman who works from sunup till sundown if she feels like all of her hard work is in vain?” A dazzling smile replaced her near-frown. “Oh, girl! You have no idea. But then I look at D.J. and the kids—I see all that God has accomplished in our lives—and I know there’s a bigger plan.” Bella grabbed my hand and gazed at me with such intensity that I felt like a kid standing before a teacher after being caught cheating on a test. “God has a bigger plan for you, Hannah. He does.”

  “I know.” But as I thought through her words, I realized they required a slightly different response. “I mean, I think I know. I say that I know. I tell people that I know. But in my heart I’m not sure that I really know. You know?” Leaning forward, I plopped my forehead down onto the table again and began to mumble.

  “You are in bad shape.” Scarlet’s voice sounded as she took a seat next to me. “But pizza will help.”

  “W-what?” I looked up.

  “Pizza. It’ll cure whatever ails you. Trust me on this. I’ve used this prescription many a time with positive results.” She rubbed her ample midsection and grinned, then turned to introduce herself to Bella. Within seconds the two were best friends. Go figure. Then again, Scarlet often had that effect on people.

  A couple of minutes later, the young woman behind the register turned to the kitchen and hollered, “One Mambo Italiano, heavy on the cheese.”

  “Heavy on the cheese?” I shook my head. How cheese could solve my problem, I had no idea. Still, with my near-empty stomach grumbling, I was willing to give it a try.

  “You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?” Bella asked.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Good. You’re going to love the Mambo Italiano special, trust me.”

  As we waited for the pizza, I did my best to reason things out with Bella without coming across sounding like a scared child. “I don’t want you to think I panic easily,” I explained.

  Scarlet gave me a “sure you don’t” look, but I plowed ahead. “I’m really easygoing. Or, at least I used to be. When I was a kid.”

  “Weren’t we all?” Bella chuckled.

  “Yeah.” My thoughts tumbled backward in time. “I want to go back to the way I was when I was a little girl. Grandpa Aengus used to say that I had lilt.”

  “Lilt?”

  “You know, a spring in my step.” I reached for my necklace and started fidgeting. Until I remembered what Drew had said. “Maybe it’s an Irish expression. I don’t know. I just know that I was quirky and fun. Didn’t care so much about things. I let them roll off me, not weigh me down. Somewhere along the way I lost my lilt. My resilience. My cheerfulness. My buoyancy. You know . . . my lilt.”

  “Where does one go to buy lilt?” Scarlet took a sip of her drink and leaned back in her chair.

  “If I knew, I’d buy it.” I closed my eyes and thought back to my childhood. “I wish you’d known me then. I was the classic fairy-tale heroine—cheerful, always singing a happy tune, skipping through the proverbial meadow, looking on the bright side of things.”

  For a moment I had a vision of Bella’s parrot singing “Amazing Grace.” Lighthearted. Carefree.

  B.J.G. Before Jacquie Goldfarb.

  “You’re still like that.” Bella gave my hand a squeeze. “At least that’s how you come across to me.”

  “Thank you.” Sure, I was glad I came across that way, but in my heart I knew it wasn’t the same as before. “Just feels like I get my feet knocked out from under me a lot. Going all the way back to high school, actually, when the guy I though
t I loved—emphasis on thought—told me that he planned to ask me to the prom, but he ended up going with my so-called friend instead.”

  “Wait, your dream date ended up taking your friend to the prom?”

  “Jacquie Goldfarb.” I sighed. “But I guess we should be calling her a frenemy, not a friend.”

  “Why do I keep hearing that name?” Bella’s nose wrinkled.

  “Just wait.” Scarlet rolled her eyes. “You’ll be hearing it a lot.”

  “She’s a girl I knew in high school,” I explained. “Cheerleader. Dated the quarterback.”

  “Ah, I know that girl.” Bella grinned. “Well, maybe not Jacquie Goldfarb, but I definitely know her type.”

  You probably were that girl. C’mon, Bella. You’re the kind of girl everyone envies.

  I released the wistful sigh wriggling its way to the surface.

  “So, were you real friends?” she asked. “With Jacquie, I mean.”

  “I always wanted to be. Guess I tried a little too hard to be like her. But I never came close.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.” Scarlet’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not going to try to tell me that you were socially awkward as a kid, are you? Because frankly, you’re one of the coolest girls I know.”

  “I was socially awkward.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Okay, not when I was a little girl. All of this started in high school. Before that I was pretty carefree. And I’d love to get back to that place. Not saying I want to be a kid again. Just saying I want my lilt back.”

  “Lost your lilt, eh?” An older woman’s twangy voice rang out from behind me. “Sounds pretty tragic.”

  “Yes. Not sure what to advise,” another woman countered, her voice even more countrified. “Maybe a trip to the beauty salon for a perm?”

  “I once had a Lilt perm,” a third voice sounded. “The derned thing like to fried my scalp.”

  What in the world?

  I turned to see three unfamiliar ladies standing directly behind me. The first woman—a large, glitzy gal with a beehive hairdo—stared at me with such intensity that I felt as if she could see all the way into my soul. My bare, naked, writhing soul.

  Oh. Help.

  “Well, if you aren’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” She reached out to stroke my hair. “Gorgeous hair. And look at that peaches-and-cream complexion. You must know the secret of a great moisturizer.”

  “Oh, I . . .”

  “Your pores are magnificent.” The second one bent down—albeit arthritically—to have a closer look at my pores. “How do you do it?”

  I fought the temptation to swat her hand as she touched my cheek. Ew!

  “Easy,” Scarlet chimed in. “She stays indoors all day.”

  “An island girl who stays indoors?” The third woman snorted, then rested her hand on my shoulder. “Scared of the sun?”

  “My complexion is light. I burn too easily to go outdoors.”

  And why are you all touching me?

  “Smart girl.” The first woman leaned down—Lord, help me look away from the boobs that are headed my way—and I smelled the peach tea on her breath.

  Bella rose from her chair, all smiles. She threw her arms around the largest of the three ladies and began to gush in Italian. After a couple of minutes of greeting them, she looked my way. “Hannah, what perfect timing! If anyone can advise you, these precious ladies can.”

  “O-oh?”

  “Yes, I want you to meet three of my best friends in the world. These are the ladies I was telling you about, from Splendora.”

  She introduced them as Sister Twila, Sister Jolene, and Sister Bonnie Sue from the piney woods of east Texas. And though she referred to the buxom trio as sisters, I had a feeling they weren’t related. And they definitely weren’t nuns. No way, no how. Not with those glittery blouses and froufrou hairdos. Turned out, in their neck of the woods, everyone was referred to as brother or sister.

  I guess that would make me Sister Hannah. Perfect. Grandpa Aengus always wanted me to be a nun.

  “Well, happy to meet you, sweet girl,” Twila said with a grin. “You’ve got to be one of the prettiest little things ever.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  “Really, you’re a true beauty queen. That gorgeous red hair . . .” She clucked her tongue. “Girl, I have to pay top dollar at the Cut ’n’ Strut in Splendora to have my hair dyed red. God blessed you with that color naturally.”

  “I’ve never considered it a blessing, trust me.” Once the words slipped out, I wished I could take them back. I didn’t care to talk about my hair color. Or my freckles. Or my pale skin.

  “You need to embrace what the good Lord gave you,” Jolene said, her gaze narrowing. She turned to Scarlet and took her hand. “And if you aren’t a soul sister, I don’t know what you are!”

  Oh dear. The only thing Scarlet appeared to have in common with these three was her fluffy size. Still, she didn’t even flinch. In fact, she greeted them like long-lost sisters with a confident “Happy to meet you.”

  “We never come to Galveston without stopping in to see Bella and the kids,” Bonne Sue said.

  “And to have the Mambo Italiano special.” Jolene nodded. “It’s the perfect pick-me-up when you’ve had a hard day.”

  “Exactly why Hannah’s here,” Scarlet said. “She needed a pick-me-up today.”

  “Well then, we’re just in time.”

  The ladies pulled up chairs, and our party of three morphed to six. Bella ordered more pizza, and it arrived shortly. The women instigated a fun conversation filled with lilt, and I found myself captivated by their funny, easygoing style. Their conversation bounced back and forth from hair and makeup to deep spiritual issues. In spite of our obvious differences, there was a certain quirkiness about them that resonated with me. Why?

  Because you used to be like them, Hannah. You used to approach life from a carefree place.

  “Don’t recall ever praying for someone’s lilt before.” Sister Twila dabbed some pizza sauce from her lip, then reached over and took my hand. “But I’m open to the idea, so I commit to give it a go.”

  “I think her problem is a little deeper than that,” Bella said.

  “It’s a matter of conscience,” I added. “Well, conscience and money. And legalities. And a few other things.” A wave of nausea passed over me, and I did my best not to let my emotions get the better of me in front of these ladies. They hardly knew me. Wouldn’t be fair to total strangers to have a nervous breakdown in front of them.

  “Something you can share?” Bonnie Sue gave me a pensive look. “It just so happens I specialize in praying for the personal needs of others, and I’m ready, willing, and able to bow the knee right here, right now.”

  I could hardly picture this plus-sized woman kneeling, let alone in the middle of a pizza parlor, but stranger things had happened.

  “If there’s anything we’ve learned,” Jolene threw in, “it’s how to stop right where we are and pray.”

  Interesting concept. I couldn’t imagine being that bold, but I admired them for their dedication to prayer.

  “So what’s happening, honey?” Twila’s eyes showed her concern. “Something you can share publicly?”

  “Oh, well, I . . .” How much should I disclose? I barely knew these women. “I’m having a little trouble with a bridezilla. Or, rather, the bridezilla’s publicist.”

  “A bridezilla, eh?” Jolene’s beehive hairdo bounced as she turned my way. “I saw this once on television. Quite a pistol, if memory serves me correctly. Made things a nightmare for everyone. I daresay, if Bella’s got a bride who treats her like that gal treated her wedding planner, she’ll knock some sense into her. Won’t you, Bella?”

  For the first time ever, I got to hear Bella’s take on the matter of one Sierra Caswell. Off she went, talking about what a rough time we were having with our bride-to-be’s publicist.

  “Oh, is this the wedding I read about in Texas Br
ide magazine?” Twila’s eyes widened. “Isn’t the bride that feisty country-western singing gal?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to incriminate anyone. “Well, it’s a bride whose name you might recognize. That’s really all we can say.”

  Twila winked. “I understand, honey. Say no more. You’re working double time to maintain her privacy.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Good for you. That’s admirable.” She patted my hand. Again with the touching? “I like a girl who can be trusted.”

  “See?” I turned to Bella. “People count on me to be trustworthy. How trustworthy would I be if I agreed to sign that document? People would see me as a traitor. This is more than a matter of right and wrong, it’s a matter of perception from my would-be clients.”

  “Well, you know what I always say,” Twila interjected. “It’s easy to be flexible when one is spineless.” She leaned forward and gave me a pensive look. “Stiffen your spine, girlie. Don’t let ’em get to you.”

  This, of course, led to a rebound conversation from the three Splendora sisters, who offered all sorts of advice, some of it usable, some not so much. The conversation rolled right past Bonnie Sue’s tidbit: “When the devil starts messing, God starts blessing,” and right on through to Jolene’s sage advice: “When you’re arguing with a fool, make sure the other person isn’t doing the same thing.”

  I found their chatter to be wonderfully distracting. Just what I needed. Well, that and the pizza, which really hit the spot. As we nibbled on the cheesy goodness, drank our Diet Cokes, and basically unloaded our cares on one another, I found my spirits lifted. To think my attitude could change this drastically, and all in an extended two-hour lunch.

  Two hours? I’d better get back to my studio. I had a three o’clock appointment with a new client.

  Wrapping up with the Splendora trio was easier said than done. Another fifteen minutes of goodbyes transpired, followed by hugs all around, along with a promise from Scarlet to bake a cake for Jolene’s upcoming birthday party. Go figure.

  I left Parma John’s feeling better than I had in weeks. Well, unless you counted that whole “what am I going to do about the obvious?” issue with Sierra Caswell’s publicist. Still, that decision would wait for another day. And Bella trusted me to do the right thing. I could sense it. Right now I had to focus on my new client and try to get back to the business of photography.