That Lucky Old Sun (The Bella Novella Collection Book 4) Page 3
Mrs. Nguyen couldn’t seem to come up with words, either. Apparently the idea of leaving their beloved Vietnamese elements out of the ceremony was more than she could manage.
Only Ling’s grandfather seemed to be taking this news in stride. He rose and walked over to the kitchen table, where Cassia had placed the tray of pastries. The tiny fellow chose a yummy-looking one, popped it into his mouth, and a look of pure bliss passed over his face. Afterwards, he reached down once again and took a second pastry.
“These are wonderful,” he said after licking his fingers clean. “I could eat them every day!”
In that moment, you could’ve heard a pin drop. Well, if not for the sound of the children thundering across the media room floor above our heads. I looked around the room, content in the realization that these folks would—eventually—learn to get along. And compromise. Didn’t all weddings require compromise?
The silence lingered, and gave me hope.
Finally. A moment of peace. Oh, if only it would last!
CHAPTER FOUR
I Get Around
A couple of days after the infamous “Greeks vs. Vietnamese” brunch, I met up with the bride-to-be at the Moody Gardens restaurant, one of the prettiest—and quietest—places on the island. I arrived fashionably late after dropping off the kids at my parents’ place.
Ling waited for me at the door of the restaurant, her face lighting into a soft smile the moment she saw me. In that moment I saw hope in her eyes.
“Bella, thank you so much for inviting me.” She opened her arms wide.
I gave her a warm hug, and felt her genuine contentment as we embraced. “Happy for a getaway, if you want the truth of it. I’m up to my eyeballs in wedding stuff. Always nice to step away from the office for lunch with a friend.”
“Wedding stuff? Mine?” she asked, her eyes narrowing a bit.
“Yours. . .and about three others. Just booked a big ceremony at Club Wed for mid-October. A fall-themed one for a librarian. Should be fun, right? And I’ve got a few others between now and then. But yours comes first. Literally. Just two weeks from now and you’ll be Mrs. Ling Pappas!”
Boy, did that ever sound strange to my ears.
“I know.” For a moment, I thought I saw panic in her eyes. Just as quickly, the look faded.
As the hostess led us to our table and then took our drink orders, Ling gestured to the beautiful, peaceful surroundings. Through the window I could see the sunlight on the waters of the bay. Galveston’s famous paddlewheel boat, The Colonel, moved across the waters, carrying tourists and creating ripples in the water. “Do you notice anything, Bella?”
I looked around the familiar restaurant, trying to imagine what she might be referring to. “They have new pictures on the wall? I like the colors. Very beachy.”
“No, silly. Not that, though they do look nice.”
I gave the room a second glance. “Oh, the tablecloths? They’re new?”
“No.” She laughed and then took a seat after the hostess pulled back her chair. “It’s quiet in here. No one arguing. No one bickering over what sort of food we should serve or what kind of ceremony to have. Peaceful. Calm. . .” Her lip quivered and I saw tears brimming in her eyes. “Q-Q-Q-Quiet!”
Okay, so that last word didn’t come out so quiet, but I got her point. I took my seat then reached over and placed my hand on hers. “Ling, it won’t always be like this, I promise.”
“H-H-How do you know?” She reached for her napkin and swiped at her damp eyes. “They hate each other.”
“No. They don’t hate each other. They’re different from each other. And if anyone knows what it’s like to marry someone who’s different from you, I do.” I gave her a compassionate look. “You didn’t know me back when D.J. and I got married, but let’s just say our two families weren’t always as close as they are now. But the point is, they’d die for each other now.”
“Please don’t say die. I’m just hoping no one kills anyone else between now and the wedding day.” A little pause followed on her end and then she shivered.
“You okay over there?” I asked, concern growing.
“Yeah. Just thinking about my Cha. . .my father, sorry.”
“What about him?”
“He’s only been police chief a few months, you know?”
“Right. He moved his way up through the ranks at the police department, from what D.J. told me. He’s a hard worker.”
“Very hard worker.” Her shoulders squared, and for a moment I could read the pride in her eyes. “And he’s taken a lot of heat about his ethnicity along the way. You wouldn’t believe the names he’s been called and the threats people have made.”
“Ling, that’s terrible!”
“Tell me about it. But now he’s in a position of authority and it’s done something to him. I can’t explain it, exactly, but it’s almost like he’s. . .he’s. . .” She lowered her voice and leaned forward, speaking only to me, and not the folks at the next table. “He’s let the power go to his head.”
“Could be. Or maybe he’s just trying to figure out how to be an authority figure that people will respect. He’s on a learning curve, I’m sure.”
“Maybe, but sometimes I think he confuses respect with bullying. Not that you ever heard that from me, of course.”
“Of course.”
She sighed and then picked up the menu from the table. “Mmm. Salad sounds great. Not Greek. Not Vietnamese. Just. . .salad.” Tears rose to cover her lashes but she brushed them away. “No olives. No tomatoes. No feta cheese. No red onions. Just. Plain. Salad.”
I’d never watched anyone grieve over a salad before—particularly one that hadn’t even been ordered yet—so I wasn’t sure how to respond. I reached over to touch her hand once more, feeling more like a counselor than a wedding coordinator.
“Your families are in the acclimation period, girl. It takes a few months, maybe a couple of years, but I promise you this—soon they will bond. Something will happen to draw you together.”
“What kind of something?”
“Not sure, but God always manages to use something. You know what the Bible says. . .that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
“Bella, that’s not in the Bible. It’s a Kelly Clarkson song.”
“Oh, right. But you get the idea. Something will happen to bring all of you together. You’ll ride some kind of big wave together, and before you know it you’ll be one happy family just like the Rossis and Neeleys are today.”
“I think that whole ‘one big happy family’ thing is just an illusion.” She opened the menu and her gaze shifted down at the selections. “And I’m not sure I want to ride a big wave. I might just drown.” I couldn’t help but notice that she hyper-focused on the salad section of the menu as she spoke.
“The kind of ‘togetherness’ I’m referring to isn’t an illusion. People still squabble. Folks don’t always agree on methods or modes, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love. Love conquers all.”
“Love conquers all.” She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll remember that when I’m sailing over that next big wave.”
We both ordered the salad—relatively plain, with grilled chicken—and then I pulled out my iPad, ready to get to work. “Okay, girl. It’s time to make our final tweaks. There’s no one here to distract us, so let’s get to it.”
“Yes, let’s.”
“I researched to find out if you need an additional permit for the canopy. Turns out you’re okay since it’s a rental. It’ll be put up and taken down the same day.”
“Pity the guys who have to do that.”
“Right. And the ones who have to set up 150 white wooden chairs in the sand, and so on. But that’s what the fine folks at Stages Event Planning do. They won’t mind.” I paused and looked over my notes. “Now, let’s get practical. Have you picked out your shoes?”
“Yes, they’re darling.”
“Not high heels, I hope. Heels and sand don’t mix.”
“Good. And you’ll be glad you decided to use a fabric aisle runner. It’ll keep your toes cool.”
I glanced back through my notes. “I know you’ve probably already considered this, but wear your hair up.”
“Oh, I plan to.” She swung her long dark hair and it fell over her shoulders. “It’d be a mess if I left it down, especially with the breeze blowing in from the gulf.”
“Right. An updo is a polished look and it’ll keep you cool and tidy all night long. Are you wearing a veil?”
“I am.” Her eyes really filled with tears as she spoke the words. “You met my Grandpa Hanh. He was married to my Grandma Ling. I’m named after her. She passed away years ago.” Ling’s eyes flooded with tears and I handed her a tissue from my purse. “I’m wearing Grandma Ling’s veil, the one she wore the day she married Grandpa Hanh in Vietnam.”
“Whoa.” I nodded as I thought that through. “That should make your parents happy.”
“I’m more concerned about making Grandpa happy. He’s the only one who’s been genuinely easy throughout this whole process. He seems to have my interests at heart more than any of the other do.” Her words drifted off, and then she whispered, “It’s always been that way. He’s a gentle soul.”
“Well, I’m sure your parents will come around once they see how beautiful it all is. I love the color palette you and Darian have chosen. Simple. Nothing fussy.”
She seemed to perk up at these words. “Yes. And the flowers will really make it pop. I couldn’t resist using corals and soft greens. It’s going to be so pretty.”
“Mm-hmm.” I paused to take another sip of my peach tea, enjoying its sweetness. “I’m so glad you guys decided on sunset. Timing things right so that the sun isn’t in everyone’s eyes is going to be key. If you want great photos, I mean. You want to get great shots of you two, not just pictures of the sun going down.”
“I can hardly wait to see the pictures. I can imagine it all in my mind and it’s going to be glorious.” She squeezed her eyes shut and a dreamy expression came over her. Her eyes popped open. “If the bugs don’t eat us up.”
The waitress appeared at this very moment, salads in hand. “Bugs?” she asked. “You saw a bug?”
“Not here,” I assured her. “Someplace else.”
“Whew.” The waitress set the salads down and then refilled our tea glasses. “Thought I was going to have to call the manager.”
When she left I turned my attention back to Ling. “The bugs won’t be a problem, I promise. Darian and D.J. talked after our meeting the other day and have come up with a plan that involves citronella lamps on Tiki torches.”
“Hmm. I guess that fits the theme.”
“Definitely. And no worries about pesticides making your guests sick.”
“Well, that’s nice.” She took a bite of her salad and delirious look passed over her face. “Mmm. Yummy.”
“Okay, next on my list. . .you might think about setting up a shoe station for your guests.”
“A shoe station?” She chased down her bite of salad with a swig of peach tea. “Huh?”
“Just an area where they can swap out their shoes with some flip-flops. Maybe just a large bucket of water. . .a few towels hung over a bench. Something like that to wash their feet.”
“Interesting idea. I’ll give it some thought.” She stirred her salad around with her fork. “This is getting complicated, isn’t it? What were we thinking, getting married on the beach?”
“You were thinking that you and Darian want to do what’s best for you. . .and ultimately the one thing that will make your ceremony and reception memorable.”
“My father is paying for all of this, though.” She laughed. “Trying to picture the look on his face if I tell him he has to buy a hundred and fifty pairs of flip-flops in a variety of sizes for our wedding guests. Might have to cover that one, myself.”
“Or forego the idea. It’s just a suggestion.” I paused and double-checked my notes. “But since we’re talking about the comfort and convenience of the guests, I would suggest a last minute addition—a refreshment table on the beach with ice water, lemonade or something like that. That way they can stay cool while waiting for the ceremony to begin.”
“Okay. I’ll put Mama in charge of that. She’ll enjoy having a project.”
“Great.” I gave her a tender look. “I know you want to make your parents feel included. That’s so important, especially when you’re marrying outside of their familiarity. Culture clashes can leave the parents feeling out of sorts. But we’ll keep working together to find a way to get everyone to link arms.”
She nodded, and I saw a hint of concern in her eyes. “It’ll be okay. . .right, Bella?”
“Right. I’ve done hundreds of weddings, and most of them end up being far less stressful on the day of than all the days, weeks, months and years of planning.”
“Most of them?”
“Nearly all.”
“Well, that gives me hope.” She laughed and then took a sip of her tea. “Because I’m looking forward to a stress-free day, come July 30th.”
“Which is why you hired me.” I gave her a confident nod. “You just rest easy, okay? And let me do the tough stuff.”
“Tough stuff.” She moved her fork around inside of her salad bowl, poking at the lettuce. “I’m afraid Darian and I have given you more than your usual share.”
“Ooh, no. I’ve seen tougher. You should’ve seen how chaotic things got when Hannah and Drew got married.”
“Our photographers?”
“Yep. Something to do with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope. And don’t even get me started on the chaos that ensued when Scarlet and Armando got married. And Cassia’s wedding? A hot mess. Until the big day, I mean.”
“Obviously things worked out okay.” Ling smiled. “They’re happily married now and she’s doing my cake.”
“Mm-hmm. Her wedding, though? It was crazy. And my second wedding was, too.”
“D.J. is your second husband?” Ling looked genuinely shocked by this. “I had no idea!”
“No, no.” A ripple of laughter worked its way up to the surface. “Our first wedding was a whirlwind, so we did a vow renewal service when I was just shy of eight months pregnant with the twins.”
“Oh my.”
“A bigger ‘oh my’ than you know. The twins were born that same night.”
“Whoa.” Ling put her hand up in the air. “Okay, okay, I give up! This isn’t the toughest wedding you’ve coordinated.”
“Not by a long shot. But it’s going to be one of my most memorable, because the bride is rapidly becoming one of my favorite people.”
“Ah, thanks, Bella.” She took a little nibble of chicken.
“I really mean it. You’re one of the kindest, most compassionate brides I’ve ever worked with. If anyone deserves her special day, you do.” I lifted my tea glass and gestured for her to do the same. As we clinked our glasses together in a toast, I saw the most amazing look in her eyes—complete and total peace.
Yep, my work here was done, at least for today.
Now, to deliver on my promises. I’d have to pull off the perfect wedding for this extra-special bride-to-be. And somehow, I’d have to do it without further upsetting any of the family members.
For now, though, I just wanted to sit still in this peaceful garden room and enjoy a glass of peach tea and a very plain salad with a new friend.
CHAPTER FIVE
She Knows Me Too Well
Exactly one week before the Pappas-Nguyen wedding was to take place, Galveston Island celebrated a yearly tradition called Summer on The Strand. My family’s restaurant, Parma John’s, sat smack-dab in the middle of The Strand, directly across the street from Super Gyros, the Pappas family restaurant, so we took this summer celebration very seriously.
On this special day Galveston’s children paraded up and down The Strand wearing their colorful bat
hing suits, beach floaties, goggles, flippers, fins, and the like. Afterwards, the throngs of people, tourists and locals alike, disappeared into restaurants—like ours—for sustenance. Most business owners along The Strand counted on this day for a huge jump in sales.
Not that Parma John’s or Super Gyros really needed more customers, like in the old days. No, thanks to a television show patterned after our two restaurants—a show that starred Hollywood hottie Brock Benson—most people in America now knew about Galveston’s most famous eating establishments. Still, other businesses along The Strand thrived on days like today and we did all we could to make the event fun and safe for all attendees.
In spite of the overwhelming heat, folks gravitated out of their shops to watch the parade go by. Police Chief Nguyen headed up the show, marching with a police baton in hand, goggles over his eyes and fins on his feet, quite a contrast to his pristine uniform and shiny badge. In that moment, I saw a lighter side of the man. Anyone willing to put on fins and goggles and march down The Strand had to have at least one ounce of imagination.
My kiddos laughed with glee as several of the island’s older women came down the street pretending to do a synchronized swimming routine. I had to laugh, myself, since Mama and Aunt Rosa were in the group. Turned out Aunt Rosa was pretty coordinated. And her old-timey bathing suit really took the cake.
Mmm. Cake. I’d have to check in with Scarlet to see how Ling’s wedding cake plans were coming along.
The synchronized swimming act was followed by a float carrying our island’s star swimmer, Eva Pappas, who wore a cute one-piece. Nearly a dozen swimming medals hung around her neck. She raised them triumphant and waved as she went past. The crowd roared with excitement. From across the street, her parents let out a whoop.
“That’s our girl!” Mr. Pappas hollered.
The parade came to its eventual end, as all good things do. D.J. and I were just gathering up our children to take them into Parma John’s when something distracted him. He pointed toward the front of the confectionary where a larger-than-life woman stood in the open doorway, waving at us.