Page 33 of The Wedding Run (The Wedding Letter #1)

Libby

M y thoughts linger on the conversation with Stacy as I arrange tables and chairs around The Brew on Friday afternoon.

I’ve been looking for a chance to say something to Luke about his sister, but I haven’t found the right moment or even the right words.

Maybe there aren’t any. Perhaps nothing should be said.

But I understand him better now. I can’t imagine how it feels to lose a sibling. I would be heartbroken to lose one of my sisters.

Luke and I carry a table to the front window, where the wedding cake will be displayed. Then, he goes to unload the supplies, filling the refrigerator with cream, milk, and everything else he needs for wedding lattes.

Andrea bursts through the front door while I steam wrinkles out of a lacy tablecloth. The bell over the door jangles a warning instead of its usual pleasant welcome.

“Here comes the bride,” I chirp.

She stops, looking forlorn and defeated. "It’s over. It’s all over.”

I pull out a chair for her. “What’s happened?”

She sinks down, her limbs askew. “The bakery canceled.”

I grab my phone and start dialing. “There must be a mistake. I spoke to them yesterday.”

“They called and said they overbooked. Plus, I haven't been able to reach the photographer. The wedding is ruined. And it hasn’t even started yet. We should have gone to Vegas like Taylor wanted.” Panic escalates in her voice.

Roxie rushes over. “Don’t you worry. I can make scones for the wedding.”

“But it won’t be the cake I imagined!” Andrea crumples into tears, and I wrap my arms around her.

“It’s going to be all right,” I promise, even though I have no idea if I can deliver. I need to talk to Elle.

The bell above the door clangs as my father walks in.

“Dad!” I hug Andrea and whisper, “Give me a minute, and we’ll figure everything out. I promise.”

Roxie slides into my place to comfort Andrea.

I rush toward my dad. “I didn’t know you were still in town.”

“Been meaning to call you, Sugarbug.” He hugs me but then moves toward the counter. Roxie is calming Andrea, so he has to wait.

I trail after him. “I saw you at the train depot.”

“Oh, uh… Uh-huh.” Dad shifts his gaze away from me to glance at the menu board.

“If you’re still dealing with the aftermath of the wedding, let me help.”

He leans over the counter as if someone might be hiding behind it. “Can I get some coffee?”

“Dad,” I admonish him for his impatience. “We’re in a crisis here.”

“Sure thing,” Roxie calls out as she hurries behind the counter.

“There a problem?” Dad asks, tilting his head toward Andrea, who sniffles into a tissue. Having raised three girls, he’s not immune to female tears, but he can also remain distant.

I hurry to the forlorn bride. “Andrea, I’ve already secured another photographer, and I know a cake decorator. I’ll see if she’s available. Okay?”

“You said if . What if she can’t? It’s such short notice. How will we ever?—”

“Let me text before we panic.”

I text Elle and Charlie: Mayday!!! I need a wedding cake and a photographer by 6am tomorrow morning!

I place a comforting hand on Andrea’s arm. “They’ll let me know as soon as possible.”

Dad walks toward us, holding to-go cups in both hands.

“How nice,” I say, reaching for the cup that will hopefully fuel me through this crisis, but he dodges, angling toward the door.

“Call you later, Sugarbug.”

My gaze follows him through the plate glass window. Delia waits for him at the curb. Alarm bells go off in my head as Dad hands her what I assumed was my coffee.

“How sweet!” Andrea says, following my gaze. “Looks like someone’s in love!”

“What?!” I stammer.

My phone dings. Andrea eyes my phone like it’s a lottery ticket.

I glance at the screen. “The cake decorator is loading supplies and heading our way. Now, dry those tears and go enjoy your rehearsal dinner. I’ll take care of everything.”

“I can’t believe it!” She throws her arms around me, then rushes out the door in a flurry of emotional relief.

Which sends the rest of us into a frenzied whirlwind of action.