The Wedding Planner. Millie Criswell
nursing care necessary to handle her mother’s illness.
Stepping into the spacious black-and-white-tiled foyer of the brick building, which had been designed to look like Jefferson’s Monticello, she waved to Flo Welch, the gray-haired receptionist seated at the entry station, and skirted around Henry Mullins’s dachshund, who had escaped the confines of the old man’s room again, with the hope, no doubt, of making it out the front door this time. Henry suffered from Alzheimer’s, and he wasn’t able to provide the dog with the kind of attention it craved.
Proceeding down the wide hallway, whose soft yellow walls always made her hungry for her mother’s lemon meringue pie, she whistled at the colorful macaw perched outside Mrs. Hammond’s suite, waved at the old lady seated in the doorway, then stepped next door to her mother’s room.
Pets were an integral part of the nursing home’s policy, and residents were encouraged to keep one. Meredith had yet to convince her mother that a puppy or kitten would be a good companion for her. Louise Baxter, though sick in body, still had a stubborn streak a mile wide running through her, and she’d never been overly fond of any of the many strays Meredith had adopted while growing up.
Entering the suite, she noted the middle-aged woman had one eye on the TV screen and the other on the clock resting on the nightstand beside her antique brass bed.
The nursing care facility did its best to make every patient’s room as homey as possible from the red and gold chintz curtains at the window to the colorful braided rug covering the linoleum floor. In an attempt to make her feel more comfortable, many of the furnishings in the suite came from Louise’s own home. Bric-a-brac and dozens of photos lined the windowsills and occasional tables, reminders of happier times in the Baxter family.
Meredith was a few minutes late and knew her mother was sure to comment, as Adam Morgan had commented this morning. She wasn’t disappointed. “Thought you might be coming by, Merry, though I expected you a bit earlier. Is everything all right?”
She kissed her mother’s cheek and worried at how pale she looked. The older woman’s condition seemed to deteriorate with every passing day. Only a heart transplant could prevent the inevitable. But Louise’s health insurance didn’t cover it, and Meredith didn’t have the resources to pay for the expensive operation and recovery period. The resulting guilt weighed heavily upon her slender shoulders.
Taking a seat on the love seat, she kicked off her high heels and wiggled her toes, emitting a sigh of relief, and wondered again for the hundredth time why she insisted on torturing herself for the sake of fashion. She should have followed the lead of that actress who wore tennis shoes with her business and evening attire.
“Fran Weaver and her daughter came in for a fitting of Heather’s wedding gown,” Meredith finally explained. “They got into a huge argument about the headpiece.” She screwed up her face in disgust as she recalled the unpleasant incident. “I thought at one point they might actually come to blows. Heather was totally exasperated at her mother’s insistence that she wear a rhinestone tiara instead of a traditional tulle veil.” Fortunately, Meredith had managed to convince Fran that the tiara would not be appropriate with Heather’s dotted-swiss gown. But only after Heather had burst into tears and locked herself in the dressing room.
“Frances always was one to put on airs,” the older woman said, her tone clearly disapproving as she brushed graying wisps of hair from her ashen cheeks.
Frances Weaver had been one of Louise’s cleaning customers after Henry Baxter’s death had left his wife and daughter almost destitute. Though she’d worked hard to provide for Meredith, Louise had felt shame at having to clean the toilets of women who had once been her friends.
“What else happened today?” Her mother enjoyed listening to the day’s events, eagerly awaiting even the smallest tidbit of gossip. Meredith tried to provide a steady stream of news to take Louise’s mind off her illness and the loneliness that resulted from residing in the nursing home.
“Randall got an A on his criminal law test.”
Louise’s smile couldn’t have been prouder had she been the law student’s mother. “I know. He came by to visit earlier and brought me a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies. Wasn’t that sweet? He’s such a nice boy.”
Meredith knew what to expect next, and she braced herself for it. Her mom made the same speech at least once a week. “I don’t know why you don’t think about dating him, Merry. A girl could do a lot worse.”
Knowing Randall’s dating preferences ran in a different direction from her own, Meredith smiled patiently at the suggestion. “We’re just friends, Mom. I’ve told you that before.”
“I want to see you married and settled before I die, honey. I don’t want to go to my grave knowing you’ll be left all alone.”
“Now, Mom, you know I’m not going to let you die, so you needn’t worry about that,” Meredith said, wishing she really had that kind of divine power. At this point she’d settle for a magic wand—one she could wave and, with a flick of her wrist, cure her mother’s heart ailment, find herself a Prince Charming and locate Adam Morgan a bride, so she could get the annoying man out of her hair.
“I’ll get married in my own good time, and you’ll be around to spoil the heck out of your grandchildren.”
At her mother’s sharp gasp, Meredith followed her gaze to the small television set suspended from a ceiling bracket in the far corner of the room. Adam was being interviewed on a segment of the local news about his plan to wed.
A handsomer man did not exist on the face of the planet, Meredith was sure of it, and she tried to ignore how the sound of his deep voice had the power to send tingles up and down her spine.
“What on earth is that odious man up to now?” Louise asked, not bothering to hide her dislike.
She fought the urge to groan. Her mother blamed the Morgans for her husband’s death due to black lung disease, a condition he’d developed while working in the Morgan coal mines. Meredith had hoped to postpone the discussion of her newest client until she could figure out a way to break the news gently to her mother. Only now that wouldn’t be possible.
“Isn’t it a bit unorthodox to plan a wedding without a bride, Mr. Morgan?” Bill Simmons of WNPB News asked.
“A wedding? He’s getting married?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Louise added, “Who would marry such a man? The poor woman must really be hard up.”
“Uh, Mom, there’s something we need to talk about—” But before Meredith could elaborate, Adam Morgan took the words right out of her mouth.
“I’ve hired Best Laid Plans to organize everything, from the bridal selection to the reception. Together we’re planning a big event to mark my departure from bachelorhood to happily married man.”
Adam was smooth, she’d give him that. She only wished she had his facility with words, especially now, since her mother was staring at her as if she were Judas Iscariot in the flesh.
“How could you, Meredith? You know how I feel about the Morgans. They killed your father—they ruined our lives.”
Louise Baxter’s face was unnaturally flushed, and Meredith knew that any kind of excitement or stress wasn’t good for her. “I was hoping to prepare you, Mom. I didn’t know Morgan would be interviewed so quickly.” She crossed to the bed, plumping the foam pillows behind the ailing woman’s back. “Now take a deep breath and calm down, or I’ll ring for the nurse to give you a sedative.”
Despite the obstinate set to her chin, Louise did as instructed, much to Meredith’s relief. “I don’t understand any of this, Merry.”
“It’s just business, Mom. I needed the money that Morgan was willing to pay. I’ve got inventory to purchase, payroll to make, and Adam Morgan’s offer was too good to refuse. After all, I do plan weddings for a living, and he is getting married.”
“Rich people always get what