Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [21]
Cici shook her head in disbelief. “And to think of all those years I wasted having an actual job.”
Lindsay added uncertainly, “Of course I’ve never really designed a wedding before. I don’t know how to begin to charge her.”
“You begin at a hundred dollars an hour plus fifty percent over the cost of the supplies and flowers,” Paul told her, and when she stared at him, he assured her blithely, “It’s standard.”
“Boy, am I in the wrong business,” Lindsay murmured.
Paul agreed. “Aren’t we all?”
Bridget’s eyes were shining. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about doing this? Planning menus, creating dishes, being paid for my food?” She threw her arms around Paul in an embrace. “Thank you!”
He laughed as he hugged her back. “If anyone deserves to have their dreams come true, it’s you three.”
“I wish you could stay” Lindsay said, as she gave and received her hug.
“So do I.” He sighed. “The only thing I dread more than the three-hour drive is getting back to the city at the end of it.”
Cici embraced him with one arm and kissed his cheek. “Give Derrick our love. How is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with you?”
Paul gave a small frustrated shake of his head. “Who knows? I never see him anymore. He works fifteen hours a day, and when he’s home he’s at the computer with the online art auctions. I couldn’t even get him away for a weekend in Vermont, never mind a real vacation this year.”
“This recession has been tough on the arts,” Lindsay said sympathetically.
“He had to let most of his staff go,” Paul confided, “so he’s doing almost everything himself now. He’s afraid if he hangs the Closed sign on the door for even one minute before normal operating hours it will mean the end of the gallery. I say, so what? It’s not like he hasn’t made a bloody fortune with the thing. Let it go, retire, buy a sailboat...” He grinned, and chucked Lindsay under the chin. “Spend more time in the country.”
“You could take your own advice,” Cici reminded him.
“You never know,” he replied. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his perfectly pressed khakis, he gazed over the sun-strewn landscape with its colorful blossoms and majestic old trees, the sweeping meadow and misty mountains beyond. In the distance, the mudled sound of clucking chickens, trilling birds, splashing fountains, and nothing else. His expression was tranquil and wistful. “Every time I come here... you just never know.”
There came a distant “Yoo-hoo!” from the vicinity of the front of the house, where the car was parked, and Paul roused himself from his reverie with a dry smile and a tilt of his head. “Meantime, the princesses await. Thank you for the incredible lunch and the exceptional company, as always.” He blew them a kiss as he left. “I’ll be in touch!”
The three of them followed him to the front and stood on the steps, waving, as he drove away.
“Wow,” said Lindsay when they were gone. “How about that, huh?”
“The bride is a little strange,” Cici said, “but she really seems to like the place. And the mother is nice.”
“They met Rodrigo and Rebel,” Lindsay agreed, “and they still want to go through with it. They must be really desperate.”
“A wedding, right here at Ladybug Farm,” Bridget said happily. “I mean, we talked about it, but did you ever think we’d actually do it?”
Cici laughed a little, shaking her head. “Wait until I tell Lori. Remember how she had this all planned out before she went away to UVA? The jams, the vineyard, and now the special events. Just like she imagined it.”
Lindsay stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, grinning. “We might be slow to catch on, but we do catch on.”
“You know,” Cici said thoughtfully “at eight thousand a pop—and I’m not saying we should, mind you—but if we did two weddings a month, May through September, not even counting the catering or the decorating...”
“We could plant the rest of the vineyard,” Lindsay said.
“Not to mention pay off the small business loan,” Bridget added.
“And Noah’s college.”
“We could be solvent.”
“Well, eventually, maybe,” Cici said, and she smiled.