Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [30]
Cici pulled up the carpet to expose the same heart pine floors that were in the living room. Lindsay painted the room pale yellow and Cici built shelves that she painted gloss white. They brought in a pretty Oriental rug and a comfy wing chair that Lindsay and Bridget upholstered in ivory silk with white brocade birds embossed into the pattern. Bridget hung a green birdcage in the corner, and sheers over the windows. An electrician brought in extra outlets and the Internet cable.
They found a nice big desk in unfinished pine at a yard sale, and whitewashed and sealed it to match the rest of the decor. They hung photographs in an attractive wall grouping of the three of them on shared vacations, and on the opposite wall, for a punch of color, Lindsay had framed one of her paintings, of a giant red poppy. Then they proudly brought in and set up their home computer.
Cici had spent most of her life in offices—her real estate office, her home office, other people’s offices—and she wasn’t that wild about having an office at Ladybug Farm. But even she had to admit the room was welcoming and attractive, as well as practical. And the best part was that, since it was sure to be the least used room in the house, the door could remain closed most of the time.
But of course, that was before Lori set up the website, which required constant monitoring, and Bridget’s blog, which Bridget preferred to work on from her laptop, which required a wireless router. Soon all of their bookkeeping was transferred to the computer, as well as their correspondence. An extension telephone line had been brought in, because they couldn’t hear the kitchen phone ring from the office. And now there was the fax.
The machine began to buzz and roll out paper, and Cici clicked Reply on the e-mail she had barely finished reading. just received the fax; returning it to you ASAP, she typed. Hopefully the eighth time will be the charm!
Lindsay stood at the door behind her. “What do you think about this?”
Cici pushed Send and said gloomily “Her husband is a lawyer. I’m telling you, we should have thought this through. Why am I doing this, anyway?”
“Eight thousand dollars,” Lindsay reminded her. “Look at this.”
Cici turned. Lindsay stood at the doorway with several lengths of pale printed calico draped over her arm—one pink, one blue on white, one yellow. Spread atop them she had arranged a square of Battenberg lace.
“What is that?” Cici asked.
“Remember all that fabric we found packed away in the attic?”
“Oh, right,” Cici recalled. “You and Bridget were going to make curtains for the guest rooms.”
“Right. But there wasn’t enough of one color. There is, however,” she pronounced triumphantly, “enough to make tablecloths. And look, with a white Battenberg topper to tie it all together ... what do you think?”
Cici said uncertainly, “It’s pretty. But how many tablecloths do we need, anyway?”
“I’m thinking ten.”
Cici’s eyebrows shot up. “Ten!”
“Four at each table, with one large one to accommodate the wedding party, which would of course be decorated differently.”
“Oh. The wedding.” Cici leaned back in her chair. “Of course.” And then her gaze sharpened. “Wait. This started out as heavy hors d’oeuvres only. Then it was a buffet.”
“With escort cards,” Lindsay reminded her.
“So, now it’s official? We’re doing a sit-down dinner?”
Lindsay shrugged. “People have to have some place to sit, even if they’re only eating hors d’oeuvres. Anyway, it’s up to Bridget what kind of dinner they have. I’ve got enough trouble keeping up with what I’m responsible for. So.” She held up her arm with the fabric draping