The Wedding Planner

4

I was in the middle of arranging flowers when he called me. Hydrangeas for the ceremony and daisies for the reception to compliment the white and pastel colour palette. The hydrangeas would be bunched along the aisle just as Claire wanted. We had met three times already, partly for the wedding and partly to gossip. I loved my new friend, for once Twinky was not the only thing keeping me company. In fact, I suspect she might've gotten jealous.

My phone vibrated frantically in the depths of my jean pocket, it was 10am and I was sluggish from the night before when Claire and I had gone out for drinks, so when I saw his name on the screen I assumed it was just my hungover mind confusing me.

'Hello?'

'Hi Quinn, it's Mark.'

'Hi Mark, how are you?'

'Not too bad, yourself?'

'Yeah I'm good thanks,' I replied, growing tired of the small talk.

'That's great, that's great. So, look I was wondering whether we could meet, to maybe go over some of the wedding plans.'

I was confused, this was normally Claire's forte, and she had expressed many times how disinterested Mark was with the whole process. I'm surprised he even remembered my name from the short yet distasteful interaction we had 2 weeks ago.

'Um, sure, that's fine. Where would you and Claire like to meet?'

'Actually, it'll just be me. I'm actually in the area, I was thinking I could pop by yours maybe and we just discuss things there.'

Now I was really confused – what could he want to discuss without Claire being there? I wasn't one for home visits, slightly because then clients would see the true extent of how pathetic I really was. A single cat lady living by herself, her work being the only time she gets to interact with humans. I was about to refuse, but Claire and Mark were special, I could make an exception.

'Sure, sounds great. When were you thinking of coming by?'

'Anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour, is that alright?'

'Perfect, you know my address, see you then,'

'Great, oh and Quinn –'

'Yes?'

'Don't tell Claire,' he cut the call abruptly. Bewildered, my only guess was that he was planning to surprise Claire in some way. Maybe with a violinist playing her favourite song at the reception, or a surprise guest to be flown in. I looked to Twinky for reassurance, she glared back.

40 minutes had gone by and I sat eagerly awaiting my guest. I had tidied the hoard of an apartment I lived in, and now any trance of my obsessions were gone, all that remained was a nice sane girl and her cat. I was stroking Twinky to soothe my nerves, she purred back at me lovingly and sat on my lap – black fur consuming my grey leggings that I had thrown on. Along with this, I was wearing a pink crop jumper and my UGG sliders, freshly painted white toes were poking out, and I felt as if I had put in adequate effort to look presentable for my client. My hair was brushed back into a slick bun, stubborn coils poking out of the style. I applied lip gloss to my lips and mascara to my eyes, and for once in my life, I thought I looked quite attractive. Then I heard the knock at the door. Mark would have been the first man to step foot in my apartment that wasn't my absent father. It's a shame that the first man I have over is the husband of my best friend and my client, I would much rather John. I opened the door quickly to be met by Mark's seemingly permanent stare. His eyes were fixed on my own for a moment, and I wondered if he might say anything.

'Quinn, so nice to see you,' we went in for a hug, his hands wrapped around my waist. I smiled back to him, from Claire's stories you wouldn't imagine him to be so friendly.