Lavender Haze

Chapter 13

I am unavailable for anyone who's not directly related to me (mom or Dan), my best friend since the tender age of two (Rafael), or whose wedding is not happening in the next twelve hours (Renee) from Thursday night. I only have time or the mental capability to cater to Renee's needs. She's gone through a little spiral in the last two days when her youngest daughter came up with the flu and she's gone in full Damage Control Mom Mode and she's missed the spa appointment I booked for her yesterday and straight-out refused to leave the house today when I begged her to let me take care of her. As far as brides go, no one is as difficult to deal with as a mother with a sick kid depending on her. On Thursday, I show up to Renee's house with a masseuse in tow, a Santa Claus' bag worth of cold drugs that probably put me on some FBI's list as a potential meth producer, and a bottle of wine I shove directly into Renee's hands when she, looking very surprised and frazzled, opens the door to her apartment in The Village.

"This was Chelsea, wasn't it?" She asks.

"We teamed up," I say, smiling. "Now have at least one hour to yourself. Do not make me ask twice."

By Friday morning, Kathy, Renee's previously sick daughter, is up on her feet. She hasn't exactly recovered, but she's putting quite the show to convince her mother she has. You can tell how much this day means to them, how much making their mother happy is a priority, and this is what's going to make this day a success. Not the flower arrangements or the DJ or the three-tiered chocolate-peanut cake. It'll be Kathy, Marie, Rosie and Chelsea.

We're just on time with our schedule, and I only take my eyes off Renee when Chelsea threatens her to restrain her hands and force-feed her the poppy seed bagel if she doesn't start eating on her own. I check my messages to make sure Rafael is already at the recreational centre where the ceremony will take place, and, of course, he's already sent me several texts to update his progresses. I need to go and join him for the final touches, but I can't leave until I'm sure the hairstylist and makeup artist are here.

They arrive eighteen minutes later than promised, and I'm going to have words with them once the day is over, but for now, I only have time to instruct Renee to relax – for the ten billionth time in the past twenty-five minutes – and jump on a cab.

As I'm running through my notes for the day, the notification of a new text pops up.

Menu testing. 7.30PM. Sunday 15th. St. James Hotel.

It's a text from Mila, who's not one for small talk or pleasantries or even basic manners, most days, which is helpful when you want to go straight to the point. Sometimes, though, it makes me question whether she's human enough to understand feelings. Not that's any of my business anyway.

I usually religiously uphold my promise of having time just for my brides and grooms on the twenty-four hours prior to their wedding and the consequent day itself, but ignoring Mila is not actually an option. She'd probably send a PI to track me down and hand-deliver the same message, and then a mafia enforcer to kneecap me for even trying to pay no attention to her.

I've forwarded a list of possible caterers four days ago, and she's been on radio silence about it before yesterday morning, obliterating my vow to only have time for Renee and her needs (thankfully, Renee has been law maintenance ever since I've met her), demanding that I set up a testing with each caterer from this Sunday on. Which I did, because as already said, Mila doesn't get ignored and I told her I was going to get her everything she wanted. I'm just surprised she thinks she needs to remind me of the meeting.

I'll see you then, I type, then return in my Renee Bubble.

When I finally get to the recreational centre, I'm half hour late, but the place looks breath-taking. Dan is a wonderful number two when he decides he wants to be one. I spot him talking to the centre's admin and, giving him a kiss on the cheek, relieve him of his interim duties.

It's three fifteen when Isaac, Renee's fiancé, takes his place at the altar. Although I think he's the most boring man alive, Renee loves him, and he genuinely loves her and supports her and adores the girls just like any dorky, boring stepdad should. When Renee makes her entrance, ten minutes later, preceded by her four daughters, he's already weeping like a baby. And his tears make my eyes well up, too. Renee is such a beautiful soul, a woman who's sacrificed most of herself and surrendered her own needs and desires in order to support her family as a widow, and I have so much love and respect for her and what she's accomplished. I'm so relieved she didn't give up on love. And I'm grateful to be part of this special, magical day for them.

The ceremony goes smoothly, with a few hiccups because no one can stop crying when Isaac pledges his love to Renee like a poet to his muse, and maybe he's a pill, but a very sweet one who's going to take good care of a gentle soul like Renee.

Things hit it off with a rocky start at the reception because the caterer forgets about Isaac's gluten allergy and I mentally add him to my list of people who needs to have a new one ripped, but once the alcohol starts flowing, everyone loosens up, including me (I get sympathy-drunk, as I never drink on the job, even though I'm not a neurosurgeon, like someone reminded me). After the girls perform a dance they used to when they were kids – leaving both Isaac and Renee tearfully chuckling – it's time for the speeches. When Chelsea finishes her toast thanking me for everything I've done for their family, I'm practically bawling inside, though I simply nod curtly and mouth a thank you. At the end of the night, Renee wraps me in a hug so fierce she reshapes my kidneys, but I appreciate the affection. She profusely, sloppily thanks me again and promises me that if any of her kids are ever getting married, the gig is mine. I chuckle at her drunken promise and tell her it was my honour to make her dream day come true. Isaac has to forcefully remove her from me after she start happy-sobbing again.

Once we've seen everyone out of the recreation centre, I grab a bottle of wine, three clean glasses, and collapse on a table with Rafael and Dan to cheer to our success.