The Vineyard at Painted Moon by Susan Mallery

Author:Susan Mallery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2020-11-16T13:47:51+00:00

* * *

“I don’t know,” Barbara said, with a sigh. “A DJ seems so tacky.”

“We can have a live band,” Stephanie murmured, trying to hang on to her patience as they entered hour two of wedding planning that afternoon. “It’s up to you. However, they take up a lot more floor space and you don’t have as much control over what they play or how they sound. It’s your call, Mom.”

Stephanie hadn’t been sure her mother would want her to handle the event after their most recent encounter, but Barbara had sent her an email suggesting a date and time for them to “move things forward” regarding the wedding, so here she was, sitting in her mother’s dining room, notebook in hand.

They’d agreed on the Saturday before Christmas as the date for the event and her mother had decided on the tasting room as the venue.

“Can I hear the bands play? Live?” Barbara asked.

“Live is more of a problem. We’ll have to find out where they’re going to be, then get permission to attend the event. It’s going to take time. I know it seems like we have weeks and weeks, but bands book up early and the holidays are a popular party time.”

Her mother glared at her. “Are you being deliberately difficult?”

“How am I being difficult? I’m doing my best to make sure you get exactly what you want. We can arrange to go listen to two or three bands if that’s important to you, but I’m simply letting you know that by the time you decide, they will probably be booked, if they’re not already.”

“Surely they could change their plans.”

“You mean blow off their other client for you?”

Barbara frowned. “That’s very crude.”

“But accurate.”

They stared at each other. Barbara surprised her by looking away first.

“Fine. Get me the website links for samples and I’ll make a decision in the next few days.” She tapped the menus Stephanie had suggested. “These are awful. How would you even serve soup three ways? It’s ridiculous.”

Stephanie drew in a deep, slow breath, telling herself that she was proud of her menu suggestions, and if her mother didn’t like them, she was a big old doo-doo head.

“The caterer uses small mugs that hold about four ounces each. Obviously they’re not filled to the top, so each serving is between two and three ounces. The presentation is elegant, and the trio makes guests think they’re being treated to something special without it being expensive.”

Her mother pressed her lips together. “Well, I suppose that isn’t a terrible idea.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Her mother’s head snapped up. “Is that sarcasm? Don’t try to sell me on one of your harebrained ideas. Just stick to what’s traditional and we’ll be fine.”

“Harebrained ideas? What are you talking about?”

Her mother waved her hand. “You’re forever coming up with ridiculous plans for the retail space. The café is a classic example. Why would we bother? Just do your job and don’t try to be special.”

Stephanie put down her pad of paper and stared at her mother.

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