Matrimonial Merriment by Nicky James

Author:Nicky James [James, Nicky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Aslan

Saturday, November 18th: One month and five days before the wedding…

“You booked a private room at the restaurant?”

“Yes, Quaid.” I flipped stations, not taking my eyes off the TV while Quaid paced, binder in hand, checking and rechecking to ensure we hadn’t forgotten something crucial. Every day since he’d been relieved of wedding duties, he’d demanded updates so he knew we were taking care of things. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than having him participate.

“For how many people?”

“Twelve. Amelia isn’t bringing the kids to dinner. Chris’s parents are taking them.”

“But they’ll be at the rehearsal, right? They have to be.”

“Yes, Quaid. They are the ring bearer and flower girl. They will be there.”

“And you called Barnabus?”

“No, I went to his house and exhausted myself, making him understand he had to be there for the rehearsal. I even offered to pick him up. He said his granddaughter, Megan, will bring him.”

“You put it on his calendar?”

“Yes, Quaid. Are you sure about him?” I asked, turning my attention from the TV.

“Yes.” The answer was definitive. Quaid would not be swayed when it came to the elderly man. “And you called the venue to be sure we could use the space for an hour for the dress rehearsal?”

“Yes, Quaid. You act like Torin and I are incompetent.”

He deadpanned.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “We get an hour and a half for the dress rehearsal. Thursday the twenty-first from five until six thirty. The restaurant is booked for seven. I also ensured we had the right number of rooms booked for the guests staying on the wedding night.”

“You got us the King’s Suite?”

“Yes, Quaid.”

“Stop ‘yes, Quaiding’ me.”

“Stop with the incessant questions.”

“No. If you won’t let me help, then you get to suffer like this instead. Did you confirm if the smaller ballroom at Strongwind is big enough for all our guests for the reception?”

“Yes, Quaid. It’s plenty big enough, and I booked it.” I settled on a mindless sitcom, not that I had any hope of watching it with Quaid wearing a strip out of the carpet in front of the TV and worriedly checking his list like he was Santa Claus on the night before Christmas.

Operation Reduce Quaid’s Stress was not happening.

My nettlesome fiancé, who was fast wearing me out, stopped in front of the TV, blocking my view. He peered over the top of the binder and pursed his lips.

“What?”

He hesitated.

“For the love of god, Quaid. What?”

“About the food. Are you sure—”

“It’s all ordered. Again, Torin and I miraculously figured it all out without your help.” I waved for him to move out of the way. “You make a better door than a window.”

He remained in place. “And?”

“And what?”

“The food.”

I sighed, sinking lower on the couch and pinching the bridge of my nose. “The selections include beef Wellington, roasted chicken, and fresh Atlantic salmon because I know it’s your favorite. We don’t have any vegetarians coming, so I opted out of the vegetarian selection. All dishes come with potatoes or rice and a choice of vegetables.

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