Mother of the Bride (18 page)

‘Bit plain!' Amy ventured.

They both liked a cake iced with a wickerwork pattern, and with a few daisies scattered around its tiers.

Bibi went through the book with them. As well as wedding cakes, there were cakes for other occasions. There was a cake wrapped like a present, with a stiff iced bow; a layered white house with a yellow veranda and flowers growing around the door.

‘That was for a new home,' Bibi said.

There were round cakes and square ones. A cake edged in gold, a cake that looked like a pretty hat, a wonderful one like a hot-air balloon, another that was a knitting box full of multicoloured wool.

‘My Aunt Gen loves to knit,' explained Bibi.

Amy adored a cake with blue icing and little surfboards and a marzipan figure on a board on top which reminded her of Dan.

‘That was for my nephew's twenty-first. He had a surf-theme party.'

As they studied the photos they agreed that a cake with three tiers was plenty, and that they liked the option of having mixed tiers.

‘But the biggest one has to be the chocolate,' insisted Amy. ‘That's the one my friends will prefer!'

Mixing the layers was a good idea, as there would also be a tier of the light fruit cake and the top would be a sponge.

Now that was decided, choosing the design was next. Bibi showed them Celtic designs, and intricate lacy patterns. There were iced balloons, trailing ivy, twisting leaf stems, tight rosebuds, hydrangea flowers, daisies and daffodils – one couple had even had a little trail of sheep.

‘The husband is a farmer.' Bibi giggled.

‘It's so hard to choose.' Amy felt totally indecisive as she leafed through the book, studying all Bibi's amazing cakes.

‘Some brides go with the theme of the wedding or their flowers or the colour of the bridesmaids' dresses,' Bibi suggested.

‘I am going to carry roses and the bridesmaids are wearing purple.'

‘Well, maybe not purple roses!' Bibi flicked the pages of the book. ‘What about something like this? A layer of pink roses, with trails of leaves, if that's what you'd like.'

Amy studied a cake which was studded with pretty iced pink roses, with thin wisps of green leaves. Another cake she liked was covered in a pale-pink icing with a neat ring of iced white roses.

‘I like the roses, but I'd like them to be pink and maybe loosely tumbling down one side of the cake.'

‘Bibi, can you do the roses in a different colour?' asked Helen

‘I'll do whatever colour Amy wants.' Bibi smiled.

‘Oh, it's going to be lovely.' Amy was breathless with excitement, imagining their wedding cake covered in roses and Dan and herself cutting the first slice.

‘I'm writing that in for June,' said Bibi. ‘My cakes are all freshly made and it will be ready just before the wedding.'

‘Oh, that sounds wonderful,' Helen said, thanking Bibi. ‘It makes it so much more personal having one of your cakes.'

‘Well, I'm delighted to be making it. I love family weddings, with
all the fuss and fun and glamour! What colour outfit are you wearing, Helen?'

‘I haven't found anything yet,' she admitted. ‘I have been looking . . .'

‘You haven't got your outfit yet, and you're the Mother of the Bride!' Bibi scolded. ‘Honestly, Helen, you need to get your skates on. Most of the shops and their designer departments carry only one or two of the kind of thing you'd want to wear to a daughter's wedding, and, I'm telling you, they are snapped up very fast.'

‘Bibi, don't tell me that!' she said, vowing to drag Fran shopping with her next week.

‘Helen, I'll see you in Maeve's house next weekend. I believe we're all having dinner.'

‘It should be fun,' smiled Helen, grabbing her handbag.

‘Thanks so much, Bibi. We really appreciate you making the cake,' said Amy, her eyes shining as they got up to leave.

‘Mum, thanks so much for helping me with everything,' said Amy as they drove home. ‘I don't know what I'd do without you, as Dan has no interest in half the things I'm trying to organize. It's as if “the wedding” doesn't matter to him!'

‘I'm sure that's not true.' Helen laughed. ‘Dan's like most men, and may not be interested in flowers and cakes and dresses, but I'm sure his heart is very much where it is meant to be, planning for your future together. When your dad and I got married it was all very simple and no fuss; all your dad cared about was trying to get us a roof over our heads, or we'd have ended up living with your granny and granddad, or down in Cork with his parents, which wouldn't have been much fun! He hadn't a clue about what was going on with the wedding plans, but was doing everything he could so we would get a mortgage and buy our first house.'

‘I suppose you're right.' Amy sighed.

‘Let's call in and surprise Mum,' Helen suggested, as they were
only a few minutes' drive from Willow Grove. ‘She'll be dying to hear all your news.'

Helen glanced over at Amy, trying to shake off the slight concern that her daughter's remarks had raised. Things were going fine between Amy and Dan, the wedding was only about three months away, and Amy was probably just a bit tired and excited with it all.

Jess had hopped on the Luas and got off at Stephen's Green. She was meeting Amy for dinner later in Carluccio's and had no intention of driving. One of the main joys of teaching was the holidays, and she had spent all morning repainting her bathroom, which had been a nasty shade of turquoise and was now a lovely pale French grey. It perfectly showed off the old-fashioned white bathroom ware and silver taps. She would love to install a fancy power shower and new tiles, but that would have to wait until next year, as her budget was blown, and there was just so much work to do in the old cottage.

She had treated herself to a cut and a blow-dry and then spent an hour shopping on Grafton Street for something new to wear. Why everyone had to make you feel a freak because you wore a size sixteen or eighteen was beyond her! It was bizarre that all the shops had mostly the same clothes in the same small sizes, and anyone even a fraction larger was frowned on. She had found a great-fitting purple skirt, which showed off her long legs, and although it was a little tight in the waist had impulsively bought it. She was dieting like mad, and hopefully in another month or six weeks it would be perfect on her. Glancing at her phone she realized the time, and headed for the restaurant, where she grabbed a table near the window.

*  *  *

‘Hey, your hair looks great!' Amy enthused, noticing the minute she saw her. ‘You should keep it that length for the wedding.'

‘Thanks.' Jess's hair, when it was long, went wavy – and not romantically, but in a crazy, standing-on-end way that made her look like she hadn't touched a hairbrush.

‘You look great yourself.'

Amy always looked beautiful, and Jess noticed enviously her figure-tight black trousers worn with high-heeled fitted boots and a simple black top with a classic white shirt underneath.

‘We were crazy busy in the office all day, so I've just come straight from work. We are putting in a tender for a big new client account and Norah and I were working on it.'

They ordered wine and decided to share a plate of antipasti, both opting for a pasta main course. Jess was tempted by the rich creamy pasta and chicken special but, thinking of her new skirt and being a bridesmaid, opted for the lower-calorie tomato and basil tagliatelle served with a salad.

‘Did I tell you about the invitations that I am looking at?' Amy asked, producing a few samples from her handbag and passing them to her. ‘The first three are the ones I like best. Which do you prefer?'

Jess studied the three cards. One was plain and simple, classic black and white on expensive gold-edged card. The second had a raised design with Amy and Dan's initials entwined, and the last had a picture of a couple in silhouette, which was kind of different.

‘I like the last one.' She smiled.

‘That's my favourite, too.' Amy beamed. ‘But what do you think of these font styles and sizes?'

She passed Jess a sheaf of pages with the same wedding invitation printed in a variety of ways: curly writing, Celtic style, looking like it was handwritten, Times New Roman.

‘I wouldn't have a clue,' Jess admitted, passing the samples back to Amy.

‘I'm torn between types five and eight,' mused her friend, putting them back into her big handbag. ‘And I'm trying to decide on a colour scheme for the tables and whether we should put a touch of that on the invitations, too.'

Jess shrugged and took some Parma ham and asparagus. It was to die for.

‘Honestly, there is so much to do I can understand why some brides hire wedding planners to do it all for them,' Amy murmured, taking a few olives.

Jess remembered her older sisters' weddings, which seemed just to have happened. Deirdre's had been a big bash held in the local hotel, with every cousin and auntie and uncle imaginable. She herself had been forced to wear an awful pale-pink dress with a big bow at the back. She'd looked like a marshmallow. Her Uncle Jim had got so drunk he had fallen and broken his ankle, and her Auntie Patsy had screamed at her husband Tony about being unfaithful for half an hour just before the bride and groom cut the cake. And then everyone had cried and laughed and sung and danced till all hours of the morning, and her mam had taken to her bed for four days once Deirdre and Shay had gone on their honeymoon.

Her sister Ava had got married only three years ago, and had opted for a wedding in Spain with about sixty guests in a hotel on the beach in Marbella. The photos had been amazing, and they had spent four days in the sun celebrating.

‘Are you listening, Jess?' reminded Amy, dangling paper serviettes in front of her. ‘Which one?'

Over the next few hours all Amy talked about was the wedding!

The flowers . . .

The music . . .

The band . . .

The cake . . .

The speeches . . .

Naming tables . . .

Table places . . .

Jess tried to pretend she was interested, but when Amy began to discuss the colours on the place name-cards she frantically tried to change the conversation. However, unrelenting, Amy kept on and on . . .

Jess ordered a carafe of wine. She needed another glass. How had her best friend become like this? she wondered.

Amy was rabbiting on, all stressed and obsessed with minute details instead of focusing on the fact that she was marrying Daniel. Gorgeous, kind, funny Daniel; if she was ever lucky enough to meet someone like Daniel Quinn herself and get engaged to him she wouldn't give a crap what colour the place name-cards were or print-size the invitations came in!

‘How's Dan?' she asked.

‘Fine. But he wants us to take off and go surfing for Paddy's weekend in Lahinch! It's absolutely impossible when there are literally only a few weeks left to the wedding. There's no way we can go! Then he's got his stag night away with all the lads in Edinburgh, and then there's my hen weekend.'

‘The hen is all in hand,' teased Jess. ‘All I can say is that it is going to be great fun!'

Jess had told Amy they were going to a spa, but had secretly planned something completely different. It would be a hoot. The girls were all up for it, and she'd book two great restaurants, one for the Friday and one for the Saturday night.

‘I'm so looking forward to it,' confessed Amy. ‘The spa and the hotel you booked sound brilliant. It should be so relaxing!'

‘Yes, it's going to be really relaxing.' Jess laughed, trying to keep a straight face.

Mustering her willpower she refused the temptation of gelato
and pannacotta, sipping her wine instead and ordering a frothy cappuccino.

She watched as Amy tucked into a big bowl of chocolate ice cream. How was it Amy never put a pick of weight on despite eating so much?

‘For God's sake, Jess, take a spoonful!' urged Amy, offering her a delicious scoop.

Jess gallantly tried to change the conversation from boring wedding talk to the latest Colin Farrell film that was opening in the cinemas that weekend.

‘That guy Dermot who was in college with us directed it!'

‘That waste of space never turned up for lectures and smelled like a Moroccan bazaar!'

‘Yes. I saw his photo in the paper. He's still got the hair and tatty jeans but he's in Hollywood now, working on some new horror film. A few of the college crowd were thinking of going along to see it.'

‘Honestly, Jess, do you think that I have time to go to the cinema? I doubt I'll see the inside of the multiplex until I get back from my honeymoon. But, talking of the college crowd, these are the ones I plan to invite.'

As they lingered over their coffees Amy went through all the mutual friends they had that she was planning to invite to the wedding.

‘Wow, it's a big crowd you're having!'

‘Of course.' Amy laughed. ‘We both have lots of friends, and then there's the family and relations and the parents' friends, too. Do you think I should put Chloe and Orla on the same table, or am I asking for trouble?' she mused.

Jess rattled her brain. She remembered the girls having a big bust-up about some guy in first-year Law they both went out with.

‘Chloe's back with him, and I heard they're talking engagement.' Amy giggled. ‘But Orla adored him. He was her first love.'

‘Well, I don't think they'll fight at the wedding!' Jess teased.

‘I know, but if Orla has a few glasses of wine she's likely to fling herself at him!'

‘Separate them! Put them as far apart as possible, and put a nice guy on Orla's table.'

‘Jess, do you realize that every single girl I know wants me to put her on a table with a great single guy?' Amy sighed dramatically. ‘Daniel and I are planning a wedding, not a matchmaking service!'