Tears cascaded again. “I don’t know. It’s all just so—”
“So what?” Kinley encouraged.
“It’s all my mother,” Serena whispered miserably. “Everything. The decorations, the menu, the music. This stupid, frilly dress that makes me look like an idiot. I let her railroad me into every decision so there wouldn’t be a fight, and now I hate it. I hate it all.”
“And me?” Chris appeared suddenly from behind Dan, his plain face somber. “Do you hate me, too?”
Serena looked at him with wide, shocked eyes, then burst into tears again.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kinley saw Bonnie guarding the end of the doorway, refusing to allow anyone past. Especially the mother of the bride. “Everyone just go back to the parlor,” Bonnie said firmly. “The bride will be with you when she’s ready. Mr. Sossaman?”
Taking the cue, Clinton stepped forward to take his wife’s arm. “Let’s go back to the parlor, dear. Actually, I wouldn’t mind a photo of just the two of us. When’s the last time we had our picture taken, hmm? Anne, you wouldn’t mind that, would you?”
The voices faded away, leaving Chris and Serena, Kinley and Dan in the hallway. Kinley started to move away, but Serena grabbed her arm, changing from attack mode to clinging. “I don’t know what to do,” the frantic bride choked.
“What do you want to do?” Kinley asked, at a loss as to how to proceed.
“I love you, Serena,” Chris said huskily. “I want to marry you. But if you want to stop everything right now, we’ll stop. I don’t care what your mother says, or my mother or anyone else. You’re all that matters to me.”
Serena’s breath caught in a hitch as fresh tears leaked from her red-rimmed eyes. She looked from her fiance to Kinley, as if hoping now that someone would tell her what to do despite her earlier resistance. Perhaps she did want that. Having been raised by Eva, Serena wasn’t accustomed to making her own decisions.
“I can’t tell you what’s best for you,” Kinley said simply. “I can take care of everything if you choose to call it off, or I can keep everything on hold while you make up your mind. But ultimately, the call is yours to make.”
Letting a long, unsteady sigh escape her, Serena sagged. “I love you,” she said to Chris. “I want to marry you. I just wish I’d stood up to her more, so that the wedding would reflect us. Not her.”
Now Kinley felt more certain. She wasn’t confident about calming hysterical young women, but she knew how to take charge when necessary. “What do you want to change?” she asked briskly. “Tell me, and we’ll take care of it, if at all possible.”
Serena stared at her wide-eyed. “What?”
Taking out her phone, Kinley opened her checklist. “Some things are a little too far along to change, of course. The menu, for example. I’m afraid that’s set. But if it makes you feel better, it all sounds delicious. I’m sure your guests will enjoy the meal. The ceremony itself hasn’t started yet. We can hold the guests in their seats, maybe play some music or something to entertain them while you make any adjustments you want. I’ll call the musicians and soloist and you can discuss musical selections. Maybe they’ll have music you prefer in their repertoires. My friend Janelle owns the bridal shop where you got your dress. The shop is open until six. I’m sure I can convince her to send over a selection of dresses in your size. Or I could send someone to pick them up. Logan would probably go.”
“You would do that?” Serena seemed stunned. “Change things at the last minute like this?”
“It’s your wedding,” Kinley reminded her. “My job is just to get things done the way you want them. I have sort of a knack for making things happen.”
Grimacing, Serena murmured, “About what I said earlier—”
Kinley brushed off the impending apology. “What do you want to do?”
Squaring her shoulders, the young woman looked at her groom, then nodded decisively. “I want to get married.”
She reached up to take hold of the rhinestone tiara and tug it from her hair. “And I don’t want to wear this stupid veil. Or this ridiculous bow. Maybe we can work with the rest of it.”
Chris grinned, relief making him look a little giddy when he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go out to speak to the soloist. She’s my cousin, after all. I’ve heard her sing more times than I can even remember. And I happen to know she’s very versatile. Just like the pianist—her husband.”
Serena caught her breath, clasping her hands in front of her. “Remember that song they did at Gabrielle and Bobby’s engagement party? The Lady Antebellum one we loved but Mom hated? She said it didn’t sound like a wedding song, even though I told her I didn’t care about that. And maybe I don’t have to enter to Mendelssohn? You know I really wanted Pachelbel, even though Mom said it’s overdone. Like the traditional wedding march isn’t,” she added with an exasperated shake of her head.
Chris stepped forward to press a hard kiss to his bride’s mouth. “I’ll take care of it,” he said huskily. “See you at the altar. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’ll send you a signal,” Kinley promised.
Taking the reins and running now, Serena called out to Bonnie. “Tell Anne we’ll take pictures with me in them after the ceremony, while the other guests are being seated for the meal. I’ll apologize to the wedding party for inconveniencing them, but there’s no need to delay the ceremony any longer. I should be ready by a quarter after five or so.”
“How can I help?” Dan asked.
“If you want to help, stay close,” Kinley replied. “I may need you to help me get everyone in place when Serena’s ready.”
“I’d be delighted.” Dan glanced at Serena. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding,” he assured her. “Your fiance is a lucky man.”