4 Kaua'i Me a River Read Free Page A

still there?”
    “Yeah. Hey, I’d really like to
pick you up at your place. After all, it’s your birthday dinner. And I’ll take
you to the airport before we head over to the restaurant. We’ll have plenty of
time.”
    ***
    The couple who showed up at my
shop at eleven o’clock that morning was indeed an older couple, probably in
their mid- to late-sixties. She was a half-foot shorter than I, about five feet
tall, with a short cap of what looked like Clairol Nice ‘n Easy Tawny Honey
Blond hair. Her body had gone a bit soft around the edges but she was still in good
shape. The groom was a few inches taller, with a bit of a paunch and a moon pie
face that looked even moonier due to his cue-ball bald pate. His shiny noggin seemed
to beg my hand to rub across it to see if it felt as smooth as it looked.
    I gestured for them to each take
a seat in the guest chairs across from my desk. I scurried to the other side
and sat down in my creaky teak swivel chair.
    I like working with older brides
for a bunch of reasons. First off, unlike twenty-somethings, their wedding
isn’t the first grown-up thing they’ve ever done so they usually don’t get all
‘bossy pants’ on me. And, they aren’t hell-bent on everything being ‘perfect’
and falling into fits of fury if the ‘dusty pink’ headbands turn out to be more
like ‘heather pink.’ And finally, I haven’t met one yet who thinks she’s competing
with Kim Kardashian for most over-the-top wedding ever. I mean, three wedding
dresses? After the dust settled, it turned out Kim K had more dresses than
months of holy matrimony.
    “I’m Mrs. Eleanor Baines,” said
the bride, opening up the conversation. “I’ve been widowed for almost five
years now. And this is my new hubby-to-be, Charles Lindberg. Isn’t that funny?”
    After a beat of confusion I realized
what she considered ‘funny’ was her fiancé’s name. It was the same as the
well-known aviator who, in 1927, made the first non-stop flight across the
Atlantic Ocean. 
    “Oh, as you may know, Charles
Lindbergh is a beloved name here on Maui, Mrs. Baines,” I said. “When the
original Mr. Lindbergh was alive he traveled all over the world, but Maui was
his favorite place. He’s buried up near Hana, you know.”
    “First of all, dear, please call
me Eleanor. And, as you’ll see on our marriage license, my Charles doesn’t put
the ‘h’ on the end of Lindberg like that other fella did. But this is also my
Charles’ favorite place. That’s why we want to get married here.”
    So far, ol’ Cue-ball Charlie hadn’t
uttered a sound. He sat there looking like a kid at the dentist while mommy did
all the talking.  
    I nodded. “Great. Well, I’m here
to make your wedding dreams come true. Let’s begin by getting the paperwork out
of the way.” I handed them a wedding consultation form to fill out and two
pens. Eleanor snapped up one of the pens and completed the entire form in
record time. Charles used the opportunity to count the buttons on my shirt.
    “Here you are,” Eleanor said handing
me back the form. “And you want a deposit of how much, dear?”
    “I usually request a thousand
dollars, either check or credit card. And I ask for a credit card number to keep
on file. After the wedding dinner I’ll present you with the total invoice, but
if you want to keep it all on the same card, I’ll run it the next day so you
don’t have to be bothered.”
    Eleanor plucked a Platinum
American Express card from her wallet and slid it across the desk. I wrote down
the information and handed it back.
    “Good,” she said as she tucked
her wallet away. “Now that we’ve gotten you taken care of, let’s see
about taking care of me , shall we?” She dragged a thick manila file folder
out of her luggage-sized purse and started flipping out photos and swatches
like a blackjack dealer with a five-deck shoe. The afternoon slipped away in a
torrent of questions and demands for ‘must haves,’