Chapter 28
Firemen’s ball.
If Charlie was going to pull this off, she didn’t have a moment to lose.
And it was the only way she could think of to make things up to Jake.
She’d spoken with half of Bridezilla’s vendors already: Kristina, Amelie, Maggie . . . they were all on board. Maggie had even lent Charlie her old Cutlass—along with a pair of socks and a handful of superhero Band-Aids—since Progress was still at the ranch.
All the Braddocks were probably still there, too. Had the family had enough bonding time?
Charlie searched for her phone so she could call Lila. She couldn’t find it anywhere in her bag—it must still be in Lila’s Suburban, where everything had fallen out of her purse. Charlie sighed and turned the key in Maggie’s car.
As she pulled out of the parking spot in front of Petal Pushers, she witnessed Big Red drive by at a leisurely pace, Jake behind the wheel. It was followed by the two other Silverlake Fire and Rescue vehicles.
Charlie drove back yet again to Silverlake Ranch. She squealed through the gate and down the drive, relieved to see the Suburban sitting where she’d left it.
Grouchy came galloping up, as usual, barking a welcome and wagging his tail.
She jumped out, scratched him behind the ears, and then banged on the front door.
Deck answered it, looking drained. As if he could barely muster the energy for surprise at seeing her there again. “Charlie?”
“I have an idea,” she said quickly. “Is Lila still here?”
“To be honest, this isn’t a great time for company—”
Ouch. “Deck, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but this is important. By the way, Mick took your cat to the vet. I wasn’t sure you’d heard, with all that’s been going on. A spark lit his tail on fire, but he’s being taken care of now.”
“What?” For Deck, the emotional reaction was extreme. He followed that up with a more measured, “Thanks for letting me know. Don’t know if you heard this one. Will’s wedding just got called off. That crazy—”
“I know.”
“You know? How? Oh,” he said. “Right. You drove Felicity back to the hotel.”
“Yes. So you wouldn’t have to deal with her, on top of everything else. But the wedding—that’s what I want to talk with you guys about.”
He didn’t move. “There is no wedding.”
“Well, no, but all the stuff for it has been ordered, so let’s turn it into something else.”
“Listen, Charlie,” he began in a shut-it-all-down tone.
“Lila!” she yelled past him. “Lila! I need to talk to you.”
“Haven’t you and your grandfather and the rest of the Nashes done enough damage?” Deck asked. He was quiet enough, but he was also gritting his teeth. “Can’t you let Jake have his sister back? Don’t make it worse for them.”
“This is for Jake. This thing. This redo of the wedding. I want to turn it into a—” She tried to rush by him, but he clamped his hands on either side of the doorway.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Lila!” she shouted.
“What?” Her friend finally came around the corner and into the hallway. “What’s going on?”
“We have a chance to do something really great here—change the wedding into a firemen’s ball! To raise money for Jake and the guys. There’s food, booze, flowers, linens, tables, and chairs—but we have to get the word out. We have to . . .” Charlie let her voice trail off in surrender as Lila just stared at her.
But then her friend flashed a huge smile, ducked under her brother’s arm, and rushed Charlie, wrapping her in a bear hug. “Brilliant. That’s just . . . brilliant!” She hugged her, and Lila and Charlie jumped up and down, like little kids.
Deck dropped his hands and took two steps backward. “Women are nuts,” he said to nobody in particular. “Totally nuts.”
“There’s so much to do.” Charlie’s voice faltered.
“We’ll work all night if we have to. You can stay with me and Amelie when we’re done, and then we can all get ready together tomorrow,” Lila said.
Charlie bit her lip, searching for ideas.
“I can talk to Mayor Fisk and get a mass e-mail out,” Declan said. The girls turned and stared at him. “Maybe we can get the cheer squad to start a telephone blitz to older people,” he added. Into the silence, he said with a shrug, “Jake deserves this.”
Lila let out a whoosh of breath. “Thanks, Deck.”
He gave her a curt nod.
“So, here’s what we’re going to do about the Old Barn,” Lila said. “We’ll simply set up behind it. There’s a huge tent coming tomorrow anyway. It’s the perfect backdrop, because it will reinforce the need for the fire department! But . . . what if people have plans?”
Charlie squared her shoulders. “They can cancel them. This is too important. Stress that. We can have a hospital and a fire department, but we have to raise the money—and everyone has to help. It’s their town, their responsibility. And it’s also a way of saying a big thank-you . . . to Old George, Jake and Mick, and Grady, Tommy, Hunter, and Rafael for being there all these years. And for all the extras they do.”
Deck nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
“So you’ll get Mayor Fisk’s office to help?” Charlie asked Declan.
“Yeah. And I’ll bet First Presbyterian’s women’s auxiliary will step up to the plate for the phone calls, since the Fire and Rescue guys put their new roof on . . .”
“Perfect,” Lila said. “Charlie, let’s go down to the Old Barn and take inventory on what got damaged, what we have, and what’s still coming. Now, how can we get an entire town to keep a secret?”
Charlie and Lila stepped gingerly through the wreckage of the blackened, sooty Old Barn. Horrified, Charlie stayed silent.
“Oh no. Oh no . . .” Tears sprang to Lila’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Poor Declan. He worked so hard on it all.”
Charlie hugged her, rubbing her back. “So did you. I know you did. On the interior.”
Lila shrugged that off; she just mopped at her eyes with her sleeve.
The whole place smelled awful, of burned electrical wiring, melted plastic, exploded chemicals, and smoked cedar combined.
Most of the roof was gone. Most of the windows were intact, though a few had blown out, due to the heat and expanding gases.
They picked their way through the filthy, wet debris, without much hope of salvaging anything. The furniture was history, even though most of it was still standing. It was soaked from the fire hoses, and the burned smell would never come out of the stuffing or fabric. Same went for the rugs. The framed black-and-white photographs on the walls were trashed.
The kitchen was in decent shape, which was good news. The fire hadn’t reached it. But a check of the storage closet revealed devastation: puddles of melted candles and white chocolate; broken porcelain and glass; and gelatinous red tatters on wire hangers.
“It looks like someone hung bacon in here,” Lila muttered.
“What is . . . ?!” Charlie pointed and dissolved into giggles. “It’s the horrible Vegas hooker bridesmaid dresses, with their matching gloves!”
Lila stared for a moment and then shrieked with laughter. “Wait, where’s my phone . . . I have to get pictures of this.”
“I honestly cannot think of a more fitting fate for them. Can you?”
“Nope.” Snap, snap, snap. Lila documented the ghoulish remnants of the gowns.
“You should send the pictures to Amelie. It’ll make her day.”
“Already done.” Lila chuckled, and then went silent again.
Nothing else was funny. The destruction was hard to take. They picked their way through the rest of the mess more soberly and then stepped out the rear door of the barn, where they made another odd discovery.
“Look: The porta-potty melted.”
“That’s nuts. Who knew it could?”
“It looks like something out of a Salvador Dalí painting—like those melting watches.”
“It’s so weird-looking . . .”
Lila’s cell phone rang while they were examining it. “Lila Braddock,” she answered with a sigh. She listened to the caller for a moment, then her eyebrows shot up. “The Barnums did what? Reversed the charges? You’ve got to be kidding me. Wait, why does this surprise me? Bridezilla had to get her freakishness from somewhere. I am so sorry.”
Charlie’s mouth fell open. Who? she mouthed.
Caterer, Lila mouthed back. To the person on the phone she said, “Wait, wait, wait. It’s not a total loss. You have the fifty percent deposit, right? That cleared? Okay, good. Well, we have a plan. Let me tell you about it. I was actually just going to call you, along with a lot of other people . . . I can at least get you a tax write-off on your loss.”
Lila explained the firemen’s ball concept. Her phone kept ringing, and she explained it to the wine/liquor vendor, the equipment rental people, and the tent people as well.
Meanwhile, Charlie called and ordered another porta-potty. It was the least she could do.