A Toast to Starry Nights (15 page)

“Then you should explain yourself.
Otherwise one could construe your words to mean I should stop getting my oral
fixation out on your person.”

“You got work early in the morning and
it's pushing eleven-thirty right now. I propose that we continue this
tomorrow.”

My jaw dropped. “You are a tease. A
horrible, horrible tease.”

“You know how it is, babe. I gotta keep
you in your place on occasion. And you haven't been sleeping well. You need your
rest... I feel you toss all night.”

My jaw somehow found another inch
towards the earth. “Wow. So, you get me all frisky and then tell me to cool my
jets. You so owe me.” I wasn't jesting.

He laughed. “Actually, I wanted just to
snuggle. You always get frisky when we snuggle... sometimes it's just cool to
chill with each other. Nookie is awesome, but so is just hearing you breathe on
my neck.”

“So we cuddle beneath the stars tonight.
I like that idea. And the bonus is no mosquitoes.”

“That is a bonus. Come on, babe. Gimme
some sugar.”

I lay in the crook of his shoulder, my
arm thrown across his torso. My toes pushed against the sheet-clad mattress and
boosted me the wee distance to plant a kiss on his stubble-roughened cheek.
Dmitri's head leaned towards mine.

He bent his head towards mine to bestow
a gentle kiss upon my forehead. Dmitri's voice whispered softly in my ear, “You
need to pick a wedding date,” before the Sandman stamped my ticket to
Slumberland.

Chapter Twelve-

The shrill screech of the alarm blared
five-fifteen in the morning. Dawn approached and brought with it a gentle
light. A whack a-touch too rough silenced the irritant. With a sigh, I arose to
take a shower and get cracking on the day. Farmer's Market was always busy.

By five-thirty-five I was dressed in a
t-shirt and jean shorts combo and out the front door. My shirt was black with
my business logo stamped in white on the back and on the front, my name
glittered from a pocket on the left side. I unlocked my car and double checked the
contents of the cargo area to ensure all was there. Time was of the essence.
Had to get to my cousin's house to pick her up. Jet was going to meet us at the
market by seven-thirty.

Morning sun broke past the horizon to
light my way. Five-forty-five, and I was at Anita Ann's to enslave her for the
day as my minion. I parked by the curbside mail box and text messaged her
,
I'm here.

Be right out ;)

I liked this kid. At seventeen, she
possessed more poise than most twenty-five year olds. Intelligent and curious
with a wonderful scientific bent, she was the kid that made me like kids. Her
mom and mine were sisters, and the fact Nita and I shared chromosomal pairs
undoubtedly earned her bonus points as well. Our mothers were odd, to put it
nicely. Now here was someone that felt like family.

She emerged from her front door to dart
across the verdant lawn and past a wall of Marguerite daisies. Clutched in her
hands were two steel travel cups. She reached my ride, tucked a cup into the
crook of her elbow as she popped open the door. “Are we running late?” Anita
Ann handed me the elbow-warmed cup of coffee as she climbed into the Jeep. She
wore cutoffs with a blue and black tank top, screen printed in the same manner
as my own. The exception was that her name read “Nita” in bright pink glitter,
per her request.

“Not really, but there's a lot to do
with set up. And after the Chico market, we'll probably head to Corning for
their evening market. It'll be busy. But with the fourth of July looming, it'll
be crazy-busy and that's a good thing.” I didn't reveal that chaos would reign.

“So what am I supposed to do?” She got
in and buckled up.

“You can either play cashier and order
taker, or you can try your hands at coloring. I packed a bunch of your practice
pieces.... See how they sell. Whatever you make from them is yours to keep.
They're good. You got the touch my friend.”

Her warm brown eyes turned up at the
edges as a smile flit across her face. “Sweet. I'm saving up for a car. How
much are we charging?”

“Twelve for shirts, twenty for custom.
The small silk paintings are fifteen, big ones thirty-five and the quilts have
the prices tagged on them. You don't need to worry about prices so much if
you're playing cashier. The program on the laptop is a point and click thingie that
has it all pre-programmed. Just scan, bag and print receipt. The credit card
reader is pretty easy to use too. Just swipe the card after checking ID and let
the computer take care of it all. Do not run a card without verifying the name
matches on both cards and the picture looks like the person paying for things.”

I turned onto the Bayliss road. “Okay, I
need your opinion on something, Nita. And you can't tell anyone.” Velvety green
rice fields surrounded us. Heron and crane stood in the midst and poached bugs.
Red tailed hawks topped the rural power lines, awaiting their next meal to dart
across the paved dinner table.

For a moment she reminded me of Jet with
her open anticipation of a secret to hoard. “Promise. Pinky swear, even.”

In a flash my mother came to mind and
with it the deal. “No need to pinky swear... that just gets people in trouble.”
I took a deep breath. “Dmitri proposed to me.”

She squealed. High pitched, too. “Tell
me!” The high octave wiped any remnants of sleep from my brain.

“During dinner at The Gillispie
Plantation House.” The remainder would be the stuff of legends within the
family for years to come. Nita would hear the gory details sooner or later— but
not from me. “Okay, so he told me to pick a date... well... I'm thinking
autumn. Specifically Halloween... but not a costumed thing. At midnight.”
Dmitri's incessant insistence for a date had done as intended. Fine. He now
will have a date to get all giddy about.

“Ooooh, that sounds so cool! Where is it
going to be?”

I took a deep breath. “I'm torn between
two places... on one hand, there's Vegas. No Elvis impersonators... but
something just decadent and where all I have to do is pick out the invites,
cake, dress and guest-list... let someone else handle all the aggravating details.
You would not believe some of the people I've worked with when I dyed the
dresses for their wedding party. Completely stressed, screeching at people on
the phone... yeah. No thanks. I'm okay with designating hair-pulling to someone
else.” Except my mother. “The other option is at The Aquarium, in front of the
Wide Expanses exhibit window. Can you imagine? Silhouetted against bright blue?
Sharks and turtles swimming around? That's the very decadent choice. And by the
way... Dmitri has no clue. I'm looking to totally wow him.”

Nita sat silent. “Go with The Aquarium.
I'm too young to fully appreciate Vegas anyhow. And I'm so going to be at your
wedding. Plus it's closer. Dmitri footing the bill, because, wow. You can do
that? Get hitched there?”

If I had my way, I'd foot it all myself.
But life didn't work out quite as I had hoped. “Yeah, one can if one has the
funds for such things. His parents offered us carte blanche with wedding
planning as a gift.” Evidently, largesse is a traditional Croatian wedding
custom. ”We're going to run everything by them just in case they think it's too
much... but I suspect whatever Dmitri wants, he'll get. They are beyond
thrilled that he's doing something traditional. By their schedule, he should
have been married at least five years ago and have three children by now. To
them, this is a big step in the right direction. They'll be flying in from
Croatia when it's time for the shindig with his brother Ifan and his wife,
Aishana. They plan on renting an RV, drive to New York City for some
sight-seeing and fly back to Europe from there.”

I was of two minds when it came to the
subject of the wedding and Dmitri's parents. They were eager for him to get
married and start a family. Dmitri had not told them that I am unable to bear
children... and children were something his parents wanted from him very badly.
I wanted him to tell them the reality of the situation. I don't want them to
feel cheated out of potential grandkids because they wanted to pay for his
wedding to someone they didn't know was sterile.

The other potentially worrisome factor
involved Dmitri turning his back on tradition to live the “American Dream”,
which included severing some serious ties to the family company. Although
Dmitri said his father was okay with it now... I wouldn't blame him if
resentment lingered. There were times I wished the Croatian language came
naturally to me so I'd know what the heated discussions over the phone were
about.

“Well, if they are making the trip all
the way from where ever it is they are from, might as well give them a show.”

“That's what I'm thinking. I can't think
of anything more jaw-dropping.” Ifan got married at Notre-Dame des Nice. I saw
photographs of elegant grandeur. So while Dmitri was no longer the Golden Child
and Scion, I wanted to show that I could think sophisticated and plan
festivities on an elegant level.

I'm two generations off the mountain. A
chick from a tiny podunk town in Northern California. I've traveled a little in
my time, but I not a world traveler by any means. I'm not from wealthy stock.
His parents never met me, and I didn't know if being a purebred American Mutt
would be considered a strike against me in addition to being unable to spawn
bratlings of my own. The way I figured it, if they don't like me because I make
their son happy, then it's a good thing they live on the other side of the
world so they don't have to witness his childless bliss.

At the moment thoughts bubbled in my
mind at the potential of an elegant aquatic endeavor. The first big hurdles of
wedding planning nailed. “I can't wait to break it to Dmitri. And I wanted to
ask if you would like to be my bridesmaid. You're too old to be a flower girl.
You game, young one?”

“Duh! Like you even have to ask. I'd be
thrilled! Who is going to be your maid of honor? What color will I suffer
through?” She grinned.

“Silvery-lavender. Jet is the Maid of
Honor, she'll wear purple. You'll like her. She's exotic. And I'm going to wear
indigo... and only the flowers will be white.”

“Exotic? Like freak show sort of exotic
or more of a not from around here type?”

“The latter with a touch of the former.”
I grinned at mildly wide-eyed look on Nita's face. “She's a librarian.
Children's section. She's more bark than bite.”

Her expression relaxed at the mention of
Jet's current version of hell. “Oh, well okay then. And when I get married, I'm
stealing that idea. White weddings are a recent thing anyhow. Its from when
Queen Victoria got married... she set the trend for wearing a white dress.
Traditional was whatever the best dress the bride had. It's kinda neat how
something so minor as a fashion choice can snowball into something multiple
cultures can call 'tradition.' I'm glad you are doing something so like you. I
got a question though... isn't silvery-lavender too close to white? What about
teal?”

I smiled wide at my young cousin. She
possesses much potential, indeed. “I see your point. Plus with the triangular
fibers that makes up silk, teal would give a purple cast. It'd be like a
peacock tail. You have your wish. Teal for you.”

We drove past flooded rice fields,
almond and olive orchards to Chico and made our way through the maze of one-way
downtown streets to the market site. I drove to my spot and parked beneath a
great maple tree. The Farmer's Market took up a healthy portion of a parking
lot behind a strip mall, and it was already crowded with vehicles setting up
for the eight o'clock rush.

Nita and I exited the vehicle, walked to
the backside and popped open the cargo door. In tandem we reached in to pull
out the easy-up canopy. Forty-three pounds of shade plopped onto its
carrying-case wheels with a thunk. After wresting it out of the case she and I
started erecting it. Luckily it was as advertised, simple to set up. Two people
on diagonal sides pull outwards until the canopy extends, then push up on the
legs to lengthen them. Voila. Next out were the poles for hanging clothing
items. A secret I learned the first summer of participating in the Farmer's
Markets around here was that the easiest way to set up was to pack the cargo
area in order of whats needed. It made things faster and smoother, which means
that more time was spent selling than setting up.

Then came the merchandising. Dmitri
rigged up a hanging system of small diameter pvc pipes with wooden dowels
through the center to keep them from bending under the weight of dozens of
t-shirt, Hawaiian shirt, dresses and baby-clothes clad hangers. The poles
suspended by chain with wire woven through for added strength from another pole
suspended by S-Hooks from the canopy's frame. Folding tables held dyed silk
scarves and baskets containing small yardages of various colors with the
intention of quilt-making. At the back of my booth, two tables set up in an L
shape. Here was the heart of my operation.

Plastic tote-bins of white clothing hid
under the tables. A five-gallon bucket held the fixer solution, the lid firmly
in place with a pair of black gloves waiting atop. A smaller tote with a
plastic-coated wire mesh insert six inches aloft from the bottom served as the
dyebox. All my colors were arranged in a rainbow of large squeeze bottles in
narrow boxes that kept them from tipping over if a hand accidentally knocked
them askew. Clear plastic sheeting covered the tabletop and the ground under my
feet. Nita helped me set up the water-jug; a thirteen-gallon camping supply
special with its own stand and a five gallon bucket beneath to catch any drips.