Gigi asked, spinning in the aisle while taking in the stained glass of the historic First Baptist. “This really is a spectacular old church. I guess if Gary had to pick . . . what a place to go.” She wiped the corner of her eye. “Not nearly enough natural light,” Marco said. “Those colors in the stained glass are going to mess up the skin tone of the bridal party—not to mention how they can dull a white dress.” Aha, so the bride’s dress was white after all. I texted Liv. “Good thing I travel with my own lighting guy,” Gigi said. “I’ll have him take a look at the church, too. So, Audrey, tell me what you have in mind for the church flowers.” I put my phone back into my pocket. “Do I have to talk into the camera?” “Not unless you have something earth-shattering to say. Marco is mainly here to check out the lighting.” I walked her through our plans for the church flowers: altar flowers, nice arrangements on the window ledges, swags from the rafters, and the calla lily and silver bell markers on the ends of every pew.
What do You think about For Whom The Bluebell Tolls?
