A Theme Wedding
In large cities like New York and Los Angeles or areas where the wealthy congregate such as the Hamptons, South Beach or Palm Springs, a creative person with good people skills can make a decent living as an event planner. In the small community of Puritan Falls, however, most people could not afford to hire someone to organize a wedding, baby shower, retirement dinner or birthday party. However, there were a few individuals in Northeast Massachusetts who had the money to celebrate on a grand scale, and these people went to the area's foremost event planner, Cheyenne Fulbright.
Married to a professor of archaeology, she did not worry that her business was sporadic. Jordan's six-figure salary covered their basic living expenses. Her income either paid for the nonessentials or went into their retirement savings. Working out of her home, she kept overhead expenses to a minimum and made a decent profit.
Cheyenne had been in business for a little over three years when she met bride-to-be Darlene Lindner for lunch at Chez Pierre. When the young woman walked into the restaurant, the event planner mentally pegged her as being a customer who wanted a glitzy, fairy tale wedding. Miss Lindner was a beautiful blonde with blue eyes and a bubbly personality that screamed cheerleader, prom queen, homecoming queen or, most likely, all three.
I can see it now. She'll look like a princess in an elaborate designer gown. She'll insist on a cake that goes halfway to the ceiling and fresh flowers everywhere. Bridesmaids in pink, of course. And there'll be "bling" on everything that doesn't move!
Cheyenne was soon surprised to discover how deceiving first impressions often are.
"I want a gothic wedding," the All-American girl announced after giving her lunch order to the waitress.
"You mean a medieval, Lord of the Rings meets Game of Thrones motif?"
"No. Something vampire-esque: black dress, black cake, old castle setting."
Temporarily speechless, Cheyenne could only stare at the young woman sitting across from her.
"You do arrange theme weddings, don't you?"
"Y-yes, I've done a few, but never a gothic one."
"Do you think you can handle it?" Darlene asked eagerly.
"I'm sure I can," Cheyenne said with confidence she did not feel.
The event planner took a notebook out of her purse and began jotting down the pertinent information: date of the wedding, estimated number of guests and the price range the couple wanted to spend. She also questioned Darlene on food preferences.
"It doesn't matter what we eat as long as there is plenty of blood on tap." When Darlene saw the stunned look on the other woman's face, she hurriedly assured her, "I'm just kidding."
Cheyenne laughed out of courtesy before asking, "Is there going to be a church wedding before the reception?"
Now it was Darlene's turn to feel uncomfortable.
"Not exactly inside the church ...."
"Where then?"
"In the graveyard behind it."
This time Darlene was not joking.
* * *
After dinner that evening, Cheyenne began researching gothic weddings on the Internet.
"Planning on throwing a Halloween party?" Her husband asked when he noticed the images she was viewing on Pinterest.
"No, a wedding!"
"For whom, the Bride of Frankenstein?"
"For a girl who looks like a Barbie doll come to life. She wants to get married in a cemetery, of all places!"
"Is that allowed?"
"Apparently so."
"Where are they going to have the reception, at the crematorium?"
"No, she wants to rent Hammond's Castle in Gloucester for the night."
"I thought that was a museum."
"It is, but people can rent the great hall, the Renaissance dining room, the courtyard and the lawn for wedding receptions."
"Sounds expensive. Your Barbie must come from a wealthy family."
"I suppose so; she kept insisting during our initial consultation that money is no object."
"Then why doesn't she want to have a destination wedding?" Jordan teased. "I hear Transylvania is lovely this time of year."
As her husband surfed through the channels for something to watch, Cheyenne went back to her Internet search. She scanned through dozens of ads for gothic wedding gowns, taking notes of items she wanted to discuss with the bride. Gown: solid black, black and white, black and red, black and purple, solid red or solid purple? Full or form-fitting? Strapless, sleeveless or sleeves?
Surprisingly, there was a wide selection of invitations. Rather than lilies, wedding bells and doves, they featured black roses, skeletons, coffins and ravens. Again, the main color scheme involved black, red and purple. The same was true when she googled "gothic wedding cakes."
After bookmarking pages she wanted to show to Darlene at their next meeting, Cheyenne closed her laptop and went to the living room to watch a comedy with her husband. She had had enough gloominess for one evening.
* * *
Three days later, Cheyenne met with Darlene for their second appointment. The event planner was at her desk filling out a standard contract when she heard the front doorbell ring. She opened the door and noticed that in the bright afternoon sunlight the young woman looked even more like a Southern California beach beauty and less like a girl interested in the gothic subculture.
"Come into my office. I've found a number of dresses online I'd like you to see."
"Online? What if it doesn't fit right?"
"No problem. There's a seamstress in Copperwell that can work miracles. I normally don't suggest going that route, but the wedding stores around here carry traditional gowns. They've got nothing in black, purple or red. Besides, the online shops have lower prices. It will wind up being cheaper in the long run even with alterations."
"I'm not worried about the money," Darlene reminded Cheyenne.
Although her tastes ran to the macabre, when it came to choosing a wedding dress, the gothic bride was no different from the dozens of girls Cheyenne had worked with in the past. They all wanted to look beautiful on their special day.
"I can't make up my mind!" the bride-to-be exclaimed, scanning the images the event planner had saved to her desktop.
"Are there any you can eliminate?"
"Well, this one looks too much like a Halloween costume," Darlene said, pointing to a Renaissance style gown. "And this one is a little too poufy."
"That narrows your favorites down to three: the white one with the black trim, the purple taffeta and the solid black. Do you think your fiancé would prefer one over the other two?"
"I doubt it will matter much to him what I wear. I'll be blunt; the wedding is for me, not him."
"That's usually the case," Cheyenne admitted. "After all, a wedding is a woman's chance to shine and be the center of attention."
After several more minutes of consideration, Darlene chose the purple taffeta, one with a full skirt and sweeping train.
"It looks like the sort of dress Scarlett O'Hara would wear!"
Cheyenne smiled, thinking the only way America's most beloved Southern belle would wear a dress like that would be if Tim Burton remade Gone with the Wind.
For the next two hours, the two women discussed invitations, floral arrangements, table settings, favors, meal choices and finally the cake. Again, Darlene was torn between several options, finally selecting a three-tiered white cake decorated with black fondant lace and red roses. The final item the bride selected was a small silver coffin with purple satin lining that would be used to hold the two wedding rings.
Cheyenne consulted her checklist and saw there was one item they did not discuss.
"That leaves us only with transportation," she said. "Considering the theme of your wedding, I thought you might want to get a hearse to take you and the groom from the church—I mean the cemetery—to Hammond Castle, but there's no place to sit in the back of a hearse. Will a regular limo do?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of a horse-drawn carriage: a black carriage pulled by a black horse wearing one of those black plumes on his head."
"Okay. That's doable."
"Oh, and there's one other thing. The wedding ceremony is going to be held after the reception."
"After? That's never been done before."
"I want to be married at the stroke of midnight, and I can't hold the reception that late."
"So let me clarify this: you want your reception in the evening. After the reception is over, you will have a horse-drawn carriage take you to the cemetery where you'll be married at midnight?"
"That's right."
"Okay," Cheyenne said, writing the details in her notebook.
This is one wedding that should appear in Ripley's Believe It or Not!
* * *
"How's the wedding going?" Jordan asked when he came home from work early one evening to take his wife out to dinner for her birthday.
Although Cheyenne was currently working with two other brides, she knew the wedding her husband was referring to: Darlene Lindner's gothic-themed nuptials.
"I think I've got everything under control, but this is such an unconventional affair that I'm afraid something is bound to go wrong and I won't know how to fix it."
"Relax. You're good at what you do. I'm sure that if the baker sends the wrong cake or the caterer comes down with the flu, you'll be able to handle it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Cheyenne said, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek. "You're always so supportive. I hope all my brides get husbands half as good as you."
"Have you met Miss Lindner's intended yet?"
"No. She says he's not interested in the wedding arrangements. Apparently, she's the one who wants the big wedding."
"Isn't that typical? I know when we got married, I wasn't eager to help pick out centerpieces for the guests' tables or choose which font would appear on our wedding invitations. About the only part of the planning process I did enjoy was sampling the food we were going to serve at our reception."
"You do realize I only asked you to be there because I wanted your company," Cheyenne joked. "I knew exactly what I wanted and was determined to get my way regardless of your preferences."
Once he stopped laughing, Jordan asked, "I suppose you're going to be at this morbid wedding yourself?"
"As the planner, I always attend the events. I like to be close at hand in case I'm needed."
"Make sure you take pictures. I really want to see how everything turns out."
"I'm sure you, being such a horror movie buff, would enjoy it immensely!"
* * *
When the day of Darlene Lindner's wedding finally arrived, Cheyenne Fulbright stood in front of her closet debating what to wear. She looked at her little black dress—a necessity to every woman's wardrobe according to Coco Chanel—and considered wearing it. Normally, women avoided wearing black at weddings because of the color's association with mourning. However, this was a gothic wedding where black was the main color in the decorative palette. Next to her black dress was a white one. Again, a white dress was taboo for traditional weddings since a person wearing white would be seen as competing with the bride. Since Darlene's gown was a deep purple, white might be appropriate.
Maybe I should just wear the Morticia Addams costume I bought for Shannon Devlin's Halloween party last year.
Eventually, she decided on a navy pants suit. It was professional, unassuming and, more importantly, fit for a somber occasion. Once Cheyenne was dressed and her make-up applied, she went downstairs to the living room where her husband was grading papers.
"There's lasagna in the fridge," she told him.
"What gruesome delicacy are they serving at the wedding?"
"Guests will be able to choose from chicken marsala, seafood platter or prime rib."
"How boring!"
When the grandfather clock struck five, Cheyenne grabbed her keys off the dining room table.
"I've gotta go. I've only got a couple of hours to set up."
She kissed her husband goodbye and headed toward the front door.
"Don't forget to take plenty of pictures!" Jordan called as the door shut behind her.
* * *
"Good. No one's here yet," Cheyenne said when she pulled into the castle's empty parking lot.
No sooner did she get out of her car and press the lock button on her key fob than the caterer's van pulled up alongside her. Carrying a box of table and wall decorations, Cheyenne followed the caterer and his assistant into the castle.
"You can set up in the Renaissance dining room," she instructed the two men. "You think you can get everything ready in two hours or should I get someone to help you?"
"Two hours is plenty of time," the caterer replied, his eyes widening when he noticed the morbid tablecloths and napkins Cheyenne had chosen.
"Are you sure we're here to cater a wedding?" he laughed.
"It's a theme wedding."
"Who's your client? Count Dracula?"
In exactly one hour and fifty minutes the caterer finished setting up. The salads for the first course were prepared. All that needed to be done was to apply the dressings. Cheyenne talked to the serving staff as everyone awaited the arrival of the guests.
"I'm surprised no one's here yet," the caterer said. "Usually, there's always a handful of people who show up early at weddings."
"That's because there's normally a period of a time between the end of the church ceremony and the beginning of the reception when people run out of things to do to kill time and decide to go to the reception early. In this case, the ceremony is to be held after the reception."
"What? Whoever heard of such a thing?"
"The bride believes having the ceremony at midnight will fit the theme of the wedding."
Half an hour later none of the guests had arrived yet.
"Could there have been a mistake on the invitations?" the caterer inquired. "Maybe the printer got the date wrong."
"No, I checked them when they arrived," Cheyenne replied, wondering what else might have gone wrong.
"Maybe there was an accident on the road and no one can get through," the caterer's assistant suggested.
The minutes ticked by, and there was still no sign of the wedding guests.
"It's like I said," the assistant contended, "there must have been an accident on Hesperus Avenue. It's pretty much the only way to get here."
While the caterer and his assistant covered the hot dishes to keep them warm and the servers sat around talking or playing games on their cell phones, Cheyenne paced the floor nervously. She had tried calling Darlene several times, but no one answered.
At ten o'clock, the caterer turned the burners off beneath the chafing dishes so the food would not burn.
"It doesn't look like anyone is going to show," he said. "What do you suggest we do?"
"We've got the place for another hour, so let's just wait awhile. Give it until 10:45. If no one has arrived by then, go ahead and start packing up."
"What about all the food?"
"Everything was paid for in advance, so you'll still get your money. Why don't you put it all in your refrigerator overnight, and tomorrow I'll call the homeless shelter. They'll be glad to get a donation."
At 10:30, with half an hour left until the reception was scheduled to end, the people in the Renaissance dining room were startled by the resonating sound of organ music.
"Who's playing the pipe organ?" the caterer asked. "We're the only ones here."
"I don't know. I ...."
Suddenly, the great hall was filled with people, presumably the wedding guests.
"Quick!" the caterer ordered. "Everybody get to work. We want everyone to finish dessert before eleven."
As the servers hurried about with dishes, Cheyenne walked through the interior courtyard (which the Hammonds had designed to resemble a medieval town) toward the great hall. Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the guests. It was like a scene from the 1962 horror movie Carnival of Souls, where the heroine of the story watches dead couples waltz in the dance hall of an abandoned carnival.
This is a theme wedding to beat all theme weddings! The guests look like extras in The Night of the Living Dead.
"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," she shouted, trying to be heard above the loud organ music. "I must ask you all to go into the dining room. Dinner is being served now."
The people immediately stopped dancing, and all eyes turned to Cheyenne.
"You don't want the food to get cold," she said, suppressing a shiver.
The guests walked silently into the dining room, moving as one body rather than as individual people.
Damn! They not only look like zombies, they act like them, too.
One bright, shining face appeared out of the midst of darkness: Darlene Lindner. Even in her purple gown, black lace gloves and purple top hat complete with a long black tulle veil, the bride was like a breath of sunshine on a dark, stormy sky.
"I'm so glad to see you!" Cheyenne exclaimed. "I was afraid you were going to miss your own wedding."
"There were some unforeseen delays," was all the explanation the girl offered.
"Where's the groom?"
"He's not here, but don't worry. He'll be at the ceremony without fail."
The fact that the groom was not attending the reception would normally have been disastrous, but it did not seem to faze Darlene in the least.
"In order to hurry things up, we're serving the main course along with the salad," the caterer informed Cheyenne.
"Good idea. I don't think the break with tradition will matter to these people in the least."
Since the groom was not present, it was up to the bride to cut the cake alone. Once dessert was served, Darlene threw her bouquet. After the purple calla lilies were caught by a girl who resembled Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, the guests shuffled out of the dining room, passed through the courtyard and vanished into the night as mysteriously as they had appeared.
A single person remained in the great hall: a driver decked out in black Victorian attire.
"Somebody here order a horse-drawn carriage?" he asked.
"I did," Darlene replied gaily. "I'm ready to go."
Holding up her full skirt in both hands, the bride walked regally out the door and into the waiting Victoria.
It was customary for Cheyenne to go home after the bride and groom left a wedding reception. Her work was done, and the caterer and his assistant had already begun packing up. With nothing left for her to do, she got into her car and turned the key in the ignition. As she pulled out onto Hesperus Avenue, she saw the Victoria heading in the opposite direction. On impulse she made a three-point turn and followed the horse-drawn vehicle.
At 11:42 the carriage stopped in front of the gates of a cemetery. The driver helped his passenger down from her seat.
"Are you sure this is where you wanted to go?" he asked with disbelief.
"Yes."
Darlene reached into her evening bag and took out a hundred dollar bill.
"Here. This is for you. You can go now."
"I can't leave you out here by yourself."
"I'll be fine. My fiancé will be here any minute now."
It was only after he spotted Cheyenne's car approaching the gates that the driver got back into the carriage and drove away.
"I didn't expect you to be here," the bride said.
"I didn't want to miss the ceremony. You don't mind, do you?"
"No. Not at all. This is the happiest day of my life, and I'd love to have you share in the final moments of it."
"Where's your fiancé?"
"He's waiting inside."
Darlene then turned and pushed open the heavy wrought iron gate.
"This way," she said, guiding Cheyenne through the darkness to a large mausoleum with the name LINDNER engraved above the entrance.
"This is where your family is buried?"
The heavy door opened before the bride could answer. Inside was a young man, his hands bound and his eyes open wide with terror. He looked at Darlene and screamed.
"You've gotta help me," the groom cried, pleading with Cheyenne. "Get me out of here."
The event planner did not know if what she was witnessing was being staged as part of the ceremony or if Darlene had actually had a young man kidnapped and held prisoner in the family tomb.
The bride looked at her watch; it was 11:55.
"It's time," she announced quietly.
Suddenly, the cemetery came alive—probably not the most accurate choice of word—as the deceased wedding guests who had danced in Hammond Castle's great room and eaten in its Renaissance dining room rose from the surrounding graves. Lastly, a deceased minister approached the couple.
"Dearly beloved," his voice intoned although his lips never moved. "We are gathered here tonight to unite this man and woman in the bonds of unholy matrimony."
"No! No!" the unwilling groom shrieked with horror as he desperately tried to break free from the hands that held him prisoner.
Cheyenne knew she should run, save herself and get help for the kidnapped man, but she stood transfixed with fear, unable to move a muscle.
"Do you have the rings?" the minister asked.
Darlene reached into her purse, took out a small silver coffin, opened it and removed the rings. She placed the smaller of the two gold bands on the ring finger of her left hand. Then she picked up the larger ring and reached for the groom's hand.
"Stay away from me!"
"Did you forget that you asked me to marry you, Troy?"
"I changed my mind. Why couldn't you accept that?"
"Because I loved you. I wanted to be your wife, and now I shall."
Just as she placed the ring on Troy's finger, the clock in the church tower began to strike the midnight hour.
"No! I don't agree to this marriage. I refuse to take my vows."
"It doesn't matter," Darlene explained. "You gave up all right to consent or object when you murdered me."
At the last stroke of twelve, the minister concluded, "I now pronounce you man and wife."
"You're mine now," the bride announced with triumph, "for all eternity."
As Darlene Lindner threw her arms around her beloved Troy and kissed him, the minister and the wedding guests returned to their graves. Once the kiss was broken, the newlywed spirits vanished; and Cheyenne found herself alone in the cemetery, looking down at the dead body of the groom on the marble floor of the mausoleum.
Naturally, the police were skeptical when they heard the event planner's account of the young man's death even after the carriage driver, the caterer, his assistant and the servers corroborated most of her claims. Thankfully, the medical examiner ruled that death was the result of natural causes: Troy Harbeck had died from heart failure. Since foul play was ruled out, no police investigation was deemed necessary. Consequently, there was no media circus in the wake of the discovery of the groom's body, just a two-paragraph article in The Puritan Falls Gazette.
As was the case with all bizarre happenings that occurred in the small New England coastal village, the incident of the murdered bride and her unfortunate groom was quickly forgotten. Nonetheless, for the remainder of her career as an event planner, Cheyenne Fulbright felt a moment of panic whenever one of her customers announced that she wanted a theme wedding.
If anyone is in the area of Gloucester, Massachusetts, I recommend visiting Hammond Castle. They hold a Renaissance fair there every year, and I think they still have a haunted attraction at Halloween. But any time of the year, it is well worth seeing.
The image below is of Norman Reedus as Daryl Dixon in The Walking Dead.
When Salem heard the dead were walking the earth, he called for reinforcements.
