Thistles and the Unthinkable

It's wedding week in Port Danby! Lacey is busy helping Lola get ready for the big day. Nerves, tensions, and jitters are in the air. And so are parents, literally. Everyone is arriving soon in the small town to help Ryder and Lola celebrate their nuptials. All is running smoothly until a member of the wedding band winds up dead. Now, Lola needs to look for another band and Lacey must toss aside some of the wedding preparations for a murder investigation.

"I really like them!" Lola had to use three times her normal voice (which was saying something) for us to hear over the band. "I hope we can book them on such short notice," she continued, straining to be heard. The sound system Rocker's Lullaby was using was far too massive for the tiny hole in the wall venue. The cheap wood siding on the walls vibrated like a nervous Chihuahua. The floor area was divided in two, where one half of the already too tight space was filled with tables and the other half was packed with people attempting to dance to Bon Jovi's "Bad Medicine". There was no more elbow room than in an old-fashioned phone booth.

Lola continued to talk. She had to speak at the top of her lungs just short of yelling. Briggs, Ryder and I all leaned in awkwardly, our heads tilted like dogs trying to discern if their owner was saying sit or treat. None of the inconveniences stopped Lola from giving us her full opinion.

We were a week out from the big day, the 'biggest day of the century' according to my best friend, Lola Button. She'd been working hard for months planning what she considered to be the ultimate wedding, and we were approaching the final countdown. Only there was one huge piece missing from her day of perfection—a band. After interviewing a half dozen DJs for the event, Lola didn't gel (her word) with any of them. She lamented that none of them had her vision when it came to music. You didn't have to know Lola well to know that she would insist on having rock 'n roll at her wedding. Her massive collection of rock band t-shirts would clue in even a complete stranger. Since none of the bands on her shirts were available (and she did try with an email to the Black Crowes' talent rep and received a sticker with the band logo in return) and considering there were only a few days left until the big event, Lola was going to need a local band. A friend of hers had mentioned Rocker's Lullaby. So off we'd all set for a night at Mayfield Tavern. Briggs, who normally loved a night out with music and a cold beer, looked as if he'd rather be any place at all than in the sardine can tavern that was thrumming, almost painfully, with loud voices and a music system so oversized it seemed the roof might just blow off the place. Ryder didn't look any happier, but he tried to force a look of enthusiasm and interest for the sake of his bride-to-be. Lola had been extra touchy these past few weeks (which was also saying something).

Lola was still talking loudly when the band stopped for a break, but there was so much peripheral noise in the place, glasses clinking, loud conversations, laughter and the buzzing lights that were strung from the ceiling, we still had to lean in to hear her. "I'm going to talk to them as soon as their groupies stop huddling around the stage." She glanced at Ryder. He had a skeptical brow raised. "What?" she asked sharply. "Don't you like them? I'm sure my mom will think they're too grungy, but I like the way they look."
Ryder nodded along with her opinion, even though it was obvious he had a different one. I could actually see him taking a fortifying breath (not easy in the dank, beer permeated air) before he spoke up. "Lo-lo, I think they're great, if you think they're great."

I elbowed Briggs and leaned closer to him. "Take note, James. All men could learn a lesson from Ryder Kirkland."

Briggs scoffed and elbowed me back. "Hold up, I sense a but coming."

"However," Ryder said tentatively.

"See." James muttered into my ear.

"You said but," I reminded him.

Briggs shrugged. "However, but, same difference." We both cut short our sidebar conversation to see which direction the main conversation was heading.

Ryder took another fortifying breath before continuing. He had Lola's undivided and somewhat irritated attention. "The wedding is a week away. I think the chances of landing this band for the gig are slim to none. Look at this place. They draw a crowd. They're probably booked solid for months."

Lola could not be dissuaded. She waved off his silly concern. "The wedding is early enough in the day that they could perform for us and then travel to their next job."
Ryder scanned the stage and turned back to the table. "They've got a lot of equipment. It probably takes a lot of work to move them from venue to venue."

Lola's mouth pinched into her famous pout. "Why are you being such a negative Norman? I knew we should have picked Lacey as the designated driver. You need a beer to relax. Have a little faith in your betrothed. I can talk them into it. You'll see." With that, she flounced away from the table and strode headlong into the dense, slightly inebriated crowd.

Ryder shook his head. "Right. What was I thinking? She'll probably have them signed on before James can finish that second beer." He looked longingly at the cold mug in Briggs' hand.

"Sorry, mate," Briggs said smugly before taking a long swig. He swallowed and sighed. "That hits the spot all right. But Lola's right. We probably should have given someone else the designated driver position." He motioned with his head. "And now, you're really going to need that beer. She's already on her way back. Maybe it was a quick no."
I peered past the other faces into the crowd and spotted Lola. Her red hair was like a lighthouse in the fog. "She doesn't look happy but then she doesn't look sad."

Ryder laughed dryly. "That says a lot. I will brace myself for either a thrilled or devastated reaction. And yes, those are the only two possibilities with Lola. There's nothing in between."

Only, it seemed, Ryder was wrong. Lola reached the table. Some of the noise had died down as people realized they no longer had to shout over the beat of drums and the strum of an electric guitar.

She held up a business card. "Got their information. They said we should talk, but it'll be an extra fee for the late notice. The bad news is they won't be able to take any requests because they won't have time to practice. They've played some decent stuff so far, but the singer, Troy or Tripp or something like that, said their second set would showcase more of their work." Lola triumphantly stuck the business card in the pocket of her jeans. She grinned smugly at Ryder. "Oh ye of little faith, you forget that you're talking to Lola."
Ryder laughed. "No way I could forget that." He leaned over and kissed her nose. "No way I could ever forget that."

"So"—Lola looked at Briggs and me—"you two are quiet tonight. Anything up?"

Briggs and I looked at each other and shrugged. "Nope, just enjoying a night off," Briggs said. He picked up his mug of beer. "Here's to you landing the band of your dreams for the big day." I joined him for the toast.