Chapter Text
Even Holly was impressed that she didn’t have a hair out of place with all the scrambling she’d done throughout the day. If asked, she’d do advertisements for this hairspray brand, and likely, with an event of this scale, that might happen. This was the first moment she’d had to herself in the bustle of it all to make sure she still looked as presentable as she did at the start of the day. She shouldn’t have doubted herself, but sometimes it was best to check on these things.
Of course, some of the guests were rowdy, and the schedule for the day was positively mad, but she’d seen worse. They’d all seen worse. In all honesty, Holly was actually in her element. This was the sort of thing she’d spent her life training for. Not Visitors nor hostile coup d'etats—organizing and keeping grand events of the strictest schedule all the while everything moves so smoothly not a single guest could even realize there was a schedule.
In short, she was thriving.
She took a sip of her champagne, more to wet her throat than for courage. She was quite confident. George had handled the food and beverages, which even she had to admit he’d outdone himself. The single glass of wine she’d had earlier had been the perfect balance of sweet and earthy, and the hors d'oeuvres were exquisite. She couldn’t wait to see what dinner and dessert had in store, but there were some important moments that needed to come before that could happen. Once that was completed, she’d welcome another glass or two of champagne to truly celebrate a job well done.
“Oi, Munro! We’re about ready, are you?” Flo shouted through the door. Even she had managed to clean up for this. Granted, she’d been much better about that sort of thing in the last few years. Therapy was a wonderful thing that Holly had mandated every member of Lockwood and Co take part in. There’d been some groans, but unfortunately for the lot of them, she wouldn’t back down for their whims any longer. They’d submitted sooner rather than later, and all still attended—thankfully.
Holly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Be there in a minute, non-metaphorical!”
“It had better be,” Flo huffed. “I think some of those little imps are going to mutiny and take the cake by force. I know we were told there was a brood, but I hadn’t believed it.”
She chuckled. “I sent the invitations and did the seating, and I’m still shocked by the sheer amount.”
Flo sighed heavily enough to be heard on the other side of the door. “Well, I’ll be off. Get down there soon.”
Before Holly could dignify that with a response, Flo’s heavy footsteps were already heading down the hall. It hardly mattered. She’d be following her soon enough back into the fray. The smile came easily back onto her face—there was no need to even slightly force it on such a happy day. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so at ease.
As she made her way down the hall, Holly directed the stragglers to find their way to the reception hall. She righted a vase as a brat—er, tyke—nearly knocked it off its stand. She sent them on their way with a stern look that made her wonder if they were used to such things—it was hard to tell with their mothers’ mannerisms and the children’s actions. She knew their Aunt Lucy would’ve been twice as harsh. The sisters were at odds on raising children, which led to a lot of little balls of havoc running amok, but nothing that Holly couldn’t handle.
The grounds were as stunning as when she, Lockwood, and Lucy first viewed them. The gardens played a lovely backdrop that kept the other decorations to a minimum, which was a very Lucy touch. The guests hovered around their seats, sensing that it’d be time to sit soon. George was already sitting at the head table, chatting with Flo who leaned against the side of it. Her seat was at a table with Barnes just off to the side along with Kipps and a couple other companions from their wilder days.
Holly stood in front of her own seat at the head table. She lifted the flute that had been placed in front of her spot with a lovely pour of champagne in it. With a few taps to the side of her glass, enough conversation died down.
“Excuse me,” she announced. “If everyone could make their way to their seats, we have some speeches to give before we reach the part you’re actually waiting for—dinner.”
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd as they acquiesced. Holly watched as Lockwood and Lucy made their way to the table, hands connected as they so often were when the two were together. Lockwood looked much like he did day to day except this tux fit properly, even with the money they’d received in recent years, he still had a tendency to pick too-short trousers. Lucy’s dress looked as stunning as when they picked it out together. The layers upon layers of lacy material flowed around her, stopping above her ankles so there’d be no tripping. Holly had even managed to special order a pair of white combat boots that were a bit at odds with the cap-sleeved gown, but so undeniably Lucy that Holly couldn’t find a fault with it.
The couple flashed a smile at her as they made it back to the front table. They grabbed their glasses to take a quick sip, but not drain them before the speeches. Holly was pleased that the something blue manicure hadn’t been chipped yet, which was certainly a feat. Lucy’s curls still bounced as she plopped into her seat—the day had been kind to both of their hairstyles, and Holly was thrilled her hard work was lasting.
Once everyone had found their seats, Holly continued, “Thank you all for coming to celebrate The Lockwoods on their special day. Each of you have helped make this day something to remember.”
“As many of you know and for those who don’t, my name is Holly Munro. I’ve known the couple since—well—way back in the Black Winter Era if you can imagine that. It feels like a lifetime ago,” Holly admitted and the crowd let out their own murmurs of agreement.
She steadied herself back to the speech she’d planned. “Things didn’t start out great when I first started working at Lockwood and Co which is actually a bit of an understatement. Luckily, with time, I got to stand beside two of my closest friends as they said ‘I do’ together. Lucy has become something of a younger sister to me, which is not a new role for her as many of you here today know personally. She has the ability to make you want to strangle her one moment and then dote on her the next down to an art. It’s one of the many art forms she’s become particularly adept at, though I admit her water color is more of a favorite to me.”
Now the crowd was laughing fully as Lucy rolled her eyes beside Holly, a fond smile on her friend’s face. Lockwood smiled at his wife as if there wasn’t another soul around them. The scene with the gardens in the background felt like something out of a fairytale. Holly knew her wedding planning business would take off after this, but she was more thrilled that it seemed she’s curated the perfect day for her friends.
“Today, in an effort to show everyone just how much Lucy and Lockwood have grown together, I’m going to tell you about how we all started to get to know each other. It’s a rough story littered with awful advice in an attempt to be a heartbreaker, the inevitable heartbreak that came from that, and a mending of it all through slightly more sound advice. But, if there’s anything you take away from this whole affair, it’s these two things. First, no amount of good advice can compete with time. Everything will come together on its own timeline. And then, no amount of bad—truly just terrible—advice can stop what’s inevitably meant to be.”