“Well, I was thinking black and white like the club colors, and pops of blue to represent…well, at the risk of sounding cliché…me,” she says almost bashfully.
“I love it. So black, white, and hints of blue. What else?” I grab the notepad and pen lying on the end table in front of us and begin to jot things down.
“I was thinking Rock and Roll chic meets biker. So it’s edgy, but a little refined.”
The more she shares, the more her vision comes together.
“Okay, so let’s find you a motif. There’s a little place called Etsy where people make things to order, and all you have to do is print them out and go,” I say.
“Oh, I love Etsy!” Blue cries.
I laugh. “Besties for a reason.”
“Without out a doubt.” She fires the laptop up, and we pour over biker invitations.
“This is the one!” Blue exclaims, tapping at the screen. The classic Harley symbol has been turned into a crest with a place for the bride and groom’s names and a wedding date in the center. The black and silver background is perfect against the orange emblem. “The words, too. ‘Our love is a journey to forever, ending…never.’ Yeah, that’s us.”
The tender expression that comes over her face makes me grin. She’s found her happily ever after and she knows it. I envy her certainty. She had to go through hell to get it though. Maybe that’s the point I should be taking. “We’ll put the place TBA. Do you know the date?” I ask.
“Saturday, the 31st, let’s say at five o’clock.”
I enter the information and request a rush before hitting send. “Done.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to pay for it.”
“Oh, I’m not. Echo is, consider it a wedding present,” I say with a grin.
She laughs. “You’re awful, I love the way your mind works.”
“Invitations are complete. Let’s knock out the cake and the favors.”
“Favors should be something that will match the theme,” Blue says.
“What will people actually use?”
“Something edible, or practical.” She throws her head back. “Kushies. My dad loved collecting them. It’ll be the perfect way to bring him into the wedding.” Her eyes water.
I snicker. “Wait—Psycho Strong collected Kushies?” I ask.
She laughs. “Oh yeah, man, everywhere he went. He’d pick up some lame Kushie. God, we have a box full of them.”
“So, Harley Kushie it is.” I type it into the search window. “Same classic colors?”
“Yeah, with Mr. and Mrs. Shadow. I’d put Barrett, but you know how they can be about actual names.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I do. How many do you think we need?”
“Jesus, no telling. Let’s say 350. I mean, if we have too many, no one’s going to get butt hurt.”
“Truth,” I reply, and type up the order.
She waves a Visa in front of me. “It’s on Shadow now.”
I wink. “You learn fast.”
“Ha, he threatened to spank me if I didn’t let him and the club foot the bill.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t ignore him, just to get punished.”