The Maxwell estate was one of the largest in Pismo Beach, with a wonderful view overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I had never seen the house up close before, but it more than lived up to its reputation. The house was two stories tall with large arched windows on each floor. Ivy covered the exterior of the stone house, adding to the perfectly manicured landscape. Large, sweeping trees had been planted all around the house, creating plenty of much-needed shade. White and blue flowers lined the large stone walkway to the front door, complementing the blue trim around the windows that were barely visible under the ivy.
I unloaded most of the gear onto the pavement and separated what I would use and what Becky would use. We went over the photo list one more time before making our way toward the house. The front door loomed large before us. It was made of a dark wood, almost black in color and had the most intricate Celtic carvings weaving in and out of each other creating a beautiful design across the entire surface of the door.
“Holy Seven Dwarfs!” Becky exclaimed, staring up at the house. “This place looks like it came right out of a fairy tale.”
I laughed and lifted the large, dark and rusted metal knocker hanging a little more than halfway up the door. When I let it fall it echoed with a heavy clonk-clonk that sounded less like I was knocking and more like I was hitting the wood with a battering ram. We heard people bustling around the house and within seconds someone opened the door.
“Can I help you?” a short, plump woman asked.
“Yeah, hi. I’m Violet, the photographer…” I began
“Yes, yes. They’re expecting you. Go straight upstairs, to the right, second door on the left.” The woman pointed to the nearby grand staircase and hurried away.
Becky and I stepped inside and closed the large door behind us. The interior of the house was incredible. The floors were a dark, polished wood and the grand staircase in front of us curved upwards along a blue carpet that would allow at least four people to walk up and down side by side with each other. A circular skylight cast bright, morning sun onto the staircase beneath it. More sunlight poured through the windows behind us, and little dust motes danced in the beams, giving the entryway a mystical quality. Despite the dark wood that seemed to flow throughout the entire house, everything seemed very light. There were large windows everywhere you looked and all the shades had been pulled back. To the left of the staircase, French doors lined the back of the house and opened up into the backyard. All of the doors had been pushed open and I spotted several people setting up chairs and hanging what looked like lanterns. One man stood in the middle of the yard giving orders to everyone around him.
“Could this place be any nicer?” Becky whispered, leaning into me.
“It sure beats a one bedroom condo.” I noted and started for the stairs.
Everything had been decorated for the wedding, including the staircase. White chiffon ran the length of the banisters with lilies and roses spaced evenly apart. Long strands of ribbon hung from every other post beneath the banister, all the way to the top of the staircase. The ribbons rustled like blades of grass swaying in a summer breeze as we made our way up the stairs. I reached the second level with Becky right behind me and turned to the right, making my way down the hall to the second door on the left. I knocked and readjusted the camera gear on my shoulder.
“Come in.” Annabel’s cheerful voice came through the door. “Hey Violet,” she said as I walked into the room. “We’re just starting to get ready.” She smiled the kind of smile you only ever saw on a bride: pure bliss.
“Perfect, this is my assistant Becky.” I motioned toward Becky who stretched out her hand to shake Annabel’s.
“Nice to meet you and congratulations,” Becky said with a big smile.
“Thank you.” Annabel beaming with excitement.
There were six bridesmaids in the room, still in their pajamas and bath robes, three hairdressers and two makeup artists.
“I think this room might be bigger than my entire condo,” I laughed.
The room really was one of the biggest bedrooms I’d ever seen. The four-poster king size bed sat on the far left side of the room. Along the walls, stations had been set up for each girl to get ready. Each vanity had its own giant mirror. Makeup and hair accessories were laid out on each of the vanity counters. The girls’ long red bridesmaid dresses hung from the top of each mirror. The silk of the dresses flowed smoothly like crimson water, pooling on the vanity counters. The cream carpet offset the ocean blue walls and the open doors to the balcony let fresh air and sunshine into the room.
Out on the balcony, a small breakfast buffet and iced champagne had been set up for the bridal party. The excitement in the bedroom was almost tangible. It filled the room with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Some of the bridesmaids sat on the balcony eating and chatting while another girl with curlers in her hair fished through an overnight bag. The bride was talking to one of the hairdressers and a couple girls were already at their stations, one plucking her eyebrows and another painting her nails.
I turned toward Becky and whispered, “Can you start taking candid’s of the girls while they get ready? I’m going to head downstairs and capture the setup.”
“Sure,” Becky said, setting the bulk of her gear down and preparing her camera.
“Oh, and don’t forget to get a few shots of the dress before it goes on the bride,” I instructed as I walked toward the door.
“Ok, no problem.” Becky raised her camera at the girls on the balcony, capturing their laughter as they relaxed and ate.
I walked out of the room and back down the hall to the staircase. As I started to descend the massive, carpeted path the front door flew open with a bang, startling me and stopping me in my tracks. Two guys carrying a wood box twice the size of either of them walked in.
“Need any help?” I asked as I skipped down the rest of the stairs, holding my camera to my chest as it bounced around my neck.
“Could you show us to the back yard?” One of the guys asked, huffing with effort.
“Yeah just head straight back. I’ll make sure you don’t hit anything.” I walked ahead and led them toward the French doors, then showed them over to an unoccupied piece of the patio. They stopped and slowly lowered the box.
“So, what do you have in there?” I asked when they stood up.
“It’s the gazebo the couple will stand under for the ceremony. We’re the lucky ones that get to put it together,” one of them said with a deep, sarcastic exhale.
“I’m Alex by the way,” he said, reaching for my hand and then pulling it back and wiping it on his pant leg, suddenly realizing his hands were covered in dust, dirt and sweat. “And that’s Eric.” He pointed to the other guy. He was just an inch or so shorter than his friend and had shoulder-length, wavy blond hair that was tied back into a messy ponytail.
“Hey.” Eric raised his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow. I had to suppress a laugh at his casual outfit: flip flops, board shorts and a t-shirt did not belong in the Maxwell estate.
“I’m the photographer for today, Violet Evans,” I said with a little nod toward my camera.
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Eric and Alex shared a nervous glance at the sound of my name.
“Right, the photographer. I guess we’ll be seeing you around then,” Alex said plastering a friendly smile across his face. “We’re both groomsmen.” He pointed between himself and Eric.
“Right, well you better get ready soon if you’re going to make it on time for pictures.” Everything needed to stay on schedule if I was going to get through the photo list and two late groomsmen were not a part of the schedule.