The Art of Arranging Flowers (25 page)

H
EY,
what are you doing here?” I followed Clem to Will, who was putting a pink rose at his mother's site and one at the new grave dug beside it. I assume he got them from the church and from the bucket of flowers to be handed out as people leave.

He shrugs. “I just missed them.”

I nod.

He sits down in front of his mother's grave and I make a place beside him.

“Everybody at the church?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I told Jenny I'd be right back.”

“How did the meeting with the judge go?”

He shrugs again. “Okay, I guess.”

“Did you like him?”

“He had hair growing out of his nose.”

“Like Mr. Jackson?” I ask, remembering Will telling me about the guidance counselor at his school.

“Yeah. It was kind of gross.”

I nod.

“Cooper said you were probably out here.”

“Well, he was right.” I pick a few rocks from under me and smooth down the place where I am sitting.

“He also said that you were acting weird all day.”

I smile. “Coop exaggerates,” I tell him.

“He said you were trying to add bark to the orchids.”

“What's wrong with that?” I hadn't exactly remembered doing that, but it wasn't that unlikely, the way I was feeling.

Will turns to me as if I have just said something most outrageous. “You don't add bark to them. It dries out the plant. You use sphagnum moss for orchids.”

I punch him in the arm. “You're too young to know that much about orchid care.”

“I only know what you've taught me,” he answers.

I study the boy. He is beautiful with those long lashes, those big brown eyes. He can see I'm admiring him, and he blushes and turns away.

“So, how's it been with Jenny?”

“She's cool,” he replies. “She and Justin have Xbox and Blu-Ray.”

“What's that?”

He gives me that look again, and I grin.

Now he hits me in the arm.

“I know what they are, it's those cartoon channels on cable.” And I rub my arm because he packs a punch with that little fist.

He rolls his eyes. “Clementine doesn't go sniff around the fence anymore?”

I glance over at the dog resting in front of us beside the headstone.

“No, I think she's decided that she's smelled enough from that corner of the universe.”

Will picks up a stick and tosses it near the fence.

Clementine yawns.

“It ain't happening,” I say.

“When did you come get the flowers?” he asks, referring to the arrangements that had been placed at his grandmother's grave after the service.

I turn to the grave beside us and see that there are still a few bouquets left, the ones with heartier blooms. Most of the others had wilted and died sometime during the day. Sometimes I collect them so that the family doesn't have to bother with them.

“Yesterday,” I answer. “I figured it would be okay with you and Claude to pick them up.”

He nods. “There were a lot of them.”

“Yep,” I say. “Juanita had a lot of friends.”

“She told me that friends are the family members we get to choose.”

“That makes sense,” I agree.

“What about family members?” he asks.

And I don't follow him. “What about them?”

“Do you think we choose them, too?”

“You mean like before we get here?”

“Yeah, do you think we're given to a certain person because we need them or they need us?”

I study him. “Who have you been talking to?” I ask. The question sounds like it is way above his head.

“It's just something I heard,” he answers.

“From where?”

“From Captain Miller.”

“You talked to Captain Miller about choosing your parents?” I didn't even know that Will had spent much time with Dan.

“He came over after Grandma died. He brought me some books about space, a couple of his model airplanes.”

I nod. That sounds like Dan. “And he told you we're assigned our parents?”

Will shrugs. “I asked him what it was like in outer space; you know, if it was like heaven and there were angels and stuff.”

I'm paying attention.

“And he told me about how he figured some things out when he was there, how he felt like he was a part of everything and in everything, and that everything and everybody is connected.”

“Yep, he told me the same thing,” I say. “It's a little freaky, I think.”

“Anyway, I asked him if he thought there was some big plan of the universe, like they say in church.”

“Okay.”

“And he said he thought there was, and especially when it came to the people in our lives. He said that we find the people we need and that they stay with us until we don't need them anymore. And then they go to another planet and they find someone else.”

“Hmm. And what do you think?” I ask the boy.

“I like it better than just thinking they die and leave us.”

I close my eyes and think about it. I must say I like it better, too.

We don't speak for a few minutes. There is a little noise from the road, a dog barking in the distance. Clementine hears that one too. She rises up.

“So, it's official?” I ask.

Will turns to me. His face is a question mark.

“You and Jenny and Justin? You got adopted.”

And he looks away without answering.

“They're real nice,” he says, and I suddenly feel strangely light-headed, as if I may faint or fall. I feel unstable and I reach down to hold on to the ground.

“What?” I ask.

“I'm going to stay with them,” he adds. “You know, for a while.”

“But you didn't get adopted?”

He shakes his head, and it's as if my chest is going to burst.

I close my eyes and feel his slender hand on top of mine.

I take a breath, the air filling my lungs, my cells thick with oxygen, and I am suddenly and completely conscious while the thin edge around me loosens and falls open.

T
HERE
'
LL
be lilies.”

Nora has just told me her news. She'd burst through the front door like a police officer making an arrest. She glows.

“Of course we'll have lilies,” she replies. “Those pretty pink ones that have the little lip of green.”

“Callas,” I say, knowing exactly the one she means.

“Yes, pink and yellow calla lilies.” She claps her hands. “Divine.”

I also decide to order a few stems of the white orientals, adding a little touch of class.

“And I want you and Will to walk me down the aisle. Carl will do my hair and makeup. And I will buy a new dress.”

“Nordstrom's?” I smile.

“Of course.”

“I'm not sure I can handle another shopping trip to Nordstrom's.”

She laughs.

“Will it be an outside venue?” I ask.

At the moment I'm still working on Vivian's wedding. She's changed her mind again, shifted themes from Asian to French country to seaside, even postponed it by a couple of weeks, and I told her that I refuse to place an order with Cooper until she is absolutely certain of what she wants.

I wish now I had never played with that fire. Vivian is more complicated than I imagined. I'm not sure Conrad knows what he's gotten himself in for.

“Outside, inside, I don't care; I'm too old to be worrying about all those silly details.” She fans herself and moves behind the counter. She opens the register and takes out twenty dollars. “I didn't get a chance to pick up the wire you needed,” she explains, and closes the drawer.

“Does Jimmy have a preference?” I ask. I'm arranging the same orchids that were used to seduce Vivian. She suddenly remembered what an effect they had on her, and today she thinks she wants to use those for her bouquet. I'm putting a few small bouquets together so she can get an idea of how they would look. It's only two weeks until the new date of the blessed event and I know that if she wants orchids, she needs to decide now. It always takes a little longer to get those from the buyer.

“Jimmy doesn't care one way or the other. He just wants me happy.” She clutches the money to her chest. “He's such a good man; I don't know why it took me so long to notice.” Suddenly she understands what I'm doing. “Why are you messing with the orchids? I thought Vivian was going Asian.”

“She said she thought she was too big to go with an Asian theme, that she kept looking at all the websites and pictures and that all the brides were tiny little women and she finally decided that she was too tall for the patterns and décor.”

Nora shakes her head. “You know, they seem like normal, well-balanced women and then they get an engagement ring and they just fall off their rockers.”

“Well, be careful what you say . . . you may turn into a bridezilla, too!”

She waves away the comment. “All I care about is the cake. I want a big, frosted, fattening chocolate cake.” She holds out her arms to demonstrate how large a cake she means. It's big.

I look at her and smile and I suddenly remember the last time she acted like this. It was when Will and I arrived at the church and broke the news, and she opened her arms wide and ran clear across the parish hall, picked us both up and swung us around. I'm pretty sure she's had weekly appointments with the chiropractor since then, but I think even knowing what she knows now about picking up people, she'd do the same thing again. Like everyone close to us, she is still overcome.

Even Justin and Jenny seemed pleased, claiming that they would never have wanted to force themselves on Will if he had wanted something different. And the adoption party stayed true to its original purpose; it just changed celebrants. Will moved in with me that night and until we find a bigger place, I bought a sleeper sofa and his bed is in the living room. Since he doesn't have his own room yet, I did splurge and buy him one of those game boxes and already every night I feel I am failing as a parent when I hear him still playing after midnight. But it is summer and he sleeps late and so far, three weeks and counting, I haven't screwed things up too badly and I also know that I have not felt this complete, this happy in a very long time.

“I can't believe you're getting married,” I say, stopping what I'm doing and taking in Nora's glow.

She appears surprised. “Of course you can,” she replies. “You called it long before I did.”

And I have to laugh. I do recall the comment I made about the two of them, the comment I still feel sorry about. “So, how did he propose?”

“He didn't propose,” she answers.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Well, if I had waited around for him to propose we'd be decorating for your wedding long before mine.”

“You then? You proposed to him.”

She holds out her hand, a big diamond flashing on her ring finger. “Bought my own ring too.” She studies it. “We used his Visa, of course.”

“Of course,” I respond.

“I just was so happy about you and Will and all the love in this town and Jenny's good health and I started thinking how time is flying past and if you love somebody you ought to get on with it. And that's what I'm doing.”

“And that was your proposal to Jimmy, let's get on with it?”

“Something like that,” she responds, and then moves around me, taking a seat on the stool. She puts the twenty dollars in her purse.

“Will there be a honeymoon?” I tie two single-stem cymbidium with a full bunch of Hawaiian dendrobiums. I hold it up and show Nora. She wrinkles her forehead. She doesn't approve.

“Too many,” she says.

And so I take away the green and purple orchids and try the cymbidium with a couple of stems of phale. It looks a lot better.

She nods her approval.

“Jimmy is still on probation and isn't supposed to leave the state, so we may just go over to the coast for a few days.”

“That'll be nice for fall.”

“Fall?” She sounds surprised.

“Isn't that what you're thinking?” I ask, glancing over at the calendar and seeing that it is already mid-July. I figure every wedding needs a couple of months to plan.

“We're planning next weekend,” she announces.

“Next weekend?” I put down the flowers and turn to her, my mouth falling open. “You can't be ready by next weekend.”

“What's there to be ready for?” she asks. “We get a license from the courthouse. We ask the doggie doc to meet us somewhere. I have an arm full of calla lilies, a chocolate cake from the Mennonites, and my three best friends. What else is there?”

“Music, invitations, birdseed, those little mints with your names printed on them . . .”

She waves her hand in front of her face. “I'm sticking to John Lennon on this one.”

I wait.

“All you need is love.” She smiles.

“And lilies,” I add.

“Okay, I'll go with you and Lennon. All you need is love and lilies.”