The florist glances between us, looking entirely too frightened. “I believe we can.”
“What a nice compromise,” I say as a bee buzzes near my head. I swat it away. “I think daisies and roses will go well together.”
“Especially white roses,” Lia says.
“Oh, come now, you can’t be serious,” The Beave says. “White roses? You might not be getting married in a church, but for heaven’s sake, white roses? We’re not lying to our guests.” I watch a bee float around The Beave’s head, but either she doesn’t care or has no sense for nature because she doesn’t move.
“Why would we be lying to the guests?” Lia asks.
The Beave folds her hands together and says, “Ophelia, I have turned a blind eye to your nighttime activities with my son, but not everyone is as forgiving. White roses symbolize purity, and I’m afraid you’re anything but pure.”
I watch as Lia’s cheeks grow red with embarrassment. “I don’t think that matters.”
“Oh, it matters,” The Beave says.
“Okay, then maybe pink,” Lia suggests. “Doesn’t that have to do with grace or something?”
“Grace and sweetness,” the florist adds.
“That would be good then,” Lia says just as the bee flies near her head, and I wince, knowing she’s going to freak out. “Oh my God,” she squeals as she shifts up against me, ducking.
“What on earth are you doing?” The Beave asks.
“It was a bee.” It buzzes near her head again, and Lia squeals once again while jumping toward the left. “Don’t sting me,” she calls out.
“For heaven’s sake, it’s just a bee. If you can’t handle that, how are you going to get married in the gardens at the club?”
“As long as they don’t—booooother-her-her me,” Lia says, hopping around again when the bee goes for her ear. “It’s dive-bombing me. It knows I’m weak.”
“Ophelia, you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” she says as she straightens up, just in time for the bee to hit her in the ear. “Mother of God!” Lia screams as she flails her arm out to the side, unfortunately striking The Beave right in the boob.
Plop.
And together, we all watch in horror as the fragile woman flails her arms up in the air, a croak falling off the tip of her tongue as she teeters backward.
There’s no stopping the inevitable.
We all see it happening.
She’s headed right for the stacks of hydrangeas.
And with a crash, a groan, and a tumble, the nursery falls silent as The Beave sinks into the table of flowers.
Buckets of water fall everywhere.
Hydrangea branches snap.
And a wince felt around the world appears on all of our faces.
“Get me out of here at once,” The Beave says. I rush to her side and help her out, only to quickly go to Lia’s side for protection because the inner depths of hell are about to part, and I’m pretty sure if I don’t hold on tight enough, Lia is going to be sucked in.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Lia starts, but The Beave holds her hand up to stop her.
Straightening her jacket and wiping the water from her face, she looks up at Lia and says in a voice I think was only intended for nightmares, “There will be red roses at the wedding with very minimal daisies. End of discussion.” And then she takes off, her assistant at her side.
We stand there, a touch stunned as the florist leaves as well. After a few seconds, Lia says, “That, uh . . . that wasn’t ideal.”
I can’t help it. I let out a low chuckle and say, “Who knew you would get to second base with your mother-in-law today? What did it feel like? In my head, they’re just sacs of dust.”
She coughs a few times. “Is that what I’m tasting? Boob dust?”
I let out a wallop of a laugh as I drape my arm over her and guide her toward the exit. “Just be glad your arm didn’t fly low, or else you would have a mouthful of vagina dust.”
“Vagina dust . . . isn’t that just Old Bay seasoning?” she asks, causing me to snort.
“Oh fuck . . . I love you.”
“You know, I’ve never seen someone’s blood boil in real life. You always hear the idiom, but you never actually see it.” Lia takes a bite of her burrito as we sit outside Alberto’s, one of our favorite places to go when we’re downtown. “But wow, we witnessed The Beave’s blood rippling through her ghastly veins today. It was something else.”