Private plane companies were on her speed-dial.
Catering and cloth goods companies had their supplies ready and stored to avoid dust or must.
Florists hovered their fingers over the purchase buttons, ready to place large orders of flowers for the decor and bouquets.
Their wedding clothes were packed into garment bags in Flicka’s closet, ready to be driven to the plane. The final fittings and steamings would occur directly before the ceremony.
Flicka teetered on the edge of the start line, ready for the race to begin.
Because,surely,at some point, Rae would be okay, and the wedding would happen.
The other option was unthinkable. Flicka refused to consider it.
Dieter Schwarz skulked around the house, keeping out of Flicka’s way during the days and being perfectly pleasant when they were cooped-up together at Wulf’s long dining table for supper.
Wulf had his supper on a tray upstairs with his wife, of course, though he often came down for dessert or a glass of wine, afterward.
Every night, Dieter and Flicka dined with Yoshi, who had also stayed at the residence in the awful case that he would be needed. Yoshi played the perfect host at supper and did not seem to notice the tension between them. Every night, he selected a cultural or political topic for them to discuss, and they dived in whole-heartedly and debated with good humor and equanimity.
While Flicka silentlyseethed.
But she snapped her shiny princess armor shut and debated prettily every night with Dieter, Yoshi, and eventually, Wulf.
She said nothing that might have been construed as passive-aggressive. None of her sentences might have included a barbed double entendre. She was the soul of pleasantry.
For a week.
A whole damn week.
Flicka had to do something else.
The nursery required assembling and decorating.
Flicka turned her attention toward the baby’s needs.
TheWelfenlegionwere conscripted to assemble Rae’s top ten choices of cribs and display them where she lay on the bed, laughing the whole time at the spectacle.
Flicka organized the crib parade, extolling the safety and design virtues of each like a beauty pageant or game show host as tall, strong men wheeled the beds around the room for Rae’s inspection.
Rae made a sound choice rather quickly, and Flicka was pleased.
Though she was again rather too idle.
Another week of scorching weather and blazing light outside the windows passed.
Flicka pled a cold virus and hid in her little suite for two days, but she soon realized that the unusual flowers in her room were giving her allergies. As soon as the odd yellow blooms were removed, her eyes and nose cleared up within hours.
Dammit.
She rejoined the household and hung out with Rae.
Some flowers went out of season in the middle of July, and would thus be unavailable for any wedding that might occur. Substitutions had to be decided.
New flowers were selected.
They were beautiful.
Another week of perfectly balanced stasis and torturous dinner parties with Dieter, Yoshi, and the belated Wulf.
