The cool, vegetal smell of the flower shop instantly set her at ease.
There was nothing artificial here, no perfumed air or additional incense or vapor to telegraph what a high-end establishment it was in order to prepare whatever hapless bride walked through the door to loosen her purse strings. Compared to the several shops they'd visited in Bridgeton,The Perfect Petalwas . . . perfect. At least, for her.
The front of the shop was a long wall of refrigerated cases. Two of the cases held floral arrangements that were already made – baskets and vases, just waiting for a personalized note to be dropped into the array on a pick. The rest of the cases held buckets of flowers, in every color and variety she could've possibly wished for. It might have been overwhelming at another time, but at this point, Lurielle was just ready to be done.
"I don't know, Bluebell. This is just a li'l local shop. Are you sure you wouldn't be happier with one of those designer –"
Khash cut off as she clamped her hand around his wrist, squeezing with all her might as an elderly Naga came out of the back room from around the corner, bowing slightly upon seeing them. His skin was the same color as one of the bronzed oak leaves trembling from the branches of the trees lining her street, seeming just as paper-thin and creased with age as those leaves. The tail behind him was a muted violet, banded in a deeper shade that she suspected was likely brilliant in his younger years. His hair was a shock of white, and he peered at her through tiny oval glasses. He looked like a kindly grandfather, the exact opposite of every single pushy salesperson she’d encountered in her short wedding quest.Perfect.
"What can we help you with?" The older gentleman gave her a kind smile, which Lurielle returned tremulously.
"I was hoping we could look at your wedding portfolios? I think I'd like to set up a consultation."
The Naga gave them several binders to peruse, telling them to take their time as he turned slowly with a lurching undulation back around the corner.
"It's not too late to cut and run, Lurielle."
Khash’s voice was a low rumble, leaning sideways to talk into her hair. She made the samepspspnoise at him that she occasionally did to Junie when the terrier was acting particularly naughty in plain view.
"Will you hush? Why do you think I want to go to some fancy designer shop? Haven't we already walked out of three of those?"
Khash gathered himself up, clearly preparing to refute her point, but she jabbed a short, stubby index finger in his direction, stopping him before he began. "Zip it. I told you two weeks ago I wanted to just go with a local shop."
"Local is a relative, isn't it, darlin’?"
She scowled, forcing herself to take a deep breath and turn away.
She had learned the truth of the old adage “careful what you wish for”. She should have been more careful before she put out into the universe that she wanted help planning her wedding. Should have been a bit more circumspect in where she was voicing her frustrations and her fears. And above all, she should have had her head examined before she allowed Khash to accompany her on all these appointments. She had started off unsure of what sort of wedding she wanted to have, but now Lurielle was pretty damn certain that obtaining her marriage certificate from City Hall would suffice.
“Bluebell, I don’t think this place could do the flowers for the grand opening of a lemonade stand. Look at those shelves. You know what I don’t see? A single one’a them twisty glitter sticks. Now how are you supposed to be an establishment of class if you’re not puttin’ height on our arrangements with some twisted up glitter?”
Lurielle ignored him, flipped open one of the binders, staring down at the page, her mouth dropping open. The arrangement was lovely. White roses and pink lilies, backed by what she had recently learned was white gladiolus, with palm fronds arcing in the background to complete the shape. The casket cover matched the standing spray perfectly – roses flowing into lilies flowing into gladiolus, with an edge of greenery. Lovely and coordinated and eternal. She snapped the book shut.Burials and memorials.She nodded with whatever cruel goddess of fate was laughing at her from afar.That's right, keep it up. Everyone's a comedian.
The next binder was, thankfully, actually full of wedding photos. Hand-tie bouquets, small clusters of posies, baskets for tiny flower girls. She paused at the page of flower crowns and other small arrangements to be worn in one’s hair, admiring thehalf circlet worn by the bride in the photo.Perfect. The bouquets looked just as nice as she had seen online, table arrangements as big or as small as one wanted, with a selection of both examples.This is it. This is the place. Simple. Local. Done.
Since deciding what it was she wanted — a small Elvish-style ceremony here in Cambric Creek, one to which she could invite her grandmothers — Lurielle had been all too eager to hand the responsibility off to a wedding planner and wash her hands of the headache.
She could describe her wants in just enough detail that she was comfortable passing it on — an Elvish-feeling ceremony, but nothing that required any observance of old-fashioned traditions. It didn't need to take place at the sun temple. They didn't need to exchange promises in high Elvish, no one needed to barter with her for her hand, and she certainly didn't need all of the pomp and over-the-top extravagance of a club wedding. The endless flowers, the exchange of jewels, the wishing well — she didn’t need any of it.
All she needed was a group of their family and friends, a picturesque tree, someone to perform the hand binding, and a small bouquet of flowers for each of her friends. That was it. A little ceremony and her blue dress and she would be happy. Khash and his clan could throw however large of a fire vow ceremony they felt necessary, and she would be there with bells on. She had decided her fitting room friend Vanessa was right.Outsource the dirty work.
She had never in a million years expected her plans to be hamstrung by the one person who'd claimed she could do whatever she wanted.
Khash had frowned when she mentioned the idea of hiring a wedding planner. "Bluebell, do you really think that's necessary? You’re the one who said you wanted to control the budget,darlin’. I thought half the fun of getting married in the first place was plannin' the party."
Lurielle squinted at him from the other side of the kitchen the night he had the bald audacity to say that to her. “Said literally no one ever. Did you just hear yourself? The wedding industrial complex is a multi-billion-dollar machine and wedding planners are a vital part of that for areason. Because it's too complicated for anyone sane to want to deal with! It would be so much easier to just hand it off to a coordinator then we can just show up on the big day and have a blast."
He's not argued with her, but she'd been able to tell he was pouting.You’re hurting his feelings by cutting him out of the planning. Just because you don't like doing this doesn't mean he doesn't want to be a part of it. It's not justyourwedding, after all.He'd been so sullen over it for the next several days that she’d relented, making appointments with both the florist off the highway and the multi-species, non-denominational moon temple in town, hoping to book their lovely party room.
It was then that she’d learned something heretofore unknown about her fiancé. Something, Lurielle realized after the fact, she should have already suspected. She already knew Khash liked the finer things in life and considered himself to be a refined gentleorc of good taste. What Lurielle didnotrealize was that his expectations were far loftier than her own, as judgmental as any elf dowager at the club, and that when he perceived that a competition existed for resources, it ignited some obstinate, competitive corner in his brain.
"I'msosorry. We have the Hemming wedding in June and that's going to take up the bulk of our man-power in the lead-up. It's a week-long commitment we've already made. Just setting up for it is . . . Well, I don't even like to think about it right now. You know we’re just a small non-profit, we don’t have much staff for these types of things. If you wanted to push back to July,though, as long as it’s not Mothweek, I'm sure we could fit you in."
The mothwoman was apologetic, if nothing else. Her long, spindly fingers knitted together before her, fluffy antenna bobbing as she gave Lurielle and Khash an apologetic smile.
Lurielle had been about to accept the compromise.July is going to bereallyhot and you're going to sweat through your dress, but what other choice do you have? Are you going to waste an entire year not being married when you should be combining your lives and making memories together, starting a family?
Ris had questioned her accelerated timeline for making things official and she had sidestepped the question, not wanting to voice her thoughts out into the world a second time. If you say it three times it might come true, like that woman in the mirror.
