“No, because you’re not thinking about the fallout of not going. Do you really want to be the source of sad gossip? Like, right now you have the benefit of sympathy on your side, Ranar. But do you want people to think you’re pathetic? There’s averyfine line betweensympathetic and pathetic, and once you cross it, there’s no going back. You have everyone’s sympathy right now. It’s a family business, your dad is sick, big corporate bad guy. Everyone feels for you! But if you don’t put in an appearance at her open house, that sympathy is going to turn ugly. ‘Oh, he’s probably at home. I wonder if he’s going to lose his house. He’s probably not going to be able to take care of his parents. He should have closed years ago and turned it into a barbecue joint. If it wasn’t already a failing business, she wouldn’t have shut it down so quickly. I heard he’s never even been on a date before.’ You don’t want any of that, believe me.”
Ranar did turn, finally. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with any of that, Grace. With friends like these —“
She threw another roll of tape at him, this one bouncing off the front of his shoulder. “No, don’t give me that. You know I’m right. The people of this community love nothing more than talking shit about each other. Don’t give them ammunition. Youhaven’tbeen beaten by this. You are going to clean up really nice, you’re going to slither into her shop, drink her free champagne, take one of her little flower seed packets or whatever the hell she’s giving away, and your going to laugh andsmile and look like you’re having a grand old time without a care in the world. You let everyone see thatyou’rethe bigger person and keep their sympathy.”
He hated admitting that she might be right. Gossip was the lifeblood of this community, and Ranar didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of it.
Ruma was overjoyed that he was going out, even though it was decided that she would stay home. He had considered bringing her along. Even Grace had to give it serious thought, admitting there was no better way to engender sympathy than showing off his adorable, bubbly daughter, reminding the whole town that he was a single father being put out of business.
“I don’t know, I feel like it punches the wrong button. It would be different if your ex was dead.”
“Grace, for fuck’s sake!”
“I’m just saying! Everyone loves a widower! Widowers are hot, we would be beating women off of you with a stick. But a divorcé? Ehhhh, what’s wrong with him? That’s what they’re going to think.”
“What’s wrong with me right now is that I am friends with you. You’re acting like I’m brand new to the town and everyone is forming their first impression of me just this week.”
She shrugged, giving him an unsympathetic look. “In a way you are, Ranar. First impression after tragedy. You’ve been here your whole life, but that means you sort of become part of the town, like a light fixture. But now you’ve been the source of hot gossip these last few months, and you’re coming out the other side of itnotthe victor. People will be forming their first impressions all over again.”
“You know what I think? You spend too much time with Tris.”
Ruma would be staying home for the event, removing the buffer of her youth and charm, which he had no problem admitting that he had been planning on using as a securityblanket. She had still been excited that he was going out, and Ranar suspected that was the most damning indictment of his social life possible.
“You need to mog every other guy there, got it? Let me see what you’re wearing.”
He admitted he hadn’t given it any thought at that point. Ruma had dropped her head back, arms opening wide, as if she were silently imploring the heavens for an answer on what she had done to deserve him.
“Daddy, it’s atheme. You can’t go not dressed to the theme!”
She had bitterly lamented his lack of a baby pink dress shirt, fighting a war with herself over whether or not he ought to wear the very light purple or the soft dove grey she had decided were a satisfactory showing ofbeing in his flower epoch, in lieu of the pink.
When Grace showed up to collect him, Ruma had still been giving him a critical once over. “What’s the verdict, little miss?”
“I did the best I could. He wasn’t even going to follow the theme! Look at Grace! She understands!”
Grace wore a billowing pastel floral dress with huge puffed sleeves, the skirt an avalanche of organza ruffles. Her mountain of blonde curls spilled over her shoulders, pinned back from her face, and she carried a shiny, beaded clutch.
“Are we going to a flower shop open house or the prom?!”
“Calm down. You heard her, it’s the theme. We’re in our flower epoch!” She twirled, letting the skirt of her dress swing. “Do nagas even go to prom?”
“They do when they go to high school a mile down the road. I don’t know what the two of you are so worried about,” Ranar added testily. “My plant friend told me I’m sigma. I thought that was good.”
“That’s the best,” Ruma promised, accepting his forehead kiss. “Isshegoing to be at the party? Don’t forget! Gag her with rizz!”
“This kid has made it her life’s ambition to set me up,” he grumbled once they left his parents’ house, his mother and Ruma both waving from the window. “Look at the two of them. Conspiring against me. You should hear them. They think I need to ask Sumi out, forgive her for everything. They’re practically planning our future together now.”
“Well, I think they’re right,” Grace laughed. “If you remember, I was in favor of meeting you here, specifically to facilitate you getting laid tonight. You are your own biggest enemy, babe.”
The shop was beautiful, as he knew it would be.
A wash of dusty pink and grey-backed lavender swirled the walls, with bunches of flowers tied and suspended from the ceiling. a long wall of cooler cases, shelving holding bases and small planters, and there in the corner, lit with twinkling lights, stood a strangely majestic tree. It looked like something from an old growth forest, and Ranar wondered how much they spent on its care and transport in the delivery to its new home here.An obscene amount of corporate money, just for effect.He couldn’t hold back a somewhat disgusted snort of laughter at the social media ready backdrop, complete with a neon logo, just at the front door.Ridiculous.
Although, he couldn’t help noting there was a line before it.
Obviously this flyer had gone out to more than just the other local businesses, for the coltish young women lining up to pose together before the wall of greenery in short, voluminous floral dresses certainly weren’t any owners he recognized. Selkies and shifters, kitsune and a beautiful cervitaur, harpies and mothwomen. Everyone, it seemed, understood what the flower epochtheme entailed. These young women had gone all out dressing for a flower shop open house, and were posing as if it were the social event of the season.
“Oh, she’s good, Ranar. She’s really fuckin’ good.”
