I bury my face in my pillow and make a sound that Ruffy finds deeply concerning.
This is happening. This is actually happening.
The shop isbusy all morning, which keeps me productively distracted.
I sell three bouquets, take an order for a birthday arrangement, and successfully talk a nervous man out of buying his wife carnations for their anniversary. (“Trust me. Peonies. She’ll cry happy tears instead of confused tears.”)
By noon, I’m feeling almost calm about tonight.
Then Jo walks through the door, followed by Michelle, Amber, and Jessica.
“We heard,” Jo announces.
“Your mother called,” Michelle adds.
“I don’t need?—”
“You absolutely need.” Amber is already flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. “We have six hours. Let’s move.”
What follows is controlled chaos. Amber has brought three dress options, Jessica handles accessories, and Michelle provides snacks and commentary. Jo supervises everything while pretending she’s not emotionally invested, which fools no one.
Hazel’s daughter Kira shows up around four to handle hair, wielding a curling iron with the confidence of a surgeon.
“Stop scrunching your face,” she tells me.
“I’m not.”
“You are. It’s giving you forehead lines.”
“I’m thirty-seven. I already have those.”
“Not on my watch.” She attacks my hair with renewed determination. “My consultation fee is twenty dollars and a promise you won’t mess this up.”
“Messwhat up?”
“The whole thing—the romance, the happily ever after.” She catches my eye in the mirror. “Even I know this is a big deal, and I think love is mostly a social construct designed to sell greeting cards.”
“That’s...cynical.”
“I’m sixteen. I’m allowed.” She finishes a curl and steps back to assess her work. “But for the record? The way that guy looks at you isn’t a social construct. That’s real.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just sit there while she finishes making me look like a person who has her life together.
Levi arrives at6:58 holding a small bouquet of forget-me-nots and white roses.
“These are for you.” He holds them out, then pauses. “The forget-me-nots are a callback. To the time capsule. In case that wasn’t obvious. I’m not great at subtle.”
“I noticed.” I take the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”
He’s staring at me with an expression that makes my heart skip. “You look incredible.”
“Amber picked the dress. Kira did the hair. I had very little to do with it.”
“I doubt that.”
From upstairs comes a muffled “aww” followed by aggressive shushing.
Levi glances up. “You have an audience.”
