It was too late to get back any deposits or return stuff, even if she wanted to, which she did not. In fact, the specific orders, delivered by her grim-faced mother, were that she “never hear about this unpleasantness again.” We could always use extra supplies for emergencies, but there was still something sad about boxing up all this stuff that had been bought, I knew, with such great plans and hopes. I reached over, picking up the cake topper: it was a groom holding a bride in his arms, both of them grinning.
“I’ll wrap up the candles and candleholders,” I said to Ambrose now, getting to my feet. I ripped open a box of tissue paper, pulling out a piece, and picked up a small blue votive. The colors for the wedding were to have been yellowand blue, the bride and groom’s favorites, respectively. “But to be honest, I never liked the whole green idea.”
Ambrose glanced over at me. “Green idea?”
“The tablecloths,” I said, nodding at the stack of them on a nearby chair. “My mom hates anything but white. But Margo was all about the symbolism, you know, of merging yellow and blue together. So for the reception, she wanted a lot of green.”
He laughed. “Man, in this business people can find meaning in everything. Even the color wheel.”
“Weddings make people do weird things,” I told him, wrapping another votive. “That’s the one truth that never changes.”
“I’m starting to understand that,” he replied.
As we worked quietly for a few minutes, I thought of Margo Wagner, a girl fond of heavy makeup and statement necklaces whom I had met a couple of times at the office. All brides tend to be obsessed with their events, but I remembered her being mostly focused on her huge engagement ring, which she was constantly turning to catch the light. Perhaps, I thought now, it was like a crystal ball, and looking into it she saw everything turning out perfectly, with yellow and blue and then all that green. Or she just liked the way it shined. Maybe both.
“So,” Ambrose said now, as I wrapped a larger pillar candle, “what’s the latest on the dating front? You’ve been awfully quiet since Alien Lover. Hope you haven’t had trouble keeping up your end of the bet.”
“Nope,” I said. “Last night I doubled with Jilly and Michael Salem with one of his friends, also a food truck kid.”
“Wow, that’s a big community, huh? It’s like homeschooling.”
“It is,” I agreed. “This guy, Martin, his parents do dumplings. I hear they are delicious.”
“And what about Martin?”
I sighed, picking up another votive. “Very nice, super cute, and totally hung up on his ex.”
He made a face. “Yikes.”
“Yeah. Her name is Eloise. To me shekindof sounds like a nightmare, but he is hopeful it’s just a matter of time before she comes to her senses.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t awful, though. At least I got to see Jilly.”
“She’s been busy?”
“She’s always busy. But now she’s in love, which means any of her spare time is all about Michael Salem,” I said.
“That always sucks. When your friends go totally MIA.”
“Nah, I’m happy for her. She deserves it.” I bent down, arranging the candles in the box at my feet. “Jilly has always been a hopeless romantic, but she’s never really had a serious boyfriend. It’s a first for her, all this walking into the sunset. So it’s huge.”
I could feel him looking at me as I stood back up, bunching up some more paper. “What about you, though?”
“I just told you. Alien guy on Monday, Martin last night, and Ben and I are trying to work out something this weekend, since I’ll be free. So not only I am totally still in this,I’m actually ahead of what we agreed on. Which is why I’m already thinking about good prospects for you when you can’t go the distance with Lauren. Maybe Eloise will still be available.”
“Maybe,” he said, and I laughed. “But I wasn’t talking about the bet.”
I looked at him. “Oh. Then what did you mean?”
“The whole in love, hopeless romantic, huge thing. When do you get that?”
“Have to win the bet first,” I said, and laughed again.
He didn’t. “I’m serious, Louna. The bet aside, you want that, right? The sunset walk?”
Immediately, I felt myself tense, my guard going up. “I mean, sure,” I said, trying to sound light, easy. “Who doesn’t? But it only happens so often.”
“You think there’s a limit on sunset walks?”
“I think,” I said, “that we’re all entitled to great loves, but not an endless amount. If you’ve had one, it takes a while for another to come around.”
