“That’d be wonderful,” she replies, wiping sweat from her brow.
“You didn’t pick these all by yourself, did you?”
“No, no,” she says, swatting away the idea. “Grant did. Early this morning. He filled about thirty of these buckets too. Guess he wanted to make sure there was enough for the arrangements.”
I try to mask my shock. Grant doing anything without personal gain is a new experience for me, but I’m glad to know that he’s growing.
“Meredith always told me that he would do anything to make her happy but watching him get sunburnt in that field really proves it.”
“Why didn’t he bring the buckets down here himself then?” I ask, placing them at the entrance of the tent.
“Oh, we were hiding them at my place. Afraid Susan might get one of her henchmen to sabotage them.”
“Makes sense,” I reply, sympathetically.
“A little birdie told me you were the one to give Grant that shiner he’s walking around with.”
“Not my best move,” I admit, knowing that Mira’s going to have to spend hours Photoshopping it out.
“Perhaps it’s what needed to be done,” she assures me. “Bottling up emotions like that isn’t good for your health.”
“I don’t think punching him was good for my health either,” I say, stretching out my hand.
“Who knows, maybe this was just the thing you needed to move forward.”
“Maybe,” I shrug, not putting too much stock into her assessment.
“I think this is a new chapter for you,” she beams, taking a few stems from the bucket, admiring them together, before adding another. “I can feel it. Your energy has shifted. It’s much lighter today. As if you’ve let go of what was holding you back. Perhaps so you could move on with a certain photographer.”
I raise a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. It doesn’t take a psychic to see your connection with Mira,” she replies mysteriously. Then adds, “Plus I saw you two sneak in the cabin together last night.”
“Ah,” I say, handing her the pair of shears she’s reaching for on the table.
“It’s okay, dear. I should have warned you that your relationship with Katherine was never going to work. A Virgo and a Sagittarius. Outrageous pairing.”
“What about a Virgo and a Taurus?” I ask, recalling the daily horoscopes Lilah would read for us at the bar.
“Two earth signs!” Vivianne squeals in delight, clasping her hands together, causing her bracelets to clang. “That’s harmony.”
I’m elated to know that the stars are on our side, as Amelia stalks up to us, stress written all over her face.
“What are these?” she asks, inspecting the wildflowers as if we’ve just hauled a herd of livestock to the wedding. “It doesn’t matter. They have to go. We have a shipment of roses coming in momentarily and—”
“Send ’em back,” Vivianne says with a stern authority I’ve never seen before.
Amelia stands back flustered. “But Susan said ...”
“My niece wants wildflowers for her wedding so she’s getting wildflowers,” Vivianne replies, grabbing a pair of shears from the bucket, wielding them like a weapon. I watch the struggle on Amelia’s face, as if she’s weighing up whether this is worth the fight.
She concedes, rubbing one of the petals between her fingers. “But if Susan asks, I’m sending her straight to you.”
Vivianne gives her a solemn nod in return before Amelia flees to the other side of the tent to micro-manage more vendors.
“I don’t mind helping if you need an extra hand,” I offer, watching as she begins gathering flowers into simple bouquets, cutting the stems and placing them into glass vases on the tables.
“I’d appreciate that,” she says, resting her hand on my shoulder. “And I’d also appreciate help with the rest of those buckets.”
