My lips squeeze together, trying to hold back a smile. “What do you think of Chicago?” I ask. I know it’s dumb to feel vulnerable, but when you grew up somewhere, and have lived your entire adult life there, someone not liking it feels like a personal rebuke.I see you, and the life you’ve built, and I’ve determined that it sucks.Chicago, like all great cities, lives in the blood. There’s nothing I can do but defend it to my dying breath.
“I like it now,” Eitan says. “Winter was rough.”
I roll my eyes. “Only cowards can’t handle Chicago winters. I mean, buy a pair of gloves for godsakes.”
“Whoa.” Eitan holds his chest like I’ve shot him. “It was just an adjustment. If I was staying, I’m sure I’d get used to it.”
If I was staying,notI am staying. “Got better places to be?” I ask, bitterness still roiling.
“Unfortunately my lease is up at the end of October.”
“And you have to answer the siren call of human poop.”
He laughs. “Something like that. I’m still figuring out where I’ll go next.”
I know I’ve just met him, but it stings knowing that in four months, he won’t be here anymore. In another life, under different circumstances, I could have seen us being friends.
“This is it.” A stone three-flat sits on the quiet street, the bottom level clad in marble with glass doors. We step down to the ground floor, and inside the studio, flowers in metal buckets line one wall from floor to ceiling. The opposite wall has installations of florals set into arches, canopies, and backdrops. A long perfectly set table runs down the center of the space, leading to a neon sign on the far end that saysBaby’s Breath Bridalin electric cursive.
Pen and Josh are in the center of the studio, talking to a woman with radiant dark skin, glasses, cherry lipstick and knotless braids. Calliope wanders along one wall, running her hands over the petals.
“Hey.” Eitan announces our presence. I feel exposed beneath the harsh studio lights.
Josh turns and gives Eitan a hug. “Glad you made it,” he says to me, appearing sincerely glad I’m here.
“Ruby!” Penelope wraps me up in a hug that smells like expensive perfume. “So glad Eitan caught you.”
“Of course,” I say, trying to tamp down the shock that she even wants me to be at this appointment.
“I need a second set of eyes.” She steps to my side and hooks her arm through mine.
“What about me?” Josh pouts.
“I love you, but you’re here solely so I can refer to your coloring.” Pen pats him on the shoulder.
“This is my bridesmaid, Ruby,” Pen introduces me to the woman with knotless braids, looking quite chic in an olive green sweater dress and flats. “This is Dominique.”
“Hi, Ruby.” Dominique gives my hand a firm shake.
“We’re here!” someone shouts as the door bell chimes again. “Sorry we’re late!” Alma huffs as she holds the door open for Louise, who’s wheeling herself in on a walker. “Traffic from Winnetka was brutal. I thought people were asleep this time on a Sunday!” Alma shakes their head.
“Not a problem.” Dominique picks up a tray of champagne flutes and offers them to the group. “Is this everyone?” she asks, once Penelope, Josh, and Louise have accepted champagne. Our group comes out to seven people. I’m no expert, but seven seems like a crowd when it comes to picking out wedding florals. I shrink next to Penelope, still not sure if I should be here.
Pen begins introducing everyone. “This is Louise, my Aunt, her…” Her introductions snag on Alma.
“Aide,” Alma supplies. Pen hesitates, apparently not remembering Alma’s name. “Alma,” they say, unfazed.
“Right.” Pen’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Alma.” She turns to the rest of us. “And this is my groom, Josh; his best man, Eitan; my maid of honor, Calliope” —Pen glances at Louise to make sure she’s witnessing this— “and my newest bridesmaid, Ruby.”
“Hello, everyone,” Dominique says warmly. “I’m Dominique. I’m the owner and lead designer at Baby’s Breath Bridal. We specialize in luxury floral, and are here to meet every need to make your milestone look and feel perfect.” She glances down at her clipboard. “You’ve put your deposit down for the gilded package, so today we’re going to talk about what that can include.”
Penelope claps. “Perfect!”
Dominique walks to the long table that lines the center of the space. The table has three different centerpieces with slightly different sizes and designs. “The gilded package includes our biggest centerpiece.” She points to the largest flower arrangement on the table.
“Love.” Penelope nods.
“And we have some wiggle room for other floral installations. Miri mentioned we also need florals for—” Dominique checks her clipboard.
