Page 28 of Save the Date
“Not so fast,” Bert said. “She wasn’t calling to complain. Actually she was calling to thank you for making Torie’s day so amazing. Her phone’s been ringing off the hook from calls from all her friends, wanting to know who did Torie’s flowers.”
“Really? Lillian was actually pleased about something? That’s a first.”
“‘Tickled pink’ were her exact words. And,” he added, then paused for drama. “She also wanted to ask a huge favor.”
“Such as?”
“She’s giving a baby-shower luncheon for Torie’s cousin Lindsay at the golf club tomorrow, and it just occurred to her that she’d love for us to whip up a few ‘teensy’ little centerpieces, and a corsage. I told her no, of course. There’s no way we can do something like that with no lead time.”
“Why would you do that? We can’t turn down business, especially from somebody like Lillian Fanning.”
Bert gestured toward the shop’s glass-fronted flower cooler. “Look in there. We’re cleaned out. I used the last pathetic little carnations for this hospital arrangement that just came in. All we’ve got left is some sad yellow spider mums and a few sprigs of baby’s breath. Which we both know will never satisfy Lillian. She wouldn’t have spider mums and baby’s breath for her worst enemy’s funeral. And Lamar won’t be back here until day after tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Cara stood in front of the cooler and peered inside. Bert had a point. The dozen buckets of water in the cooler were nearly empty.
“Dadgummit. I hate giving up that kind of business. Was Lillian talking about the smaller eight-tops at the golf club?”
“Yes,” Bert said. “but it doesn’t matter. We don’t have any flowers. You’re a floral designer, Cara. Not a magician.”
“How many tables?” Cara asked, reaching for her phone with one hand and her supplier’s catalogue with the other.
“Eight,” Bert said. “What are you thinking?”
“What color scheme?” Cara asked, rapidly flipping the pages of the catalogue.
“She didn’t specify. Just something pretty and springish. You’re not seriously thinking of taking this party on, are you?”
“Is the baby a girl or boy?”
“Girl,” Bert said.
“Call Lillian Fanning,” she told Bert. “And let her know there’s been a change of plans.”
Cara had her Savannah wholesaler, Breitmueller’s, on speed dial.
“Wendy? This is Cara over at Bloom. How are you?”
“Fine,” Wendy Breitmueller said cautiously. “What do you need, Cara?”
“Pink and white,” Cara said. “Springy, youthful. With maybe some silvery gray foliage? And I need something feminine and pretty for corsages, but no gigantic orchids. Maybe some pink spray roses?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Cara said, jotting down notes as Wendy listed what was available. “That sounds good. Love the idea of the tulips and the pink stocks and the foxgloves. And I’ll take all the pink gerberas you’ve got. Can you put everything aside for me? I’ll come over right away to pick everything up.”
She hung up the phone and grabbed her car keys.
“Lillian is thrilled you’ll do her flowers. But I think you’re crazy,” Bert said disapprovingly. “It’s supposed to be your day off, remember? And when was the last time you actually took any time for yourself?”
“I know exactly how long it’s been,” Cara said ruefully. “I haven’t had a real day off since the Monday before Valentine’s Day last year.”
***
Valentine’s Day the previous year had been memorable, for sure, but for all the wrong reasons. It was her birthday, but because of the business she was in, Cara rarely had time to celebrate.
That year had been crazier than usual. She’d been forced to rent a second van just to get the flower deliveries covered. And when her second driver slipped and fell and broke his ankle on the third delivery of the afternoon, Cara had gotten behind the wheel of the van in his place.
She was making the last delivery of the afternoon, to a dentist’s office on the south side of town: two dozen long-stemmed American Beauty roses to the dentist’s wife, who ran the office, for her husband, Dr. Pratt, one of Cara’s regular customers.
While Nancy Pratt was oohing and aahing over the roses from her husband in the reception area, another florist’s delivery driver had walked into the office, with a huge vase of lilacs.
