A Christmas Arrangement (13 page)

The phone rang in my mother’s ring tone, which by
total coincidence
is Darth Vader’s theme song.  Hey, I’m a Star Wars fan, alright?  I knew she’d have a little fit since today was the day Allie was leaving.  I was proud of her for calling me to vent instead of ruining Allie’s trip by being melodramatic with her.  Maybe Mom had turned over a new leaf.

“Hi, Mom.  How you holding up?”

“By a thread, Quinella.  A thin, fragile, thread.”

Uh-oh.  The full name.  Something was wrong.

“I know you’re worried.  But she’ll only be gone for a little while.  It’ll fly by.”

“Don’t even try to change the subject, missy.”  She’d pulled out the big guns with “missy.”  I had no idea what I could have done.  “I have to hear from Louise Thomas that the police were at your house last night.  Did you go to jail again?  She said there were prostitutes on your corner.  What kind of people are you mixed up with?  You know your friends are the biggest influence on your behavior.  These people are going to ruin you, Quinella McKay.  I’m going to send your father over to talk to you.  You could go to prison, you know.  Just by associating with known criminals…”

I put us on speaker and set the phone on the passenger seat while the lecture continued in its death spiral.  The MLM had struck again.  One tidbit from a member of the Mormon Ladies Mafia could be spread through the telephone calling tree system faster than a cold through a kindergarten class.

“Mom, calm down.  The police were not at my house last night.”  Technically, the car was parked around the corner in front of my neighbor’s house.  “There were no prostitutes.  I have no idea where that came from.”

“Louise said she could see a woman with trashy hair and makeup on your corner.  Her pimp was dressed up like Santa.”

“You both watch too much TV.  And that trashy woman was your daughter.”  That hadn’t come out right.  “I was dressed up in the elf costume that you sewed.”

“Are you sure?  Because Louise said...”

“Louise Thomas is eighty-four and she lives six houses down!”  I hated to talk on the phone and drive and it made a great excuse for hanging up.  “I’ve got to go, I’m driving to work.  Alex came over with his parents last night.  Jack and Eleanor got to see—” They got to see everything including way too much of me. 

“Oh!”  The shift in tone was dizzying.  “I didn’t realize the Coopers were there.”  My mother had such a couples crush on the Coopers.  They were as close to perfect as any non-Mormons could be, in her book.  Which is why I brought them up.  This wasn’t my first time around the interrogation block.  No sir.

“Are you okay about Allie?”

“Honey, I’m fine.  We’re so excited for her.  If those judges don’t give her first place, they don’t deserve their jobs.  Your father and I talked about going to see her.  Maybe you could come too.  We’ll talk later.  Say hello to the Coopers for us.”

I sure would.  If I ever saw them again.  Which was doubtful.

Today was the day everyone would see me and K.C. on TV.  A new surge of bile ruined my lovely chocolate chip cookie buzz.  Maybe I could just turn off my cell phone and have Daphne screen all the calls at the shop. 

My text message sound chirped.  Too late.  When I pulled into the back parking lot at the shop, I held my breath and read the message. 

It read, “So fun! You look great and Santa is a hoot! Great job.  Pam.”

I exhaled and read it again.  Relief.  At least one person on the committee wasn’t furious with me.

Daphne had already opened the store.  After parking Zombie Sue in the back lot, I walked around the front of the building to take a last look at what customers would see the next day at the open house.  A warm glow came from the large front window and the shop lights shined behind the flocking Allie had painted around the perimeters of the glass.  A large, cheery wreath of fresh pine boughs and brightly colored, round and finial shaped ornaments hung on the front door. 

As I entered, I could smell fresh pine and cinnamon and spice from the new line of candles displayed near the front of the showroom.  The walls were adorned with thick garlands in pine, seeded eucalyptus, magnolia leaves and holly.  The garland peaked at different intervals throughout the shop, each one set with a bow and multiple streamers in burgundy, green and gold.  Ornaments of different sizes, shapes and colors dangled from the garland, catching and reflecting the sparkling light.

The display cooler was packed with different sized arrangements in holiday colors.  Christmas music played softly over the speakers.  I was so proud of the welcoming environment my staff had created over the past month.  It had been a lot of hard work, on top of the increase of regular business that always came with the holiday season. 

“You’re here early,” I said to Daphne.

“Yeah, I wanted to get a jump on this wedding.  They’re picking it up tomorrow, right?” 

“The maid of honor will pick up the personal flowers tomorrow around eleven, and then K.C. will deliver the centerpieces after the Santa appearance.”

“Oh my goodness!  That reminds me.  I saw you on the early news this morning.”

I cringed.

“Oh, stop.  You were so cute!  And who was that Santa?  Fred, right?”

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s wasn’t Fred?” she asked.

“That was K.C.  She showed up as Santa.”

“No way!  She’s awesome as Santa.”

K.C. seemed to have magical powers.  Just when I think we’ve walked into a field of cow pies, K.C. just works her magic or sprinkles her fairy dust or whatever it is she does, and it looks as if we’ve left a pasture full of daisies.

The wedding flowers the bride had chosen were mostly white with touches of red.  We made boutonnieres and corsages out of white dendrobium orchids, stephanotis, cedar and eucalyptus.  The bridesmaid bouquets were composed of different sizes of roses ranging from stark white to cream to almost a desert sand color.  They were hand-tied designs, the stems covered in rich, crimson red, satin ribbon.

K.C. arrived and helped put together the centerpieces while Daphne worked on orders for delivery.  The centerpieces consisted of billowy white hydrangea, Douglas fir, holly—we wore gardening gloves to avoid cutting our hands—and fiery crimson roses in clear glass cubes.

The bride had chosen a cascading bouquet for herself.  White oriental lilies, roses and orchids made up the base of the flowing design.  We topped it all off with stephanotis with diamond pins in the centers and accented with red pepper berry and Italian ruscus.  The final touches were delicate strands of crystal beading, looped throughout and dripping down to form teardrop shaped caging around the bouquet.  It was a showcase quality arrangement which would be pictured prominently on our website as soon as the community celebration was behind us.

K.C. was leaving for deliveries as I left for our final committee meeting before the big day.  As she came down the steps she stopped midway.

“Shoot, I forgot the delivery slip for this one.”  Her hands were full with a low centerpiece and an arrangement in a vase.  My hands were full with a box of thank you cards all the committee members would pass around and take turns signing to send out to all the event sponsors.  She put the centerpiece down on the table I used to climb up to the ladder on the back of the building.  The table shifted with the weight of the flowers.

“You have to distribute the weight evenly,” I said.  “Here.”  I put one of the boxes of cards down on the other side of the table and it became level again. 

“Isn’t this the thing you use to climb up there?” She pointed to the roof.

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you just use the ladder I used the other day?”

“It’s a pain to get the landlord’s handyman to drive down here and unlock the shed so I can make a short trip up there.  Besides, I’ve got a system that works.  With my system I don’t have to wait for hours to get my compressor going again.  And it’s a good thing I’ve got my system, because last time we had the ladder, you were on it.  I was on the roof and back again before you’d hung two ornaments.”

“Why not just buy a ladder?”

I shrugged.  “No need.  The system.”

Once at Skinny’s, I walked to our usual corner booth.  It seemed like everyone in the diner was smiling at me and whispering to each other.  One teenaged girl pointed and her whole table of friends giggled.

I looked down to see if I’d worn the elf costume and forgotten.

“There she is, the internet star has arrived,” Duff Schneider said.  I noticed Pam biting her lip.

“Oh, you mean the news thing?” I said.

“No, he means your internet video,” Jan Jorgenson said.

“What are you talking about?” I had a feeling I was about to be embarrassed.

“Oh hush, you two,” Pam said.  “Quincy, hon, Elma’s been showing a video on her phone.  She claims it’s you and your boyfriend…”

“Nooo.”  I plunked down in the booth next to Pam.  “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Duff was all too excited to show me the video on YouTube from his iPad.  I gasped when I saw video footage of me making out with Alex in my parents’ kitchen.  It must have been from Elma’s phone.  I don’t know how she snuck into my parents kitchen without me seeing her, but I had been fairly preoccupied at the time.  I felt the tips of my ears broiling.

“Well, we’ve still got
important
things to talk about today, haven’t we?” I glared at Jan and Duff and the rest of the smirking committee. 

Elma came over to our table, grinning.  Her hair was piled extra high today.  “I thought you were banned, Quincy.”

I stood and we had a staring contest for a few minutes.  I felt a twitch under my eye, like Clint Eastwood in a gun-slinger movie.  “You’ve sure got a funny way of banning someone from your place.  You’ve been showing my video to everyone who walks in the door.  Seems you like having me around.”

“Oh you wish,” she said, staring at me, unmoving.  “I just like watching that hot boyfriend of yours in action.  Rumor is he’ll be dumping your sorry butt soon.  His mother can’t stand you, from what I saw.”  She looked at me like she’d gone checkmate.  The room had become silent as we had our stare down, but the crowd responded to her jab with dramatic oohs.

“Speaking of boyfriends, has Ned shown you his booger collection yet?”

That got ewws from the crowd rather than oohs.

“Boogers!” An old-timer growled from his bar stool at the counter.  “You getting’ boogers in my food Elma?”  He pushed his plate away and stepped down off the stool.  “I’m not having it.  I don’t want any damn boogers in my food.”

“Elma!” Skinny yelled from the kitchen, his red face filling the order-up window.  “Knock it off!  George, get back here, I’ll make you something new.  On the house.”

The old man turned and shrugged, then grumbled his way back to the hunched over position on his stool.

I took a step closer to Elma so I could look more intimidating.  But then my chest was uncomfortably close to her face and her bosoms were jabbing me in the gut.  Ick.  I stepped back a couple of inches.  “You listen to me, Elma.  You can bet I’m not the only one in that video who’s going to find out what you’ve done.  He’ll probably never want to set foot in here again.  I can try and convince him not to boycott, but there’ll be no more banning. 
And
my breakfast will be complimentary this morning.  The works.”  I gave her the stink eye.  “Got it?”

She flared her nostrils and her nose scrunched up like she smelled a dirty dishrag.  “Fine.”  She turned on her heels.

“Oh and, Elma?”

“What?” she spat out.

“Don’t even think about spitting or boogering or doing anything to alter my food.”  I pointed to my eyes with two fingers then pointed them back at her,
I’m watching you.

***

Bulgy Burger had the cutest crepe paper silver bells and garland hanging in their windows.  I noticed them every time I passed the front of the restaurant on the way to the drive-through lane.  They were antique decorations, like the kind we had in elementary school.

Simple.  Like life used to be back then.  Now life was a complicated roller coaster with deadlines and pressure.  And that was just with work.  The stress in my personal life was enough to push me over the edge.  But I couldn’t go over the edge, because then I couldn’t fulfill my responsibilities at work, and I wouldn’t have any money to live on and I would have to move home.  With my parents.  Which would really hamper my personal life.  The only thing I could think to do was order a peppermint shake with my dinner-to-go. 

Once home, I kicked my shoes off and slouched down deep into my couch.  There had to be a showing of
It’s a Wonderful Life
somewhere.

My phone rang.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Alex said.

“Hey, handsome.”  Were we sickening or what?  “I thought you had to work tonight.”

“I do.  I am.  Just taking a break.  I miss you.”

“I miss you too.  How are Eleanor and Jack?”

A not too serious sigh came over the phone. “They’re fine.  Mom feels terrible.  She keeps mentioning the change.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“My dad would probably verify it for you.  He found out there was a Jazz game tonight and got tickets.”

I inhaled sharply and felt butterflies in my stomach.  “Are they at the game now?  What time will you be done?”

He laughed.  “I’m so sorry.  My mom hates basketball.”  Of course she did. 

“Did I ever tell you how I played on the high school basketball team?”

“She hates basketball.  Not you,” he said.  He sighed.  “Looks like I’m gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“I think you’re just hiding.”   

He laughed and my insides felt warm and melty, like hot caramel sauce on a sundae.

“Did your dad go alone?”

“No, he called yours.  They should be leaving your parents’ house any time now.  I think our mothers are going Christmas shopping together.  How was your day?”

I groaned.

“That bad?”

“Elma took a little video at Christmas dinner and posted it online.”

“Don’t remind me about that woman.  Why do we care?”