Iris and the Aloha Wedding Adventure

For my beautiful Hana

Glossary and pronunciation guide included on
page 81
.

Flower Girl World: Iris and the Aloha Wedding Adventure

Copyright © 2014 Lynelle Woolley

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Inquiries should be addressed to:

Markelle Media, LLC

12405 Venice Blvd., #350, Los Angeles, CA 90066

[email protected]

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013910675

ISBN: 978-0-9833116-5-2

Manufactured by Color House Graphics, Inc., Grand Rapids, MI, USA

August 2013

Job #40807

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www.FlowerGirlWorld.com

“Look at this one!” Iris squealed.

Iris Campbell and her mom were sitting at their kitchen table, looking at a scrapbook Iris had made. The sparkly, purple book was filled with pictures, drawings, and funny messages all celebrating Iris's first experience as a flower girl. Iris had shown this book to her mother probably five hundred times.

“Remember this one?” Iris pointed to another picture.

“Of course I remember. I took that photo, silly girl.” Iris's mom smiled.

Iris grinned too. The picture was one of her favorites. It was of her and the two other flower girls, Rosie and Starr. They were eating wedding cake, and each girl had a smear of frosting on her nose.

“You three had so much fun together,” said Iris's mom.

Iris, Rosie, and Starr had become very close friends at the wedding. Unfortunately,
they all lived in different cities. The girls had formed a club called Flower Girl World and promised to stay in touch. Iris had made everyone Flower Girl World stationery so they could write each other letters. And two different times, Iris's dad had set them up on a three-way video chat.

“I loved being a flower girl,” Iris said, pausing on the picture.

“I have some exciting news for you,” her mother said suddenly. She went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic bag filled with something pink.

“What's that?” asked Iris.

Iris's mom opened the bag, and the kitchen was filled with a smell as sweet as wedding cake. Inside was a delicate necklace of strung flowers.

“It's called a lei. I made it out of plumeria blossoms,” Mrs. Campbell said.

Iris's mom knew all about flowers. She owned a floral and craft store in Philadelphia, where she made beautiful flower arrangements for her customers.

Iris's heart skipped a beat as her mother draped the lei around Iris's neck.

“People get leis when they go to Hawaii,” Iris burst out. “Are we…?”

Mrs. Campbell grinned. “Yes, but that's only part of the surprise.”

Iris jumped up and screamed.

“What's going on in here?” asked Iris's dad, rushing into the kitchen. “Did we win the lottery?”

“We're going to Hawaii!” Iris bounded over to hug her father and nearly knocked him to the floor.

“Hold on, honey,” Mr. Campbell said, laughing. “That's not the whole story.”

Mrs. Campbell chimed back in. “Remember when we went to San Francisco last year to see your cousin Jay and his new girlfriend, Malia Lee?”

Iris nodded.

“They're getting married,” her mother went on. “The wedding will take place at the Lee family home on the Hawaiian island of Maui.”

Iris screamed again. “So we're going to a wedding! Does that mean…?”

“Jay and Malia asked me to make the lei for you as a special gift. They want to know if you will be their flower girl.”

Iris threw her arms in the air. “Are you kidding? Yes!”

“Malia has two younger sisters. Leilani, the older one, will be her bridesmaid. The younger one will be a flower girl with you. Her name is Hana.”

Iris's smile grew even bigger.

“One last part,” her mother added. “This is a very big deal.”

“Lori, I don't think Iris can handle any more excitement,” Mr. Campbell said, winking at Iris.

“Dad! Stop it! Mom! Go on!”

“We've been asked to arrive a few days early to help set up and decorate. We will be picking flowers, creating the wedding arch, making the leis and centerpieces… “

“OMG!” Iris was now jumping up and down and clapping.