Too Many Blooms (7 page)

I wondered if that was a dig at the competition, since Flowers on Fairfield,
Serving Your Floral Needs Since 1912,
is pretty much the florist for the early twentieth century.

Despite myself, my fingers itched to design a virtual bouquet. Becky reached for the mouse at the same time, but I won. I had just chosen a tall, fluted vase and was considering my floral options when the store’s phone rang.

“I’ll be right back,” the woman said pleasantly.

I was trying to decide between dendrobium and calypso orchids when I heard the blonde woman say something that made my blood freeze.

“Thank you, Corinne,” she said into the phone. “I look forward to seeing you and Olivia tonight at five o’clock. I can personally guarantee that Fleur will create the wedding of her dreams!”

Becky looked at me, wide-eyed, and I could only stare back at her in shock. So it
was
true — we’d lost our biggest customer! Mom was going to be so disappointed. I felt terrible.

The blonde woman hung up the phone and walked back over to us. “Is everything okay?” she asked, seeing our wan expressions.

“Um, we have to go home now,” said Becky. “Our mom is … I mean my mom … uh, my grandma …” Her voice trailed off. “We have to go home,” she repeated lamely.

And I couldn’t criticize Becky for her fumbling, because I wasn’t even capable of forming words at that point.

The woman seemed confused for a moment. Then she smiled and handed us each a magnet with the Fleur
website’s URL on it. “You can design your virtual bouquet at home!” she said. “As long as you have a major credit card. And your parents’ permission.”

I took the magnet and shoved it in my pocket. “Thank you,” I said miserably.

I waited until we had exited the mall before I spoke.

“Ashley!” I hissed as we unlocked our bikes.

“Huh?” said Becky.

“I know what happened,” I muttered, fuming. “Ashley told Olivia that we call her Bridezilla behind her back,” I said. “So Olivia changed florists.”

“You really think so?” said Becky.

“Oh, I know so,” I said. “I bet Ashley even told her all about Fleur. You know how much time Ashley spends at the mall.”

“Maybe,” said Becky thoughtfully.

After I dropped Becky off at home, I pedaled back to the store in furious silence. Ashley was without question the most awful person I had ever met in my life. It was bad enough when she was mean to me. But to take away my family’s business — that was inexcusable. Just thinking about it made my blood boil.

“This is very bad. Very bad!” said Aunt Lily, pacing back and forth in front of the counter. I had just filled her and Mom in on my store visit. “Twice as big! Twice as many flowers! Visual bouquets!”

“Virtual,” I corrected.

Aunt Lily glared at me. “And they’ve stolen the biggest wedding of the year right from under our noses!” She turned to Mom. “Our store is in big trouble,” she said. “We could go out of business. Your parents never should have left.”

Mom just looked crestfallen. After Aunt Lily walked out, muttering to herself, I helped Mom put the flowers back in the cooler before we closed for the night.

“True, Olivia was a handful,” Mom said with a sigh as she locked the front door. “But I put a lot of work into her wedding. And it was such a big order! Fifty centerpieces!” she said. Her shoulders sagged. “I can’t believe it,” she added sadly. “What a disappointment.”

I balled my hands into fists. I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom about the Ashley connection. The afternoon had been hard enough as it was.

I walked my bike between us as we made our way home. “Do you think we should tell Gran and Gramps?” I asked.

Mom, Dad, and I had decided that we wouldn’t bother Gran and Gramps with work stuff unless it was a life-or-death emergency. Otherwise, Dad said, they’d come running back to fix things. But this was starting to feel a little like life or death to me. Maybe it was time.

Mom shook her head. “There’s nothing they can do,” she said. “It will only worry them. They’ll find out soon enough.”

“But is Aunt Lily right? Can we lose the business?” I couldn’t imagine us closing up Flowers on Fairfield … for good. There was just no way.

“I don’t know, Del,” she said. “But it will happen whether or not we bother Gran and Gramps. So let’s let them get settled before we tell them the bad news.”

“All right,” I said. We walked home the rest of the way in silence. The only sound was my squeaky front wheel. I’d have to do something about that when I got home.

To say I was distracted at school the next couple of days was the understatement of the year. I accidentally took Aster’s homework folder to school with me. (She was not very happy about that, as she got in trouble.) I forgot my lunch money. My teacher called on me in Spanish class and I answered, “rosa,” with the correct accent and everything, which means pink. Which would have been fine if I were answering her previous question, which had been
What color is your shirt?
But as the class (including, I noticed, my dear friend Amy) roared with laughter, Señora Jankowski explained that I had actually answered her next question, which was
What color are your eyes?
You can understand my embarrassment. How often does your
teacher
laugh at you?

Gym class was the worst. I was forced to watch Ashley and Hamilton dancing together, and having a great time. Hamilton’s square dancing had not improved one bit. He circled left when he was supposed to go right. His allemandes were all over the place. But that didn’t seem to bother Ashley. She giggled all class long. And that just made me more and more annoyed. Especially now that I knew the truth about what she’d done.

Friday afternoon, Ashley came up to me by my locker and put her hands on her hips. “It’s offish,” she said.

“Huh?” I asked even though I had an idea of what she was talking about. I could feel myself start to get worked up.

She rolled her eyes.
“Official.
Olivia’s going with Fleur for her flowers. You know, that really gorgeous new florist in the mall?” She shook her head sadly. “I am so sorry you lost the wedding of the year,” she added. “But in the long run, I think it’s better for all involved. Imagine the things that probably would have gone wrong. It’s probably best to leave the flowers to the professionals.”

I spun around, my face hot with anger. This was it. I opened my mouth, ready to yell at Ashley for turning Olivia against us. For ruining everything.

But then I stopped myself.
Rise above it, Del,
I said to myself.
Don’t give her the satisfaction.
I took a big breath, and tried to pretend I was Rose, acting in a play. Playing the part of someone who didn’t care.

“Easy come, easy go,” I said with a shrug.

Ashley looked disappointed. She tossed her hair back. “Well, um, all that’s left now is the headpiece,” she said. “Olivia and I are going shopping this weekend.”

“That’s great,” I said, forcing a yawn.

Ashley frowned, clearly waiting for me to get upset. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. As she turned on her heel and marched off down the hall, I wished I
really
didn’t care that we’d lost Olivia to Fleur. But I did care. A lot.

Not even stopping at the store on the way home helped my mood. I walked inside to find Poppy behind the counter.

“Hi, Del!” she cried.

“Hey, Poppy,” I replied, walking up to the counter. “I thought she was with her babysitter this afternoon,” I said to Mom.

“Del!” said Mom, surprised. She sounded almost guilty. “I wasn’t expecting you!” She shrugged. “Poppy misses me. I used to be home all the time with her, remember? I figured we could spend some time together here at the shop. She really loves it.”

“I’m practicing,” said Poppy, all seriousness. She reached into the basket that hung over her arm, pulled out a handful of rose petals, and tossed them into the air. I bit my lip, deciding it was best not to tell Poppy that her chances of being a flower girl were pretty slim now.

Mom grinned. “Isn’t she so cute?” she asked me. “I missed her, too,” she confessed.

I didn’t want to hurt Poppy’s feelings, so I pulled Mom to the back of the store, to talk to her in private. “Are you serious?” I asked her. “I mean, I love Poppy, but it’s unprofessional to have her behind the counter! It’s no wonder …” I stopped.

“It’s no wonder what?” Mom asked me sharply, giving me a searching look. I instantly felt awful. Did Mom know I was going to say something about us losing Olivia? I could only look down, my cheeks burning. I didn’t mean to be cruel.

Mom sighed, and I glanced back up at her. “Del, I know you take this store seriously. And I appreciate that. But …” Her voice trailed off.

“But what?” I said. “Tell me!”

She couldn’t look me in the eyes. “You sound just like Aunt Lily.”

“Well, maybe Aunt Lily has a point!” I retorted.

I can’t believe I just said that,
I thought. I didn’t want to be like Aunt Lily. Right?

That night, over dessert, Mom was all fired up. I wondered if what I’d said to her at the store had had some sort of an effect. “We need to win our bride back!” she declared. She pointed her ice-cream spoon in the air for emphasis. “Flowers on Fairfield will not go down without a fight!”

“Could you offer her a discount?” suggested Dad. “Add a free arrangement for the church or something?”

Mom and I shook our heads at the same time. “Money is not a problem for our bride,” she explained. “I don’t think that’s going to do it.”

“It’s got to be something special,” I said, getting into the spirit. “Something to make her wedding different.”

“I know! I know!” shouted Poppy. “I could be a special kind of flower girl who follows her around
all day
throwing flower petals.”

“That’s just silly,” I said.

Poppy made a face and climbed into Mom’s lap, almost knocking over her water glass.

“That’s a great idea, Poppy,” said Mom gently. “But remember, Olivia already has a flower girl.” She gave me a stern look over Poppy’s head, and I felt bad.

“I could sing at her wedding!” Rose suggested. She stood up and cleared her throat. It doesn’t take much to encourage Rose to sing — or dance — in public.

“No thanks, Rose,” I said brusquely.

Mom shook her head at me. “That is a lovely idea, Rosie,” she said. “But I was thinking we’d do something special with flowers.”

Rose smiled at Mom and gave me a dirty look. Aster seconded it.

It was the twins’ night to clean up after dinner, so I wandered upstairs to do my homework. But I kept thinking. There had to be some way to win Olivia back.

I just had no idea what it could possibly be.

I went online and started looking at different florist sites for some ideas. A centerpiece that had never been done before. A bouquet unlike any other. But I came up with nothing. I could feel my temperature rising as my oh-so-slow computer took forever to open a website’s homepage. This was getting me nowhere. Plus, I had some extra-hard math homework to finish.

There was a knock at the door. I shuffled over and opened it. There stood Rose, two copies of the
Bye Bye
Birdie
script in her hand. “Are you ready to run through my lines?” she asked.

I sighed. “It’s not a good time, Rose,” I said. “Too much going on. I have to figure out how to win Olivia back. It’s really important.”

“But you promised you’d help me!” Rose said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Sorry,” I said. “Bad timing.”

Rose’s shoulders drooped as she turned away. “Whatever,” she said.

“All right, all right,” I said with a sigh. “Name any day next week.”

Rose thought for a moment. “Next Tuesday. I don’t have play practice that day.”

“Okay, I’ll be home by four o’clock,” I said. I shook my head and closed my door. Little sisters! They thought the world revolved around them.

Much later, I was lying in bed, tossing and turning, going over everything in my head. I thought back to the first few days after Gramps and Gran left, when Mom had just taken over the store and I was so on edge about it — and for good reason! I thought about the espionage trip
to Fleur, and what a good friend Becky was. Suddenly, I remembered something else about Becky — something she had told me a couple of weeks ago, during lunch.

I sat bolt upright in bed, then raced downstairs. Buster, who had been sleeping at the top of the staircase, padded after me. He whined in disappointment when I didn’t head to the kitchen, but followed me into the family room and promptly fell asleep on the rug. I laughed to myself, then continued on my mission. I opened the door of the entertainment unit and pawed through the jumble of DVDs. I knew it was in there somewhere. We had every Disney movie ever made, it seemed like. Too many Barneys.
A Charlie Brown Christmas. Clifford the Big Red Dog.
A whole bunch of Shirley Temple movies. All the Bloom girls had at some point been obsessed with the little curly-haired actress. I still had a soft spot for
The Little Princess.
Poppy was now under Shirley’s spell and was begging Mom and Dad for tap shoes. Luckily, they had not given in yet.

Finally, I found what I was looking for. I popped the movie into the DVD player and settled on the couch.

When I woke up the next morning on the couch, Mom
was standing in front of me, looking concerned. The TV screen was a mute blue, and Buster had abandoned me. “What’s going on, Del?” Mom asked worriedly, pulling her bathrobe around her. “Are you stressed out? Do you have insomnia?”

I rubbed sleep from my eyes. “I’ve got it, Mom!” I explained. She looked at me, puzzled. “How to win back Olivia!” Mom sat down on the couch and I told her all about how Olivia and her fiancé had met. Then I turned the DVD back on, fast-forwarded to the right spot, and pressed play.

I explained my idea. Mom nodded, a big grin on her face. “I think this just might work!” she said. “I’ll get on the Internet and do some research.” She gave me a big hug. “I’ll call Olivia right away. Del, you’re a genius!”

Everything was perfect. The lights in the store were lowered and candlelight flickered. The usually cluttered worktable and countertops were cleaned. We’d brought in a card table and covered it with sumptuous ivory linens. There were four place settings of Mom’s best silver and china, even her great-grandmother’s sparkling crystal. The centerpiece was filled with roses, hydrangeas, lily of the valley, and lilacs, with gorgeous sugared purple grapes hanging over the side, all artfully arranged by Mom. She had fussed over it for hours until it was perfect. Ivy spilled out, grazing the tablecloth. Crystal candlesticks, each with an ivory taper candle, surrounded the centerpiece.

I smiled as I set down a place card that read:
Olivia and Todd Worthington,
hand-calligraphed by Aster. One
of her odd collection of talents, which also included speed-reading and crocheting.

The bell on the front door rang and the butterflies in my stomach dipped and fluttered like crazy. Olivia, her mother, and her wedding planner, Corinne, stepped inside. After leaving a dozen messages for Olivia telling her we had a new idea, Mom had been about to give up. But then, to our utter amazement, Corinne had called to schedule an appointment with us. And we had gone straight to work.

Olivia walked over to the table, her eyes glowing. Mom pulled out chairs and the three women sat at the table. That was my cue. I pressed
PLAY
on my iPod and the music began.

It was the soundtrack to the musical that had brought Olivia and her fiancé together —
The Sound of Music.
I walked up to Olivia and presented her with a headpiece. It wasn’t just any headpiece. It was a hand-designed halo of small silvery white star-shaped flowers.

“Is it —” Olivia started to ask.

“It’s edelweiss,” I confirmed.

We had created a headpiece out of edelweiss, the flower that plays such an important part in the musical.

Olivia reached out her hands. I held my breath. Did she like it?

“How did you know …?” Olivia asked. Mom held up a mirror, and Olivia placed the headpiece on her head, arranging the yards of fine silk ribbon.

“Oh!” said Mrs. Post, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s perfect!”

“Simply lovely,” said the wedding planner.

“I can’t believe it,” Olivia said. “Edelweiss!”

“Just an example of the one-of-a-kind service you get from Flowers on Fairfield,” said Mom with a smile.

And then the song “Edelweiss” began to play. A huge grin spread across Olivia’s face. She opened her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed a number. “Listen to this,” she said, then held the phone up. She put it back to her ear. “What do you think?” she asked giddily. “I know! Me too!” she exclaimed. “See you later, sweetheart.”

She turned to us, beaming. “And now we have our wedding song!”

Olivia’s mom looked uncertain. “‘Edelweiss’ as your wedding song? Isn’t it the Austrian national anthem?”

The wedding planner blanched. “Well it’s certainly … original!” she said.

Mom cleared her throat. “Actually, the Austrian national anthem is ‘Land der Berge, Land am Strome,’” she said.

We all looked at her in surprise.
Nerd alert!
I thought.

She blushed. “I looked up
edelweiss
on Wikipedia,” she explained.

“But is the song … appropriate?” Olivia’s mom asked.

Mom smiled. “Any song that means so much to a couple is always appropriate,” she replied thoughtfully.

This seemed to placate Mrs. Post. Olivia smiled at my mother gratefully. The wedding planner looked relieved and nodded enthusiastically.

I couldn’t stand the suspense. “So is Flowers on Fairfield your wedding florist?” I asked.

Olivia nodded. “Of course!” she said.

Mom and I grinned at each other.

While Mom finalized the details with Olivia and her mom, presented the paperwork to be signed, and happily
accepted a down payment, I took the headpiece from the reluctant bride. I wrapped it in pale pink tissue paper and nestled it into a box.

“So what changed your mind?” Mom asked Olivia when they were done. “The headpiece? The centerpiece? Seeing the table all set up? The music?”

Olivia and her mom exchanged a look. “Oh, I was always going with you guys,” Olivia said hastily. She and her mom put on their jackets.

“Thank you!” cried Mrs. Post. “I know this will be a wedding to remember.”

The door jingled shut behind them. Corinne lingered for a moment, looking as if she was deciding whether to say something or not. Finally, she spoke. “You didn’t hear this from me,” she said, “but Olivia was going to hire Fleur to do her flowers for the wedding. But then she ordered one of their virtual bouquets for her mom’s birthday and she totally hated it. And there was just no time to go anywhere else!” She smiled at us. “See you soon!”

Mom and I frowned at each other as the door closed behind her. “That isn’t exactly what I was expecting
to hear,” Mom said, biting her lip. “But we’ll take their business …”

“… any way we can get it!” I finished.

To celebrate our success, Mom invited Dad, Rose, Aster, and Poppy to the store.

“We won back our bride!” Mom announced, ushering everyone in. “Thanks to Del and her
Sound of Music
idea.”

Dad admired the beautiful table setting. “You did a great job, girls,” he said to us. He kissed me on the cheek and gave Mom a big hug, lifting her up in the air.

“Me next!” squealed Poppy.

“I love
The Sound of Music
,” said Rose. “Someday I want to play Liesl,” she said, and launched into a spirited rendition of “Sixteen Going on Seventeen.” I bit my tongue to keep from reminding her that she was only ten going on eleven.

“So will the groom be wearing lederhosen?” Aster asked with a smirk.

“Very funny, Aster,” I replied.

After we took apart the wedding display, Dad manned the phones, taking incoming orders. Mom made several birthday arrangements and a very blue “It’s a Boy!” bouquet. But meanwhile, Poppy was running wild, and no one seemed to care. Rose and Aster said they wanted to help, but then they didn’t seem too interested in the jobs I asked them to do, like break down boxes, throw away dead flowers, or dust the vases. We were low on cash-and-carry bouquets, so I was arranging roses, gerberas, and statice together, rubber-banding the stems, wrapping them in cellophane, and tying them up with ribbons. I liked to curl the ends for a festive look.

Rose decided her job was going to be to greet customers. “I will be the face of Flowers on Fairfield,” she announced. She began to practice. “Welcome to Flowers on Fairfield,” she said, tightening her ponytail and striking a pretty pose. Next she tried, “We welcome you to our fine floral establishment.” Then, “Hello, ma’am/sir. May I interest you in some flowers?” And people seemed charmed by her — when she actually greeted them. But half the time, she didn’t even notice when a customer walked in.
She was too busy clutching one of my cash-and-carry bouquets to her chest, looking in the mirror and practicing her Academy Award acceptance speech. Even worse, she always seemed to leave one person out in her litany of thank-yous — me.

Aster finally
did
take the dead flowers away — but then she created bouquets out of them. To my extreme annoyance, Mom took the biggest one and displayed it on the counter! She and Dad thought it was the cutest thing ever. Two dozen shriveled roses in a vase filled with plastic spiders left over from our Halloween display. Tied with a jaunty black ribbon. Aster looked very pleased with herself.

“That’s not a good idea,” I whispered to Mom. “What kind of florist displays dead flowers?”

“Oh, Del,” my mom said. “It’s funny.” She tousled my hair. “Come on, honey. Lighten up.”

Lighten up? My entire family needed to start taking things more seriously!

At school on Monday, I was walking down the hall on my way to English class. I was a little nervous because we had
public speaking that day and I knew chances were I would have to present. That’s what life is like with a last name like Bloom. Always at the mercy of the alphabet. You’d think, just for once, they’d start with the Zs. But no, straight to the beginning of the alphabet every time.

I spotted Heather turning away from her locker, about to merge into the crowd. I waved to her and she fell into step beside me.

“How are things going at the store?” she asked.

I sighed. “I’m being overwhelmed by Blooms!” I said.

She laughed. “That’s a good one!”

I had to smile. I hadn’t meant it that way, but it sounded like I was complaining about the amount of flowers we stocked. Then I sighed. I wished that were the problem!

Just then, someone stepped on the back of my sneaker and gave me a flat tire. If Heather hadn’t grabbed my arm I surely would have wiped out. “Hey!” I said, annoyed, as I turned around.

It was Hamilton! “Hey!” he said, his face bright red. “Sorry, Del!”

I moved to the side of the hallway to pull my shoe back on. Heather and Hamilton joined me.

He frowned. “I’m so sorry. Hope I didn’t hurt you!”

“I’ll survive,” I said.

Heather cleared her throat. “Del, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

I gave her a withering glance. I knew what she was up to. “Hamilton, this is my friend Heather Hanson. Heather, this is Hamilton Baldwin.”

“Hey, Heather,” said Hamilton.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Heather primly. “Are you new?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

“I am,” said Hamilton.

“And are you enjoying all that Sarah Josepha Hale Middle School has to offer?” she asked with a bright smile.

I groaned.

“Why, yes I am,” said Hamilton. “I’ve met some really cool people.”

Just then the late bell rang. Students scattered.

“See ya!” said Hamilton, waving as he walked backward down the hall, and narrowly missing running into a boy in a baseball cap.

“He likes you!” hissed Heather just before she took off for class.

She left me sputtering in the hallway. “Wait — how …” But she was gone.

“Exhibit A,” said Heather when I cornered her at her locker after school. Amy was there, too, so we lost valuable time as Heather quickly recapped the Flat Tire Episode. Not that I was desperate to know exactly how Heather knew he liked me or anything, but still. “He smiled at you when he said he had met some really nice people.”

“Really?” I said. “Are you sure he was smiling at me and not just smiling?”

“Positive,” said Heather.

“Exhibit B,” she continued. “He backtracked down the hall after the bell rang.” She nodded knowingly.

“Interesting,” said Amy.

“Because that’s where his class was,” I said.

“Oh, Del, must I explain everything to you?” said Heather. “My goodness, you are dense sometimes.” She shook her head, her history book in her hand, mid-shelve. “That means he had already passed his classroom. So the only reason he was still walking down the hall was to follow you.”

“What if he was going to the water fountain?” I asked.

Heather shuddered. “Only losers drink from the water fountain, Del. I thought everyone knew that.”

Amy nodded.

This was news to me. “Is there an exhibit C?” I asked.

She shelved her history book and turned to me. “Yes,” she said seriously. “The most interesting one of all. You only give someone a flat tire if you are following behind them too closely.” She cleared her throat. “Therefore, I must conclude that he was trying to listen to what we were saying!”

I shook my head. This was all too complicated for me.

Heather slammed her locker shut. “I know what I’m talking about, Del,” she said. “Your crush boy likes you back.”

Amy took off her glasses and polished them on her shirt. “I wasn’t there,” she said, holding them up to check for smudges, “but I’m convinced he likes you. If anyone knows crushes, it’s Heather.”

I didn’t even try to argue. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Girls, I’m home!” Mom shouted when she walked in the door that night. “You’re never going to believe what happened at the store today!”

Buster began to bark like a maniac. I put my mechanical pencil down on the kitchen table and stood up. I was looking for any excuse to take a break from my boring science homework. I strolled into the living room and joined my sisters, who’d been watching TV. Dad was working in his study.

“Olivia changed her color scheme again?” I guessed.

“Olivia wants me to be her flower girl!” crowed Poppy.

“Customers were asking why your beautiful daughter Rose wasn’t there to greet them?” suggested Rose.

Mom turned to Aster. My sister shrugged. Mom grinned at her.

“No — we sold Aster’s bouquet!”

Aster looked really surprised. But not as surprised as I felt.

Mom scratched Buster behind the ears as she explained. “A goth girl came in to send an arrangement to her aunt in the hospital. I did a very cheerful snapdragon and freesia piece — really sweet. While she was waiting, she saw the
dead-roses-and-spider arrangement on the counter and fell in love with it for herself. She wants four more for her friends!”

“Wow,” said Aster. She looked pleased — well, as pleased as Aster can look.

I opened my mouth, about to say something.
Florists sell live flowers! Not dead ones!
But Mom was giving me the hairy eyeball. She shook her head and the look was definitely
Del, keep your mouth shut.

So I did. But I wasn’t very happy about it. Earlier that day, after the public-speaking torment in English class, we had learned a new vocabulary word. The word was
disgruntled.
And it was exactly the way I was feeling about this whole flower shop situation.

Mom must have sensed this, because after I was already in bed that night, she came to my room and quietly stood in my doorway.

“Now, I don’t want any arguments,” she began softly. “But I’m going to need all hands on deck at the store this Saturday. It’s the day before Mother’s Day and there will be lots of orders and walk-in customers. Plus, next Saturday is Olivia’s wedding. And the night before that is opening
night of Rose’s play. So we’re going to have to finish everything early to make it there on time.”