Once and for All(38)

“I’m not your boss,” I grumbled, starting toward the buffet line. When I looked back, he was shaking his head, smiling, as the girl in pink tried to lead him farther into the shifting crowd. When he backed away, she made a sad face, then mimed wiping a tear. Jesus.

Just recalling this was making me even crankier, so I got to my feet, collecting the vase from the table where I’d been sitting, then the one next to it. I was all set to snap at Ambrose as he finally did come over, but then I saw he was carrying three others, one in each hand and another pressed to his chest. “Where should I pour these out?” he asked.

“Just put them in the crate for now and we’ll do it outside,” I said. I always hated a wedding when we had to collect equipment after the fact, preferring the ones my mom called Zero Footprint, where we just left it all for the venue to deal with. As I picked up another vase, I saw Julie crossing the room, shoes now on, the bouquet dangling down beside her. “What was she saying to you?”

“Who?” I nodded at her. “Jules? Nothing much. Just wondering where an out of towner could grab a martini at this late hour. I told her I knew just the place.”

“You’re going out with her tonight?”

“It’s just a drink. And a ride for me and Ira, which is a good thing. Our dogs are tired.”

Ha-ha, I thought as I walked over to the wooden rack we’d stored under the cake table and slid the vases into them. The flowers, white roses mixed with those peonies I’d caved on, had held up well, still perky as they bobbed in their water.

“So what happens to these now?” Ambrose asked, as he added his vases to the rack.

“The flowers?” I asked. “Usually we toss them.”

“Really? Seems wasteful.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But after picking them up, arranging them, putting them out on tables, and then collecting them back up, I feel like our relationship has run its full course.”

I could feel him watching me as I slid another vase in, a few petals falling off one rose as I did so. “Do you look at everything in terms of coupling and uncoupling?”

I shrugged, getting to my feet again. “Unavoidable effect of the business, I guess. Grab those across the room, will you? I’ll get this side.”

“You got it, boss.” This time, I didn’t have the energy to correct him.

“I need to hit the bathroom, so I’ll take final sweep,” William called out as he and my mom, ritual completed, got up from their chairs. “What’s left besides that and vases?”

“Cake top from the fridge,” my mom told him. “Charlotte’s mom is supposed to come by the office for it first thing Monday.”

“And then we’re done,” he replied, holding up a hand. She slapped him five—the champagne was showing—and they headed in their separate directions as Ambrose and I finished filling the rack and carried it outside to the van. There, in the glare of a parking lot light, we dumped the water out of the vases one by one, putting the flowers on the curb beside. By the time we were done, all I could smell were roses.

“So long, fellas,” Ambrose told the blooms, a solemn look on his face. “It’s not you, it’s us.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything, instead focusing on getting the rack secured for the trip back to the office. By the time William and my mom came out, I’d slipped my feet out of the backs of my own shoes, feeling ever closer to the night’s end and my own barefoot drive home.

“Good job, team,” my mom said as she pulled her keys out of her purse. “Kudos to Ambrose and Louna in particular for finding a wayward child.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, giving her a salute. “It was the least I could do for the company.”

William laughed. “I like this kid. So dedicated!”

The child wouldn’t have been lost if it wasn’t for his dog, I wanted to say. I didn’t.

“Monday,” my mom continued, “we turn our full attention to the Elinor Lin Wedding. It’s a double hander, with a very detail-oriented bride. So rest up.”

With that, William climbed into the van, taking off his suit jacket, while my mom headed to her car. I reached back, taking down the bun I always wore when working, then ran a hand through my hair as I dug for my own keys. When I looked up, Ambrose was getting to his feet, a bunch of the discarded blooms in his arms. He’d wrapped them with a crumpled program, fashioning a huge, trailing bouquet, which he held out to me.

“Oh,” I said, suddenly feeling bad about how short I’d been with him all night. Not that it was exactly proper to give a co-worker flowers, but still, a nice gesture. “You shouldn’t—”

“No?” He looked down at them. “You said you were throwing them out, so I thought it was okay if I took them.”

I heard footsteps, and then Julie stepped out from behind the next row of cars. “Ambrose? You ready to go get that drink?”

He was still looking at me. “Of course,” I told him. “It’s fine.”

“See you Monday, Louna,” he said, then started over to her, holding the flowers out in greeting. Taking them, she ducked her head down to breathe in the scent, and I thought of her waiting for the bride to throw the bouquet earlier, how she’d gone into a crouch, eyes sharp, determined to be the lucky one. It was so calculated, so different from this, unexpected in that way only weddings could be.