Young Jane Young(26)

That night, Schiele did indeed call me. “We got cut off there,” he said.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “Mrs. Morgan doesn’t understand that the universe won’t always bend to her will. Was there something else you needed?”

“The thing is, I like you,” he said.

“And I, you,” I said. “You’re the most exacting florist I know.”

“Come on, Jane. What I’m saying is I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “You must have noticed.”

“Well, you’re going to have to stop thinking of me,” I said. “I don’t date much, and I definitely don’t date married men.”

“I feel like you think I’m a scumbag,” he said. “You should know that the marriage has been over for some time. It’s been bad for some time.”

“It’s good that you know that. It takes real courage to recognize when you’re unhappy,” I said. “I’m glad you called, though. Franny wants to know if we can get a discount on the pots if we order them separately from the orchids.”

“I’ll price it out,” he said. “Can I give you a call back in a couple of days?”

“Why don’t you e-mail me?” I said. “Good-bye, Schiele.”

I really had liked him. Something I have learned, though, is that even a bad marriage isn’t to be trifled with.

My grandmother was married for fifty-two years, until my grandfather died. She used to say that a bad marriage was one that hadn’t had enough time to get good again. And not to put too fine a point on it, but since Schiele was a florist, I will tell you that there have been times when I thought my “pedestrian” orchid would never bloom again, when it looked dead as dead can be. I think of a time when Ruby and I went to San Francisco on vacation, and I left it on the radiator, and every last leaf fell off. I watered it for a year, and first a root, and then a leaf, and maybe two years later, voila! Flowers again. And that’s what I know about marriages and orchids. They’re both harder to kill than you think. And that’s why I love my grocery store orchid and I don’t do married men.





SIX





F

ranny and I were touring yet another hotel ballroom when she said, “They’re starting to blend together. I think I like this one better than the last one, but I’m not sure.”

“It’s more a feeling. What does it make you feel?” I was saying words, but I was barely paying attention. I was thinking of Ruby. I had gotten a call from Ruby’s school. She had locked herself in a girl’s bathroom stall and was refusing to come out. As soon as we were done here and I had dropped Franny off at her house, I was going down to the school to see who I needed to kill.

Franny’s gaze moved from the slightly dingy floral carpet to the mirrored walls. “I don’t know,” she said. “Nothing? Sad? What should it make me feel?”

“Well, you have to imagine it filled up,” I said. “Imagine it with the orchids and the Christmas lights and the tulle. Imagine your friends and family and…” What was the instinct in kids that when they encountered another kid who was different or weaker, they pounced on it? Was it some vestigial survival instinct from a time when resources were scarce?

“What?” she said.

“No, that was all,” I said.

Franny nodded. “I think I’d like to maybe see some other options, if that’s all right.”

“Honestly, we can keep looking, but unless you want to go in another direction entirely, like not a hotel ballroom at all, you’ve pretty much seen what this area has to offer in terms of ballrooms. They’re empty rooms, Franny.” I snuck a glance at the clock on my phone. I wanted to get to Ruby’s school before lunch started.

“Which one would you choose?”

“The first one we saw. The Lodge at Allison Springs.” I resisted saying, That’s why I showed it to you first. “If it’s still available.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Maybe this is silly but I thought when I walked into the reception room, I would feel like, ‘This is where the most romantic night of your life happens, Franny,’ and I didn’t feel that. The room gave me no feels. All that dark wood.”

“You wanted rustic,” I said.

“But it felt sort of, I don’t know, masculine.”

“It won’t once there are orchids and —”

She interrupted me. “Tulle, I know. Maybe we could drive down there right now so I could have one more look at it? I think I could commit to it today if I could just see it one more time.”

I took a deep breath. “I can’t,” I said. “Trust me. I want nothing more than to put this to bed, but I’ve got to get to Ruby’s school. She locked herself in the bathroom and she won’t come out. And if I don’t get her out before lunch starts, all the kids at her school will know about it, and maybe a small thing becomes a big thing, you know how kids are.” I laughed. “I’m sorry to burden you.”

“It’s no burden,” she said. “We can look at ballrooms some other day.”



“Why do you think she locked herself in the bathroom?” Franny asked when we were in the car.