Somebody to Love(45)
With Beauty practically attached to her leg, Parker looked into the case, where there was a small variety of flowers: carnations, roses, lilies, baby’s breath. “Over here,” Vin continued, “we’ve got the containers, vases, angels, a few boxes of chocolate. I wouldn’t eat those if I were you—can’t tell how old they are—but if someone wants them, buyer beware, right?” Lavinia coughed and lit up another cigarette.
“Think the smoke is bad for the flowers?” Parker asked, waving her hand.
“Probably. At any rate, cards are over here. Rolls of tissue paper, cellophane, all the tools you might need, and be careful with those scissors, ’cause those’ll cut you faster than a cat can lick its ass.”
The kitty cat licked its cute little bum. Oh, those worms were so itchy! “If only someone would adopt me, I could get these pesky intestinal parasites taken care of!” Another winner.
“You listening to me?” Lavinia pointed to a heavy oak door with a large pane of frosted glass. “This here’s the greenhouse. Don’t go in there, got it? It’s temperature controlled. That’s why there’s the lock on the door.”
“What do you grow back there?” Parker asked. She could see a blur of green, a few splotches of pink. Beauty was sufficiently interested to sniff at the door.
“Rare orchids, shit like that. Wicked particular about hot and cold. Okay? I’m the only one what takes care of those.”
“Got it.” Parker turned back to the older woman. “Lavinia, I really appreciate you letting me work here.”
“Oh, hell. That’s what family’s for.” She smiled, her face crackling into an array of wrinkles that Parker found quite attractive. Althea, who was roughly the same age as Vin, didn’t sport any wrinkles, having had her face paralyzed by Botox far too many times to count.
“So you and my mom played together as kids?” Parker asked.
“Ayuh. Back when we were really little. Couple, three times is all. Then we moved to town, over by the fisheries plant.”
Lavinia was quiet for a moment, and Parker wondered what her silence meant. Once, Lavinia had lived in a mansion; now, she chain-smoked and wore stirrup pants.
“Vin, why do you think Julia left the house to me? Instead of you or my mom? You were her nieces. I’m just a grand-niece.”
“Ah, Julia was always mad at someone or another,” Vin answered, lighting another cigarette. “She was furious when my brother sold the Pines, even though he gave her that little cottage. Pissed that he got himself into financial trouble and whatnot. As for your mother, Julia didn’t approve of divorce, so I guess that’s why she picked you. Not many of us to choose from.”
“And you never got married? No kids?”
“Nope. Always wanted a kid. Never a husband, though. I’m too fickle. You, too, from the look of it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“What are you? Forty?”
Parker winced. “No. Thirty-five.”
“Nothing wrong with being fickle when it comes to men. Keep those options open, I always say. Anyway, most of our orders are pretty basic. Got your bible right there.” She picked up a huge and faded book and swiped it against her butt, a shower of gray flakes falling to the floor. Between the dust and the smoke, Parker could practically feel her lungs shriveling. “Oftentimes, we don’t have the right stuff in stock, but we do our best. Folks understand. Well, hello there, Maggie.”
Beauty crouched behind Parker’s legs as Maggie came in. “Hi, Lavinia! Hi, Parker!” she said. “How are you? Oh, you have a dog! Hi, puppy! Can I pet her?”
Ah, love. The woman’s happiness was palpable, and heck, it was awfully romantic, the way her guy had popped the question in front of everyone.
“She’s pretty shy,” Parker said, but Maggie knelt down, and to Parker’s amazement, Beauty’s tail wiggled a little bit.
“Shy is fine,” Maggie said. “Nothing wrong with shy.” Beauty sniffed Maggie’s hand, then offered a lick.
“She likes you,” Parker said.
“I’m a dog person. You should bring her over sometime. She can play with Peaches. That’s my dog. Malone gave her to me.” At the name of her honey, Maggie blushed. “And speaking of Malone, I’m here to talk about the wedding. It’s a quicky job. Not in that sense of the word—I’m not pregnant, at least not to my knowledge. It’s just, you know, Malone, he’d rather get it done, plus his daughter’s only here for a month… Crikey, listen to me.” She smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, we’re getting married a week from Saturday. Sorry it’s such short notice.”
“Well, it’s not like people are lined up around the block. And for you, Maggie, no problem, sweetheart.” Lavinia’s face melted again into wrinkles as she flashed some browning teeth. “What kind of bouquet were you thinking?”
“Oh, heck, I don’t care. Whatever you think is pretty. My dad said he’ll pay for the wedding, but I don’t want to drain him dry, either. Hydrangeas are in season, right? Those are nice. Whatever’s easy.”
“What’s your budget?” Vin asked.
“Three hundred dollars sound okay?” Parker tried not to wince. Three hundred was nothing.