Florence - (G.B.)/(B.A.)

Chapter 33

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Runaway Bride

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Just moments before the wedding reception was to take place; a union of man and wife. Florence and the rest of the girls sat with the bride of the evening in an empty room conversing about their thoughts on the wedding.

It seemed like only yesterday when Florence had first met Prissy, and now the elder girl was getting married. This moment made her feel a little melancholy on the inside, but she kept her sadness hidden behind a convincing smile. Tomorrow, the Andrews girl would board a ship bound for Toronto, where she and her husband would start a new life. She'd quickly forget about her memories in Avonlea and focus on making new ones with her beau.

Prissy and Florence hadn't gotten a chance to talk alone yet, but that was fine because they were at least seeing each other. Florence sat beside Anne in a chair, laughing at something she didn't notice because she was too engaged with her thoughts.

"Prissy," Anne spoke with no particular emotion, "I can only hope that one day eventually, this union between you and Mr Phillips will grow into one where you can both fulfil your heart's desires."

Florence's brows furrowed as the girls remained silent rather than agreeing with her. She took a look at the bride, who was seated on the bed, and observed how quiet and upset she had become. She shook her head at Anne as she returned her attention to her, and the girl immediately realized what she had said. Anne quickly corrected herself, "Oh, well, I-I only meant that even if your marriage isn't all romantical, you can still have the most marvellous life in Toronto and perhaps one day, you can go back to . . . school . . ."

Anne had no means of resolving what she had said, even if she had had the greatest of intentions. Instead, she followed the other girls out the door after a brief farewell and best wishes for the wedding. Instead of leaving as well, Florence decided to stay behind for a moment to approach the blonde girl, sitting across from her on the large bed.

She simply admired her friend, reaching out and taking her hands into her own. With a gentle squeeze, she commented, "Priscilla Andrews, you are looking like an absolute princess right now."

Prissy smiled gratefully, but it didn't reach her eyes. She seemed downtrodden and Florence wasn't sure why. Was she perhaps still thinking about what Anne had said?

"Is everything alright?" Florence decided to ask.

"Do you think Anne is telling the truth?" Prissy struggled to find words, and the brunette seemed speechless. She couldn't think of anything to say that would help the situation. "I'm talking about . . . about my education and the concept of love in general."

"I cannot answer nor make that decision for you," Florence admitted after a moment of contemplation. "Only you can decide that for yourself, Prissy. You need to take a look at your values in life, essentially what you'd like to achieve in the future, and make a decision based on that."

"Yes, but what if I don't know what I want out of life? And what if, by the time I figure it out, it's too late?"

"Don't worry, it won't be too late. You will know when the moment arrives. You can't know what's going to happen until it does. Prissy, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll always be there for you."

Prissy's eyes welled up with tears as she drew Florence in for a deep and meaningful embrace. She whispered something in the younger girl's ear that made her feel nearly at ease. "You are my kindred spirit, Flo. You really are."

"As you are mine," Florence said, finally breaking away from the hug. She brushed away some of her own unwanted tears before doing the same for her friend. "We can't have the bride's makeup tarnished just moments before the wedding, can we?"

Prissy chuckled genuinely. "No, I suppose not."

Florence rose from the bed and made her way over to the door. She smiled as she sent a fleeting glance in her friend's direction. She had finally accepted Prissy's decision. Sure, she'd miss the older girl who had quickly become her best friend in the short time they'd known each other, but she knew what Prissy needed and was more than willing to provide it to her. Her eyes welled up with more unwelcome tears at the mere thought. She opened the door and stepped out a second later, blinking them away.

***

When Florence reached the wedding venue, her eyes first caught the sight of Billy Andrews, who was dressed dapperly in a suit and tie, his hair nicely brushed back. He was inside the venue with his mother and father, who were quietly discussing something. She assumed that It wasn't an unhappy conversation, based on the expressions on their faces.

She sighed and averted her glance just as Billy had captured it. He snuck away from his parents and approached the brunette girl. Given the circumstances, he appeared less guilty and more laid back. He examined her entire appearance from head to toe. Her Grandmother had fashioned her a dark blue frock with puffed and laced sleeves especially for the occasion.

"Florence . . . I suppose you don't look terrible," Billy lied easily. He was well aware that she was gorgeous, but he refused to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Does it really kill you to compliment me?" she asked casually and he chuckled dryly. "I suppose that you don't look intolerable either."

"I'll take that as a good thing," he responded with a lopsided smile. He wanted to say more but was stopped by his father ushering him over. Sighing, he shrugged. "I should get going."

"I'll let you do that."

In the next second, he walked over to his father, leaving Florence alone with her thoughts. Billy and Florence didn't have a poor relationship but she wasn't sure if she'd forgiven him yet. This was probably the first time she'd had a real conversation with the Andrews boy in over three months. She wanted to forgive him and forget what he'd done in the past, but what he'd done had hurt her deeply . . . and she didn't know how to feel about it. Florence only spoke to him because a wedding was on the horizon, and she didn't want any unpleasant air between them during such a joyous moment. She reasoned, though, that she was pleased to have spoken to him after such a long time, almost as if she had missed his presence in her life.

As Anne raced over to her, she was interrupted from her absent-minded thoughts. As the ceremony was about to begin, the redhead hooked her arm through hers and ushered her inside the venue. This was it; the moment she had dreaded for so long but had finally come to terms with.

Florence chose to sit near the middle of the church with Anne and Diana because her grandparents were unable to attend. Looking around, her gaze fell on Mr Phillips, who stood there like a nervous wreck, waiting for his soon-to-be-wife. Her gaze then fell on Gilbert Blythe, who was quietly conversing with Moody, who sat beside him. He looked up and locked eyes with her as if on cue. She blushed at being caught staring, but even more so when he paid her a single wink, returning his attention to the boy beside him right after.

Everyone in the room rose to their feet to witness Prissy walk down the aisle. Despite the fact that Florence had seen Prissy earlier that hour, she agreed that she still looked stunning in her white bridal gown. Mr Phillips appeared to become even more nervous at the sight of her; she seemed to have that effect on him.

Once the blonde girl had reached the front of the chapel and stood across from Mr Phillips, everyone took their seats once again.

The young girl smiled adoringly at the man as he slowly raised her veil. He stayed deafeningly silent, his look was impassive. Prissy's smile faded as she acknowledged this. She peered across the crowd, finding her mother, and then to Florence with an apprehensive expression on her face.

"Prissy?" Mr Phillips called, reading and analyzing her feelings. She did not respond. He repeated himself but was left hanging when the girl slowly dropped the bouquet of flowers at his feet and fled the altar.