Lavender Haze

Chapter 10

"So, what did you guys do?"

Dan is sick, so I'm helping Rafael with the delivery he received this morning before I meet Renee for lunch. I'm no expert when it comes to handling thorny flowers, so the tips of my fingers are already covered in plasters.

I've just scratched the knuckle of my left pinkie when I tell Rafael, "We talked. What do you think we did?" I'm catching him up on yesterday's events, as in the blackout, the half-kidnapping and all that jazz. After the power returned, River's house, his clothes on me, felt suffocating. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. But we reasoned that we should wait a little longer before he insisted on calling his driver to make sure I made it home safe. So we pretended to be highly interested in the wedding invitations samples and after he picked one – the one I suggested he should pick – I sat in front of my laptop and fake-replied to imaginary emails until his driver, Freddie, rang River's doorbell.

"People do all sorts of shit in the dark," Rafael mutters, handing me a potted orchid.

"People with nothing to lose, like, let's say, their job or their livelihood or their self-respect."

Rafael goes on a talking hiatus, shoving pot after pot of colourful orchids my way, and I place them on temporary shelves in the back of the shop. "Did you talk about Cassie's wedding?"

I snort. "What self-destructive vertebrae in my body would have made me bring up Cassie's wedding?"

"The same one that made you get bangs in eleventh grade?" He shrugs.

"You made me get bangs in eleventh grade!" I snap, but kinda smiling, because it's in Rafael's and my nature to needlessly tease each other. "You said I could pull it off."

"No, no, no, no. What I said was, 'You could pull it off if you gained a couple of pounds'. What you heard was, 'I'm cute and skinny and I can butcher my hair and still look like a goddamn Hollywood star.'"

I scoff at his words, even though that's probably what happened. When my ego is involved, I often lose sight of the truth. "Whatever," I mutter. "The point is, no, we didn't talk about Cassie's wedding, because as far as it concerns River, there's nothing to say about it."

"So what, then? What did you talk about for an hour?"

I flail my hands and knock to the floor Rafael's sheers. "Wedding stuff."

"I'm gonna let you lie to me because we're on a time crunch," my best friend says, "But this is not over."

Renee is one of my favourite clients of all times. She is in her fifties and this is her second marriage. She has four kids, two jobs and is finally getting a second chance at love, or so she told me the first time we met. Her oldest daughter, Chelsea, who also happens to be Renee's maid of honour, joins us for lunch when we meet in The Village. We discuss the final details of the ceremony as we share a charcuterie board and a bottle of pink lemonade.

"I cannot believe the day is almost here. Just over a week!" Renee squeals excitedly.

"You did such a fantastic job," Chelsea chimes in. She is a couple years younger than me and had a lot of input into choosing the direction this wedding was going to take. Which was a great help, because it turns out, Renee is chronically indecisive. If it were up to her, we'd still be picking canapés for the reception.

"Thank you. I'm just glad we're at the finish line and everything is what you pictured."

"Even better," Renee says, and her eyes water. She fans herself as Chelsea fusses over her mother. This is so special to me, and it reminds me why I love my job so much. Why I do this. To bring people's dreams, their fairy tales, to life. I've yet to see this level of emotion coming from either River or Mila. The closer we get to the wedding, the less unaffected they seem to get.

I take a deep breath and will my own sympathy tears to dry. "Okay. Just remember. I'm going to be at your place at eight on Friday. Makeup and hair at eight twenty." I grab my phone and open my notes. "Coffee and a bagel for breakfast?"

"I don't think I'll be able to eat," Renee says.

"But you have to. We can't risk your sugar levels dropping. Trust me, a poppy seed bagel will do the trick."

"Whatever you say, Reid." Renee smiles softly, and it's the same smile my mother used to offer me whenever I was feeling insecure about something, the reassuring smile only weathered mothers can muster, and it nearly brings me to tears again.

"I've got you covered, Renee," I guarantee, my voice thick with emotions. "All your dreams are about to come true."