Flower Feud (9 page)

It was Friday, the day before both proms. Everyone at school was buzzing with excitement. I wondered if it was the same at the high school. Doubtful. They were probably too cool for that.

Heather couldn’t stop talking about how much fun she was going to have hanging out with Billy Walters and his friends on the soccer team. Jessica was happy to be going with Jackson. And Amy had given up on being asked by Brian, couldn’t get up the nerve to ask him herself, and was coming to terms with going stag with Becky and me.

Becky had been surprisingly quiet on the subject. I assumed she was excited to wear her new outfit and have some fun with Amy and me.

I was so happy about the flower orders that I was even looking forward to the prom. Just as long as I avoided seeing Hamilton and Ashley slow dancing together!

I hadn’t seen too much of Ashley the past week. I had been expecting her to gloat about going to the dance with Hamilton. But she hadn’t said anything about it at all.
Something is very fishy,
I thought.

Luckily, Mom had gotten me out of gym class again to help out with the hundreds of corsages we needed to make that night. So I didn’t have to see Ashley or Hamilton that afternoon. I would see enough of them all tomorrow, that was for sure.

My entire family assembled in the store that afternoon and everyone had a great time gluing and designing and arranging. We also mapped out a plan for the next day: We’d get to the store bright and early to do the finishing touches. The only fly in the ointment was that Poppy had a birthday party that afternoon, so Dad would have to leave early to take her. But we’d be fine without them for a couple of hours. Afterward, he and Poppy would come back to the store, so Rose, Aster, and I could go home to get ready for our respective parties, and Mom wouldn’t have to be alone.

We closed up and walked home together, joking and laughing. Just as we stepped in the front door of my house, my cell phone rang. It was Amy.

“Hey, Amy,” I said. “What’s up —”

“Del, I don’t know how to tell you this,” she said. “I was at the mall tonight getting new shoes for the dance and I saw something … weird.”

“Weird?” I echoed.

“Very weird,” she replied. “I’m just going to come out and say it.” She took a deep breath. “IsawBeckywalkingoutofFleurwithacorsageboxinherhand,” she said all in a rush.

“What?” I said. My blood went cold.

“I saw Becky walking out of Fleur with a corsage box in her hand,” Amy repeated, more slowly this time.

“That can’t be,” I finally answered. “Becky said she didn’t want a corsage. Plus, she’d never go to Fleur. She’s my best friend.” I shook my head. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone else? Someone who looks like her?” I suggested hopefully.

“So someone who looks just like Becky borrowed her purple Converse high-tops, and turned around when I called her name, and then took off?” Amy asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my heart sinking. There was no denying it. My very best friend had betrayed me. But … why? Did she like their flowers better? Was she mad at me for some reason? Getting even with me for something I didn’t realize I had done? It just didn’t make sense. I thought for a
moment. She
had
been acting weird lately — not answering her phone, being quieter that usual. What was going on?

“I’m sorry, Del,” said Amy. “I’m just telling you what I saw.” Then her voice brightened. “Hey, my new shoes are so gorgeous,” she said. “Wait till you see them. You want to go over to the dance together tomorrow? You could pick me up on your way.”

“Sure,” I said distractedly. “See you tomorrow.”

I hung up, frozen in disbelief.
Why
had Becky gone to Fleur? Especially without telling me? I tried to remember if there was anything I had done to make her turn on me like this. Nothing made sense.

But I did know one thing — her actions were completely inexcusable.

I flipped open my phone and pressed her number. But it rang and rang with no answer.

“Becky, it’s Del,” I said when her voice mail picked up. “I heard something weird from Amy. Will you please call me back? I think we need to talk.”

I hung up, and waited a whole five minutes, while all around me my family settled in and Dad called Jade Mountain to order Chinese food. When no text or call
from Becky came through, I called her again. I could feel myself starting to get flushed with growing anger. Once again, I got her voice mail. Was she
avoiding me?

“Becky, it’s Del again,” I said. I paused. “Um … so Amy told me you got a corsage at Fleur. I just don’t understand why you’d betray me like that. You told me you didn’t even want a corsage!” My voice began to get louder. “I thought you were my best friend. But I don’t think best friends act this way. I thought we didn’t keep secrets from —”

“BEEP!
If you are finished leaving your message, press one. If you would like to rerecord your message, press two,” droned the chipper voice on Becky’s phone.

I couldn’t believe it! Becky’s voice mail had cut me off! Angrily, I pressed one and slapped my phone shut. I fumed all through dinner with my family, and didn’t even enjoy the moo goo gai pan. As I got ready for bed, I kept checking my phone, certain Becky would call me back to explain or apologize. But there was no word from her.

The next morning was crazy busy, which was good — I had less time to dwell on the Becky situation. (She
still
hadn’t called me back.) Mom realized we had forgotten to make a
dozen boutonnieres, so as soon as we got to the store, we had to rush around to finish them before the middle and high school kids started coming in. I also checked all the corsages to see if they needed any last-minute fixes. When I wasn’t hot-glue-gunning errant sequins, I was trying to locate extra corsage boxes, and then lining up the corsages by order number so they’d be easy to locate.

The high school kids came in on their own and seemed pretty cool about everything. Most of the middle school kids came in with their moms and looked a little nervous. It was the first formal dance any of us had ever been to, so I guess it made sense. I smiled and waved to all the kids I knew from my school. Carmine proudly showed me the bluebell wrist corsage he’d picked out. “Look at this, Del,” he said. “Penelope told me these are her favorite flowers. She’s going to love it!”

“Great, Carmine,” I said. And I was happy for him. But I was going through the motions with a heavy heart. I was angry at Becky. That, coupled with the anticipation of having to watch master spy Hamilton and snooty Princess Ashley dance together, was almost too much to think about.

I noticed Mom doing some last-minute tinkering with a snap-on corsage that was so lovely it took my breath away.
Pink and purple hydrangea florets and stephanotises surrounded by delicately gathered tulle, and set on a thick pink ribbon for tying around the wrist. In the middle, perched as if it were in mid-nectar sip, sat a tiny gossamer butterfly. I had never seen anything quite so adorable in my life.

I gave Mom a curious look. She grinned. “I kind of went all out on this one,” she said. “I couldn’t resist. This is the one for that boy I told you about. The one who is going with the smartest and prettiest girl in your middle school?” She smiled. “I mean the smartest and prettiest girl after
you,
of course!” she added.

“Oh, Mom,” I said, shaking my head. What a goof-ball. I took a closer look at the delicate corsage. “You really outdid yourself,” I said.

Mom seemed touched by my compliment. “Thanks, Del,” she replied.

“Where is he?” I wondered. “I’m really curious about who this mystery boy is!”

Rose was behind the counter, fidgeting and checking the time on the wall clock. She was raring to start getting ready for the slumber party. I, on the other hand, was perfectly happy to postpone going to the prom indefinitely. But we had to wait
for Dad and Poppy to get there. We were keeping the store open an hour late for any last-minute pickups and we all agreed that Mom shouldn’t have to handle a rush all by herself.

Rose turned to Aster. “Which pajamas are you planning to wear tonight?” she wanted to know.

Aster shrugged. “My usual,” she said.

Rose blanched. “Not that old Smiths T-shirt and the saggy long johns!” she cried in disbelief. Rose took her sleepwear seriously — pink, cute, and always matching.

Aster bit her lip. I guessed that was exactly what she had planned on wearing.

“I wonder what’s keeping your father?” Mom said worriedly. “It’s time for you girls to go home and get ready.” She smiled. “And I really want you to come by the store so I can take your picture, Del! I can’t wait to see you all dressed up for your very first formal dance!”

I looked around, slightly mortified. Luckily, the store was empty. Mom was making such a big deal out of this. But I couldn’t argue, since I was picking up Amy and our store is on the way to her house.

“I’ll be here,” I told Mom.

Just then the phone rang, and Mom answered. “Petal
Pushers,” she said. She listened for a moment. “Oh my poor baby. That’s terrible. Oh, give her a big kiss for me. You stay there and take care of her. I’ll figure something out….” She hung up and looked at the three of us, her mouth set in a grim line.

“That was Daddy,” she explained. “Girls, I have bad news. Poppy ate way too much candy at the birthday party. She has a terrible stomachache and Dad’s afraid she’s going to throw up!” She grimaced. “So he can’t come in to help me with the last pickups tonight.” She gave us a pleading look. “I hate to ask this, but could one of you stay here for a while?”

Fine with me!

“Sure!” I said to Mom. “No problem.”

At the exact the same time, Aster practically jumped in the air and said, “I can do it!”

Rose stared at Aster, her mouth open. “This is the most important party of the school year,” she said. “You
have
to go, Aster.”

I gaped at Rose. I couldn’t believe it — she was making the ultimate sacrifice. What a sister!

“So let Del stay,” she concluded.

I snorted. I should have known.

“Actually, Mom, I don’t mind staying at all,” I spoke up. “I’ll just call Amy and tell her I’ll meet her at the dance later.”

Aster leaned over and grabbed my arm. “No, Del,” she said firmly. “I insist.”

Rose shook her head emphatically. “No, Aster, if you’re late you’ll miss the makeovers! It’s the best part!”

The word
makeovers
seemed to seal the deal for Aster. She took a deep breath and turned to her twin. “Rosie, I love you and I love that you want me to go to this party with you. But frankly, I would rather lick the bottom of the flower cooler than go to a girly-girl slumber party.”

I stared at Aster. That was a lot of words in a row for her.

Rose’s face fell. “But … I don’t get it. You seemed so excited!”

Aster put an arm around her twin. “I was trying to be excited because
you
were so excited,” she said.

“But it’s the best party of the year,” Rose said weakly.

“For you,” said Aster. “I hate parties, Rose. You’re going to have a great time. And you’re going to have an even better time if you don’t have to worry about me.”

Mom dabbed her eyes with the day’s bandanna, which happened to be purple. “My girls,” she said. “You were
both trying to make each other happy. That’s really sweet.” She blew her nose.

I grinned at Aster. “I thought you were going crazy! You agreed to do manicures and pedicures! You were going to wear a rhinestone T-shirt!”

Aster grinned back. “She’s my twin,” she said simply.

Rose smiled at Aster. “Thanks, sis,” she said.

Mom ushered me and Rose out the door. “Hurry back!” she said.

And Aster waved to us merrily, a big grin on her face.

I brushed my hair until it was shining, parted it on the side, and pulled it back with a rhinestone barrette. My dress was pale blue with a matching bolero jacket and was actually supercute. I thought about Becky’s pink dress that we’d bought together and my throat tightened. She still hadn’t called me back. It was the longest we’d ever gone without speaking.

Pushing Becky out of my thoughts, I put on my white flats that were trimmed with blue rosettes. I swiped on some lip gloss of Mom’s, then made a face at myself and swiped it right back off. Too sticky.

Rose met me at the bottom of the steps, in the pink
rhinestone T-shirt and a pair of capri jeans. Her Hello Kitty overnight bag was slung over her shoulder. What I wouldn’t have given to see Aster in the very same outfit!

“Have a great time, girls,” Dad said, giving us hugs. “And Del, as W. H. Auden once wrote, ‘Dance till the stars come down from the rafters; Dance, dance, till you drop.’”

“Um … sure, Dad,” I said.

He went back to tend to Poppy. He had set up the sick couch for her, which meant he had covered the couch with a sheet, added pillows and a soft, light green blanket, and placed the bathroom garbage can within easy reach. Poppy was watching
The Little Mermaid,
a glass of ginger ale on the coffee table in front of her.

“Bye, Poppy,” Rose and I called. “Feel better!”

She stuck out her lower lip. “I’ll never eat three Milky Ways in a row again!” she groaned.

“Followed by a pound of Twizzlers,” said Dad, shaking his head.

Just thinking about all that sugar gave me a stomachache. Or maybe it was the thought of what was waiting for me at A Night in the Tropics. I wasn’t quite sure.

When we got to the store, a high school boy in his tux was just paying for his date’s corsage. “Looks great,” he called to Mom before he ran out the door. “Thanks!”

Mom clasped her hands together. “Oh, look at you both!” she squealed at me and Rose. “Let me take your picture!” She rushed off for her camera, then remembered my corsage. She disappeared into the cooler, and returned holding a box.

I opened the box. “Oh, Mom!” I breathed. It was a snap-on wrist corsage, the band covered in tiny, pale blue seed pearls. In the center was a cluster of creamy white roses and a sprig of Bells of Ireland, an elegant flower. The thinnest pale blue ribbons were looped between the blooms. It was stunning in its simplicity. And it would look amazing with my light blue dress.