Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Wild Love. Hope to Cope. Then several more covering various issues—codependency, reclaiming your inner child, using color for therapy—before, on the very end, Your Day, Your Way.
Some people might have hidden all these books out of sight, worried about conveying a sign of weakness, or just that they were trying.
But Anne chose instead to showcase them.
As if the efforts deserved just as much attention, equal weight, to the results in the pictures above.
“Okay,” she said, coming out of the bedroom. For all the lead-up, she carried only a small oversized shoulder bag, plump with what could only be maybe one or two changes of clothes. “Let’s go.”
As she went over to the door, pulling it open, I looked again around the room.
I supposed I’d also expected this part to be like the trip to Lana’s, that same sense of narrowing if not outright finality.
Close to the end, though not there quite yet.
But this place felt just as it had when we’d arrived. Like all we’d taken was time.
“Anne.” Kasey shook some blooms in her direction. “Here.”
It was later that afternoon, and we were at Kasey’s cabin, again trying to distract Anne.
She’d been so morose after returning from her and Jonathan’s place that Lana and I had immediately started to brainstorm ways to keep her busy.
A shopping trip to Bly Corners? (Maybe a bookstore?
If there were books on planning weddings, surely there were ones on calling them off.) Lana suggested we go to Blackwood Station and let her take out her grief on the bumper cars or basketball shoot.
Instead, Anne had spotted Kasey moving buckets of flowers from the truck into her place.
When she’d drifted sadly that way, we’d had no choice but to follow.
My aunt, ever practical, had put us to work. We sat in a row on the couch, assembly line–style, putting bouquets together for another floral gig, this time a dinner that night at the Tides.
Now Anne took the flowers from Kasey, distractedly adding them to the ones in her own hand. Then she just sat there. Lana and I exchanged a look: This had been the issue with our system from the start. I had to literally pull them from her, just to move things along.
“What are these ones, again?” I asked, nodding at the red blooms as I bound them with white-topped stalks.
“Scarlett burst,” Kasey replied. Then she pointed at the others, one by one. “Moonakis. And Bellflower.”
At this, Anne, who’d been staring off into space, suddenly snapped to attention. “Wait. What did you say?”
Kasey looked at her. “Bellflower?”
“Moonakis.” Anne peered at the last bucket, which was full of tight, bright pink buds. “That’s what those are?”
“Pretty, right?” Kasey nodded. “Wait until they open up.”
“I thought you never knew,” Anne said. She reached out, touching one. “When they bloomed.”
“You don’t.” Kasey wrapped some thin wire around a completed bouquet. “But when it happens, it’s worth the wait.”
Hearing this, Anne sniffled, then pushed herself, shakily, to her feet and into the bathroom. Lana sneezed again. “I love her,” she said quietly. “But so much crying.”
A breeze blew over the house then, whistling through the screen door. Outside, the wind chimes began spinning and clanking. Then I heard something else.
“Anne?” It was coming from the direction of the Woods. “Anne?”
Kasey put down the roll of wire. “What the hell?”
“Anne!”
Lana got up, walking over to the door. “Oh my God,” she said. She turned, a hand over her mouth, then said through it, “It’s Jonathan.”
“What?” Kasey said. “I can’t understand you.”
She dropped her hand. “Jonathan,” she hissed. “He’s—”
“Anne!” The voice was getting closer. “Lana! Is she in there?”
Lana looked at us. “He’s almost here. What should I do?”
Kasey was back wrapping up flowers. “Open the door, I guess.”
She did. A moment later, there was the sound of feet hitting the steps, rapid, and then Jonathan appeared.
Although honestly, I barely recognized him.
Every other time we’d crossed paths, he looked like the handsome fraternity boy he was, everything effortless and in place.
As he stepped into sight now, though, his eyes were red, hair was sticking up sideways.
The blue oxford tee he wore had a visible stain.
He quickly scanned the room, then looked at us. “Please. Tell me where she is. I know she was at our place today.”
“I think she just needs—” Lana began.
“She took the tickets!” he wailed.
We all just looked at him. Then Kasey said, “The what?”
“The tickets.” He pulled a hand through his hair: Now it was all on end, giving him a mad-scientist look. “We keep them tucked in the mirror in the bedroom. The one she gave me, the night we met. And the one I proposed with. They’re gone.”
Nobody knew what to say to this. Luckily, he continued.
“I don’t care about the wedding, my mother. The planner and stupid bridesmaids’ dresses.” Frantic, he scanned our faces. “I don’t care what comes next. I just want us to do it together.”
“Hey,” Kasey said to him. “Take a breath. You’re going to pass out.”
“Ticket for ticket,” he went on, his eyes moving again around the room before landing on me. Pleading, like I could fix this. “It’s what we always say. Once that’s done, you’re—”
There was a soft click. The bathroom door opened and Anne came out, another wad of tissue balled up in one hand. “All in,” she said softly.
The rest of us were totally still. Even Kasey had stopped winding wire.
And then, motion. Anne moving toward him, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her arms around his neck. Him fumbling to kiss her lips, then forehead, then lips again before I finally got embarrassed and looked away.
Over at Kasey, actually, who was picking up another moonakis flower. I watched as she turned the stalk in her hand, thinking of the scrubby, unimpressive plant they’d come from and how she’d called them a mystery. Like this summer, or life in general, the only guarantee was that you’d be surprised.
Two hours later, we were all at the Woods on the porch. Jonathan and Anne sat at the end of the table, holding hands.
“Okay, everyone’s here now,” Liz said. “Go ahead.”
A beat. Anne glanced at Jonathan. “Well…,” she said slowly, “we’ve decided the wedding is back on.”
“Oh my goodness!” Liz exclaimed. “What wonderful news!”
“Congratulations,” Kasey said to Jonathan, who smiled. I thought of the way he’d looked earlier, so desperate as he peered in the cabin, searching for her. Thank God they’d ended up together. Otherwise I wasn’t sure I’d ever believe in love again.
“Are you sure about this?” Lana asked Anne. “You were pretty upset.”
“I was.” She looked at Jonathan, who nodded. “But we’re united now. When we talk to Kathy, we’re going to be very clear if this wedding happens, we’re doing it our way.”
Liz, who was madly texting with, I assumed, Travis, looked up. “Your way?”
“Here,” Anne replied, moving a hand around her. “With my dress and flowers from Kasey’s garden. The way I—”
“We,” Jonathan chimed in, eyes still on her.
“—want it,” she finished.
Liz looked dumbstruck. “But… the wedding is this Saturday.”
“Yes,” Jonathan said. “We know.”
“That’s two days away,” my mom, ever the realist, pointed out.
Anne nodded. “Exactly.”
Silence. Finally, Kasey said, “Well, count me in for the flowers. It would be an honor.”
Anne brightened. “Really?”
“Of course.” Kasey looked at Liz. “Doing it here, though…”
“How?” her sister replied. “I mean, what would that even look like?”
Anne stood, moving over to the dollhouse.
As she grabbed one side, right under the eaves, Jonathan took the other end.
Then, together, they began to turn it, outside becoming inside.
There was the living room. Those rows of chairs, an aisle.
Like before, all that was missing was the people. And now we were here.
“Yes, hello. I need to rent some items for a party?”
It had been only about an hour since Anne and Jonathan’s announcement. Liz had wasted no time getting to work.
“This coming Saturday,” she was saying now. “A wedding, my daughter’s. How many? Well, there are a hundred guests, so… oh. Right. Well, is there—hello?”
That was the third place she’d called that was a no. Just listening, I was getting discouraged. But she only sighed, consulted the legal pad she was scribbling on, and began to dial again.
“Hi, I’m looking for some chairs and tables for this weekend.” She paused. “Yes. This weekend.”
Just then my phone chirped. BFF, said the screen. That was Lana. While I’d put in her number and made it one of my favorites as directed, she’d added this detail herself. I went out onto the porch to answer.
“Is Ben there?” she asked me, skipping a hello. She’d gone to the Egg to grab our paychecks. “Anne’s looking for him. Something about playing at the wedding.”
“Don’t they have a band booked already?” I asked. I was pretty sure I remembered hearing about one, with a name even more unfortunate than Sudden Constellation.
“Gary and the Shenanigans,” she replied. That was it. “For the reception. I think this is for the ceremony. Anyway, if you see him, will you let him know? Clark’s dragging me to Bly Supply.”
“It’s your turn,” I heard him say in the background. “I am helping you.”
As we hung up, my phone beeped with a text. Colin.
Remember that field trip we had to take to the aquarium at the coast junior year? On that smelly bus? I spent the entire trip doing stuff for my early admissions and juggling the StuCo Fall Fling. I realized the other day I didn’t even remember any fish. Not one.
Below was a picture. Of a huge tank, thick with marine life. He was there?
I didn’t show up at camp today. It was the day of the big lake hike and everything. When they couldn’t find me, they called my parents, like I was eight again. My dad said he’s disappointed in me. I don’t think he’s ever said that before.
Beep.