5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Lydia
L aura and Marty, my team at Blossoms in Bloom, are busy finalizing a celebrity wedding that we are designing in a few weeks. We’re going over orders and who’s doing what. My team is brilliant. I’m so thankful to have them working with me.
I’ve proudly built up my business from a humble florist store, selling floral arrangements, to a wedding planning and floral design service, that I love. We have bookings into next year, which is wonderful. Having staff in store means I’m free to organize, get out to see clients, and visit venues. I also work with Kate at The Half Moon Café who is my go-to wedding cake creator. We often coordinate design elements so that the chosen wedding themes follow through in a multi-level extravaganza.
The celebrities getting hitched soon are Rita Carmichael, ex-model, and Brodie Kent, ex-quarterback star for the Boston Bullets. They’re both locals who went away, got famous, then came back. Theirs is a love story worthy of the best romance writer. They are perfect together and, surprisingly, I had nothing to do with it. But I was thrilled and delighted when they came in one day, holding hands, and said that they’d love it if I designed the flowers for their wedding.
I had a brief consultation at the Carmicheal homestead. They have a date locked in for early Fall. We discussed themes and the general feel they wanted to create. They said they just wanted something lowkey and intimate in a marquee on the back paddock. The couple outlined a rough budget but, basically, left it up to me. What a dream job!
I’m so excited. I want everything to be perfect. Not that I want everything to be less than perfect for a non-celebrity wedding. But the publicity, even for a small lowkey event, will be wonderful exposure for Blossoms in Bloom.
The next step, after the initial consultation, was presenting Rita and Brodie with a mood board of colors, textures, and sketches for sculptural installations for the ceremony. They went for my ideas one hundred percent and loved the autumn themes of soft russets and reds; ochres and yellows; grasses and seedpods.
The hero element of the design is numerous fruit-bearing branches of the crabapple tree. It sounds unlikely but the humble crabapple, as decoration, is stunning. The colors of the tiny apples vary from deep red to golden yellow. They’re like natural Christmas baubles, round and shiny. And perfect for weddings because, according to folklore, they are a symbol of fertility and represent love and marriage. Rita, Brodie, and Rita’s parents loved my idea of a harvest feel that would be fitting and beautiful in the rustic farm setting.
I like to work with Nature and source local whenever possible. So, lucky for me and the happy couple, there are crabapple trees on the Carmichael property.
“It makes sense to go with what's available,” I say gleefully as I’m shown the crabapple trees in the Carmichaels’ kitchen garden. “These are wonderful. There’s no point in making things expensive and difficult by ordering spring flowers in October, or tropical orchids from Singapore when you have a showstopper like this growing right here on your property.”
Of course, the only exception to my ‘seasonal and local’ rule is Valentine’s Day. Everyone wants roses. In February. It’s mad but we do it. Valentine’s Day without roses? Not possible.
At Blossoms in Bloom, my laptop is open, and I run through the spreadsheet labelled Rita & Brodie. Laura sits opposite me at the counter looking at the same document on the iPad. Marty is making up a bouquet order for pick up later in the day.
“I’ll leave the checklist to you, Laura.”
“Yo.” Laura looks up from her screen briefly.
“Go through the orders, cross-check with the suppliers.” I glance down the color-coded columns.
“Got it.”
“If anything doesn’t add up, we need to get on top of it now,” I say as I reach for a pencil and jot down ‘orange’ in my notebook. “If a supplier can’t deliver flowering ginger, then ask what else they have in orange, asap, so I can give the clients the option of going with another idea. Also, if they are offering a special, grab it. We can do a whole orange store theme. What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” says Laura as she scribbles a note on her pad.
Usually, my suppliers are reliable, and usually things go to plan. That’s because I am fastidious. I check and double-check.
“Just one more thing,” I say with seriousness. Marty and Laura stop what they’re doing and look at me with concern as if I’ve spotted a problem. “The store looks and smells incredible. Thanks, team.”
Laura and Marty relax instantly and continue what they are doing. I wander around my store, thinking about Rita and Brodie’s wedding, then stop to admire the window display. Laura and Marty have done a fantastic job with a rusty wheelbarrow overflowing with summer blooms. Flowers and leaves spill out of the tops of a pair of rubber boots, and an old-fashioned watering can seems to be sprouting a riot of chrysanthemums. I love it. Flowers make me smile.
The string of bells at the door announces a customer with a pleasant tink, tink, tink. Sheena comes in looking slightly harassed. She has an emergency order from the hotel.
“It’s a fiftieth wedding anniversary,” Sheena says breathlessly. “I know that you’re super busy, but the daughter has booked her parents in as a treat. Last minute because of health issues. I said I’d ask, on her behalf, if we can get something gorgeous for their room.”
“I think that would be okay. When are they checking in?”
Sheena glances at her watch, then says, “Thirty minutes.”
“Okay then. What did she have in mind?” I close my eyes as if I’m a medium summoning spirits at a seance. “No. Don’t tell me. Roses. Red. A dozen.”
“Yes!” says Sheena, surprised. “How did you know.”
“Trust me. I’ve been in this biz for some years now.” I move to where a pail full of rose bouquets, made freshly this morning, stand ready for sale. “These perhaps?” Sheena nods, so I find a simple round glass vase and arrange the bunch of twelve red roses, offset with delicate white gypsophila, and leatherleaf ferns. “When you add the water in the room, sprinkle this sachet.” I hold up a sealed white packet. “It helps prolong the freshness of the roses.” I turn the vase and tweak the stems to make sure the arrangement works from every angle. “Would you like to choose a card?”
“Great idea,” says Sheena approaching the array of greetings cards at the counter. She picks one out and writes a message inside, then puts it in the envelope. I punch a hole in the gift card and thread a piece of raffia through, then tie it onto one of the roses. “Just gorgeous!”
“It smells wonderful too,” I say leaning across the counter and fixing her with a knowing look. “So, Sheena.” She meets my gaze and appears slightly alarmed. “Has he asked you out yet?”
“Sorry?” Sheena furrows her brow. “Who?”
“The Texan. The cowboy, of course.”
Sheena starts to laugh. “No. What are you talking about?”
“You can’t tell me that you don’t think he’s handsome.”
“Yes. I suppose he is, in a southern rodeo kind of way.”
“Ha! I knew it. I knew there was something in the air besides the fragrance of gladioli.” I retrieve a cardboard carton from under the counter.
Sheena shakes her head and laughs. “You’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies. Or perhaps you’ve designed too many weddings.”
“No, my friend. I have an instinct for getting things going in the romance department.” I use tape to reinforce the sides and bottom of the carton, then I place the vase of roses inside. “Just look at Molly and Cam.” I pick up the carton and walk toward the door.
“Wow, Lydia. I didn’t realize you were Cupid in that love story,” Sheena says as she follows me through the store past shelves and buckets of flowers and leaves. She then walks quickly past and opens the door, making the string of bells chime again.
“Not so much Cupid, but it was me who pointed Cam out to my idiot best friend.” I carry the roses out to Sheena’s car.
“So, you think that Luke Maddox is into me?” Sheena looks skeptical but places her hands over her heart.
“Stranger things have happened, Sheena. Leave it with me. I’ll do some digging for you.”
“Okay then, if you want,” says Sheena climbing into the driver’s seat still looking unconvinced.
“Sure. No problem,” I say as Sheena starts the engine and winds down her window. “I’ll charge these to the hotel account?”
“Yes, please. Just reference my name. And thank you so much,” Sheena says with a smile. She blows a kiss then drives away.
I wave and watch as Sheena goes. Another happy customer. I love my job.
As I walk into my store again the phone rings. “I’ll get it,” I call out as I reach for the handset next to the till. “Blossoms in Bloom. How may I help you today?”
Rita Carmichael is on the line and sounds worried. She tells me that the crabapples at her folks’ place have developed some kind of blight.
“Oh, Lydia. I’m sad,” says Rita. “The fruit is all mottled with black blotches which looks horrible. We’re going to have to rethink the floral design without the crabapples.”
“That’s such a shame.” I hold the phone away from my head while I think. “Listen. It’s not over yet. We can still go with the crabapples but from somewhere else. Crabapple trees are not unusual. I’m pretty sure I can source them from someone locally. It might alter the budget a little, but…”
“I don’t mind. If you think you can find healthy beautiful crabapples, then do it. I’d just love to have what we agreed on. I don’t want to compromise anything on our special day.”
“Alright, Rita. I’ll see what I can do and get back to you tomorrow. I’m pretty confident we’ll get our gorgeous little apples.”
“You’re the best. Thank you.” Rita hangs up the call and my head whirs with possibilities.
“Crabapples!” I say loudly to the flowers in my store.
Marty pops his out of the storeroom. “Did you call?”
“No. But yes. Crabapples. Marty. Who grows crabapples around here?” They’re not an item commercially grown, that we can order from our regular suppliers. I only used them in my design because they were so abundant on the Carmichael property.
Marty scratches his head, then he says, “The Dixon ranch had an orchard and I’m pretty sure there were crabapple trees. But it’s been sold now, so...”
“Yes. Marty. You are a genius.” I grab my assistant by his shoulders and kiss his cheek. “Two birds. One stone.”
“Lydia?” Marty looks concerned.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“Marty. You have no idea how okay I am.” I scoot around the counter and grab my purse, then I head for the exit. “Can you mind the store? I’m going out to see a cowboy about some apples.”