Flowers and Financiers by Alina Jacobs

5

Amy

Ibreathed in the fresh country air when I hopped out of my grandfather’s pickup truck. It smelled like Harrogate and home.

Several goats ran up to greet me. Baxter, shoeless because of all the natural ground cover, trotted off to greet the other horses.

“We have three new baby goats on the way,” Ernest, my grandfather, said happily. “Sure hope you can get over here for that.”

“I’ll try.”

“I know you’re busy,” he said, giving me a huge hug. “I just like seeing ya.”

“I know,” I said against his chest.

I loved my grandfather, and I knew he adored me. After my mom had peaced out and gone to South America to find herself, my granddad had raised me. I had spent my childhood gardening and riding horses. Now I grew all the flowers I used for the wedding bouquets, decorations, and table centerpieces at his farm in state-of-the-art greenhouses.

“And how are my babies doing?” I cooed as Ernest followed me into the closest greenhouse. I breathed in the humid air and inspected the orchids that hung from special trellises.

“Do we need to hire a few more people?” I asked my grandfather. “We have a lot of brides who want waterfalls. Orchids especially seem to be hot this year, and I know they’re a bit maintenance intensive.”

“Remy and the Rural Trust Foundation mentioned that they had a few people in the job-training program interested in this field,” he said. “The mayor has said she wants more jobs for people with a high school diploma available.”

“Are you talking about the wedding?” an older woman called from the door.

“Hi, Ida!”

“I heard you’re planning the wedding of the century for Harrogate’s very own royalty! Now,” she said before I could get a word in, “first of all, you look fantastic! Don’t you just have the best granddaughter?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ernest said. “I do.”

Ida grabbed me and dragged me outside. “All that humidity is going to make my uterus collapse,” she said.

Ernest turned red at the word and mumbled something about feeding the goats.

Ida, fists on hips, shook her head.

“Honestly, I don’t know how that man survives. You can’t just leave him here to wander around by himself,” she scolded me. “But let me tell you. I have a whole book of ideas for the wedding planning.” Ida pulled a scrapbook out of her enormous bag.

“We’re actually going to let the bride choose the wedding design,” I said faintly.

“I know. I know,” Ida said, “but get a load of this. Me and the Harrogate Girls Club put it together. Did you know that popular movies are hot wedding themes right now? Picture an Austin Powers 1970s themed wedding!” She flipped to another page in the scrapbook, which featured the head table on a dusty-orange shag carpet.

“You should have seen me in the seventies!” Ida crowed. “I was something. Isn’t that right?” she shouted to Ernest, who mumbled and moved farther away from us.

“We will definitely take your ideas into consideration,” I said, taking the scrapbook from her.

“Here’s another goodie for you,” she said, handing me a spiral-bound packet. “I know you’re getting up there in years, and Ernest may want to meet your children before he completely loses his marbles. Since you’re not around much, I have a list of all the eligible bachelors and their birthdays, hobbies, and where you can find them at any given time of the day.”

I flipped the packet open to a random page. Staring back at me was a picture of a surprised and angry half-naked man. I slammed the book shut.

“That was a good picture, wasn’t it? I got banned from Circus Gym for that one. Worth it! He’s a bit too wet behind the ears for me, but I’m helping out the young women of this town and doing my civic duty.”

Ah, small towns…

“I’ll see you at the town hall meeting! I dropped off some pickled eggs for you,” she said with a wave.

“Nothing like coming home to your small town,” I said to Ernest as we went into the farmhouse.

It was getting dark, and the greenhouses glowed softly off in the distance from the window of the farmhouse kitchen.

I set about boiling water and chopping onions for the sausage and pierogi filled with potato, cheese, mushrooms, and sauerkraut I was making for dinner.

“I’m glad you all have a wedding here,” Ernest said, slicing butter and throwing it into the pan, where it sizzled. “It’ll be nice to see more of you.”

I patted his arm. “I’m just doing the flowers for the wedding, so I’m not sure I’ll be here all that much.”

He looked a little sad.

“But I’m definitely going to try to come to Harrogate more often. I want to do more horseback riding.”

“Just so you know,” he told me, “since everyone’s talking about the wedding between the mayor and her beau, I have some money saved up for you for your wedding.”

“Oh, Granddad!” I said. “Spend that on yourself! You said you wanted a new truck.”

“Truck runs just fine.”

“You have to use a screwdriver to open the door,” I reminded him.

“Still works,” he said stubbornly. “Besides, I want you to have a nice wedding, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m too busy to try to find a boyfriend, let alone someone marriageable,” I said lightly. I scraped the sausage into the skillet and put the pierogi in the water to simmer.

“There are some decent men in Harrogate.”

“Yes, but after this kickoff meeting, I’m not sure how much I can be here, and when I am, I want to spend all my free time with you!”