Page 15 of Flying

“My tips have suffered greatly since you switched to this brand. I’m glad you see the light.”

“Hey, Delia,” I soften, “you do have a family in us though. It’s not just lip service.”

Her eyes shimmer with moisture as she blinks back tears and nods.

“I just think it’s ridiculous that Landan and Grant were allowed to drive away my sister. It was bad enough when Landan…” she trails off.

“When she what?”

“This is so embarrassing.” She drops her head into her hands.

“Probably, but nothing more bad wine can’t fix,” I tease.

“Okay, so Landan just had a tendency to find that thing you were most insecure about and at the perfect moment drop it casually. She did that a lot when we were still friends is all. It took a long time to see how fake that relationship was, and it always hurt. I can’t explain it better.”

“You’re right, you need the good stuff when dealing with people who manipulate your emotions or cut you down.” With that, I hand her a glass of water. “Unfortunately, we’re not off the clock yet for set up. Let’s go, Rosie’s is delivering the flowers and I need you to help make Susan’s dream of a ray of sunshine made of flowers come to life.”

twelve

Lily

At 6:00 p.m. sharp I descend the steps from River’s studio to the party below. It is jam-packed with the usual suspects for Peacock Springs. Looking around I see Prudence reading cards at a table packed with Stef’s female cousins. There is a rousing chat between Pippa Whitter, Seth’s middle sister and co-owner of Pages, and Albert, the librarian. They are loudly debating who is allowed to prominently display which new releases to avoid long holds and low sales.

Carmine Salvatore is in the kitchen chatting with the line cooks. Contemplating the thank you owed for his support during the months I tried to learn to cook abruptly ends when I see his girls swarm around him. No thanks, not interested in being front and center for the firing squad.

Rosie, the florist, is adjusting a bouquet. It’s hard to believe how much she’s aged since I was last home. Susan has outdone herself with the event. Yellow blooms decorate every flat surface creating a burst of sunshine. There are easily over a thousand of them scattered around the party in every shape and hue. They perfectly pay tribute to Stef’s warm demeanor.

This is capped off by ornate framed photos of Stef and Lee scattered around the room. The couple grows from infants to adults; it shows a healthy mix of family, friends, and milestones. The traditional cap and gown photo with Mom and Dad flanking the graduatestings. It also leads me directly to a series of gold serving platters holding a variety of appetizers. Their heavenly scent was wafting upstairs as I got ready, making me drool. My stomach rumbles as I take in the display and quickly fill a plate and try to make myself blend in.

My eyes shift from group to group trying to figure out who is safe to talk to versus avoiding my gaze. More importantly, who will be respectful enough not to ask a barrage of invasive questions. I’d go over to River who is currently standing behind the bar despite swearing this evening he’d have someone cover, but the Kelly men are talking to him.

The duo are the rules loving sticklers who would consider marching me across the square and plopping me down in the stocks today just because I’m in town limits.Right? They’re going to care, aren’t they?I just want to avoid people who don’t want me here, is that too much to ask?

I’m trying desperately to find where Nessa and Delia are, and hoping they aren’t mad that I “ditched them” so far on this trip. I can explain, if Nessa will allow it. Trying to slip outside to the porch for some air, desperate to leave this crowded room and thwarted by a man's imposing figure. I send out a silent prayer: please be a cousin or uncle who won’t know me. I breathe in the same scent I woke up surrounded by and immediately know.

“River,” I say more breathily than I planned. His hands run down my arms causing soft jolts of electricity to dance across my skin. He pulls me in closer, hugging me, as I grumble, “I need a fucking drink.”

I’m not used to this sort of causal touch. The deep pressure steadies me more with each passing second. I think I missed hugs, and I wonder how he knew. His lips skim my ear, “You’ve got this, tiger. Drinks we can do but, maybe, less strong tonight? Fewer?”

Entwining our fingers together, he leads me through the crowd of people. I keep my eyes on the floor and watch to not step on anyone while silently reciting to myself a calming phrase.You do not know them anymore, and they do not know you. You do not owe them anything, and they do not owe youuntil we duck under the arm of a waitress raising a tray. I grab some of the tequila from the top shelf.

“Sure, less strong than yesterday. Have at it.”

He winks so I shake the amber liquid over ice cubes.

Nessa and Delia’s voices reach me as I pour the first few shots. I wave them over as Seth rounds the bar and joins us. The men do a manly greeting ritual, first high fives with back pats, that morphs to vocalized adoration, wrapping up with a hug. The performance is just over the top enough to break my momentary anxiety and cause my heart to overflow. I love these people. I’ve missed them and I want to be here.

Don’t I deserve to be here?The question seeds into my head, but I push it aside.

“We need a toast,” Delia interrupts my train of thought.

Seth raises his glass, “To honor!”

Delia groans.

This awful relic of his college days boasts about coming ‘on her’ which raises Delia and Nessa’s collective ire. I’ve heard all about this toast, but never the entire thing but as River claps a hand on the back of Seth’s head and he stops.

He sternly warns, “I can cut you off before you get your first drink. Show some respect.”