“We’re down at Denny’s on Monroe Ave,” he said. Girl got dressed and drove down to see him. She was surprised that Mother was at the restaurant, drinking coffee with all of Brother’s punk friends. Mother hugged her, tears in her own eyes.
“It’s been twenty years, but I wish I still smoked right now,” Mother said when Brother lit a cigarette.
At the wake a few days later, Girl picked up the box of Tigger’s ashes at the prompting of his sister. “Feel how light it is,” the sister had urged her. It didn’t feel like an entire person was contained in the metal box. It felt like nothing at all.
After Tigger died, Brother fell apart. He stopped going to work, dropped out of school, and was evicted from his apartment. He spent the next few years bouncing between friends’ apartments, winding up on Girl’s doorstep when he ran out of places to stay. Stepmother would not allow him to come back home, though Mother did give him a box of food every time she saw him.
Girl still worked at South Wedge Florist, and since Tony’s birthday party, everyone at the shop always asked about Sharon. Her roommate hung out with William, too, taking him to doctor’s appointments when Girl was busy, or going out to lunch with him.
“My two little nurses,” William called them. “Sharon is so beautiful, don’t you think?” he asked Girl. She was visiting William alone this time. “I want to get married before I die. Do you think Sharon would marry me? She’d be a gorgeous bride with that long red hair.” Girl was uncomfortable and a little jealous.
“Why do you want to get married?”
“Oh, I have spent my life planning other people’s weddings. I want to do one completely my way.”
Girl understood that—she always thought about her own wedding while she put together flowers for other people’s ceremonies. Girl wanted more than anything to be a princess for just one day, wearing a gown and feeling beautiful, surrounded by admiring friends and family. They always had bridal magazines around the flower shop, and at lunch she’d dream her way through the pages, trying to decide the best way to wear her hair, the best dress for her figure. Girl evaluated every church and reception hall she set up so she could pick the prettiest one when it was her big day. She no longer had a steady boyfriend, but that didn’t stop her from planning everything she could, even down to the money box shaped like Cinderella’s pumpkin-turned-carriage. Girl could understand William’s yearning for his own wedding, but she wondered why William didn’t want to marry Walter, his life partner. She didn’t know why he wanted to marry a girl so badly. Girl didn’t think it occurred to William to marry Walter, perhaps because of the ingrained Catholic sensibilities he was raised with, but mainly, Girl thought, because he wanted to pick out bridal gowns and attendants dresses as much as she did. He wanted to plan his big day, and straight was the only acceptable version of that in his eyes.
“Besides, I need someone to register my car for me,” William said. “The insurance is too much to just have a Porsche. It’s a lot cheaper if you have two cars on one policy. My friend Roselyn used to do it for me but she said she can’t anymore, even though I did her drapes in her living room and everything.” Oh, so there was added motivation behind it, Girl thought. There was no way she would put his car on her insurance. Mother would kill her.
Girl talked to Sharon about it the next day.
“That’s funny,” Sharon said. “He says the same thing to me about you. He tells me how beautiful you are. Says you are a natural beauty and I’m only pretty with makeup. And he wants to marry you but is afraid to ask.”
“I only want to only get married for love,” Girl said. There was more than that, though. Girl kissed William on the lips every time she saw him without thinking twice about it—all the gay guys at work gave pecks on the lips to all their friends. But if she married him would he want to have sex with her? That she couldn’t do. Girl couldn’t sleep with an HIV-positive man when she was only eighteen. What if she got sick, too? But he was dying. If Girl was a good friend, wouldn’t she marry him? And what about money? Wouldn’t she be responsible for his bills if they got married? Girl knew that William was racking them up, figuring he’d die before he had to pay them.
“Why do you think he plays us against each other like that?” Girl asked.
“I have no idea. It’s weird,” Sharon said. William was stirring the pot at work, too. He and Bob were constantly fighting, so he hired someone to replace Bob, but Ryan wouldn’t fire him. Now they had two people who thought they were the head designer and only enough work for one of them.
“William’s still kind of an asshole,” Girl said. “I know you aren’t supposed to say that about someone who is dying, but he is.”
“Did he tell you his plan?” Sharon asked.
“What plan?”
“Well, he wanted to place an ad for a threesome in the paper and have guys come over and undress for us, and then I was supposed to say I wasn’t interested. That way we’d both get to see naked penises for free.”
“He didn’t ask me about that. I do think he likes you better. Are you gonna do it?” It sounded predatory. Mean. Girl wanted no part of it. She understood
