Brownie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” She slammed down the phone as usual.
Yay! I don’t have to do it. I don’t have to do it, Christy sang to herself. She made horns with one hand and a tail with the phone.
Renata cracked up. “Yeah, she’s kind of a—”
“Renaaaata…” Christy stopped her from saying it, though she couldn’t have agreed more.
As Renata took the cupcakes out of the oven, she announced, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Mrs. Rich called this afternoon.”
“Thanks for the message.”
After the flattened cakes cooled, Christy and Renata cut them apart, peeled off the paper, and iced them anyway. “No sense letting these go to waste, don’t you think? I mean, they’re still cupcakes.”
“And we need something to eat while we watch TV,” Renata agreed.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have Yok Wah whip up a new batch tomorrow. You can decorate them yourself and take them to school with your invitations.”
Renata smiled as they settled in to watch back-to-back episodes of The Cosby Show. By the time Rudy gave Cliff that “all’s well that ends well” hug at the end of the second episode, the cupcakes were gone.
Where Have All the Flowers Gone?
There was a major snowstorm on the day of Christy’s honorary luncheon. But Christy wasn’t worried. All she had to do was get the flowers there. Brownie was in charge of the rest. Still, she felt more trepidation about this event than she used to feel about business meetings with real stakes.
“It’s at Fifth Avenue between Seventy-eighth and Seventy-ninth, the limestone building with gargoyles in the front,” Christy said. She was determined to do her part perfectly.
“We can find the building,” the floral clerk said. “We just don’t think we can get there in this weather. Our van just had a collision because the streets are so slick.”
“But the flowers have to be delivered. If they aren’t, I’ll be ruined,” Christy whined.
“No, our driver was fine. Thank you for caring,” the clerk said.
“I’m really sorry,” Christy said. “For reasons you’ll never understand because I don’t, these flowers have taken on a ridiculous level of importance.”
Christy called five other florists in the city, ordering four arrangements of blue hydrangeas mixed with white peonies and a spray of yellow delphinium from each. No one would guarantee delivery. Conditions were so unsafe that the mayor had declared a state of emergency. Schools were closed. Businesses shut down. People were told to stay indoors unless it was a medical necessity. Brownie called her luncheon guests to say that they could ignore that directive. She said she had personally asked the mayor to make an exception for their lunch. What a show off, Christy thought.
The flowers arrived just as the guests did. The hydrangeas were pink instead of blue, but Christy was relieved. She tipped the driver handsomely for coming out in this weather, then quietly placed a centerpiece on each table, the dais, and the buffet line.
Christy sat at the head of the table with Brownie and her two minions. She didn’t know their names, nor could she tell them apart. They were the efficient gatekeepers who kept Christy waiting outside Brownie’s office for hours at a time. On other occasions, she had seen them walking two steps behind Brownie taking notes, carrying her stuff, or sucking up in assorted and pathetic ways. You can’t tell where Brownie’s butt ends and their noses begin, Christy thought, right before complimenting Brownie on her vintage Pucci dickie. “Someone’s been shopping in Palm Bee-each,” she said, giving her a playful finger wag. Ugh. Tell me I didn’t just do that.
The other two tables were filled with fifth-grade moms, most of whom Christy had met at the assembly when the mothers and daughters read their tributes to each other. At least Andrea was there. Christy gave her a friendly wave. Andrea made the thumbs-up sign.
As lunch was being served, there was a knock at the door and a man entered with four vases brimming with yellow roses. Oh Lord, Christy thought. She quietly intercepted him and placed each arrangement on any flat surface she could find. “Thanks for making the delivery,” she whispered, handing the guy twenty bucks.
Brownie stood to welcome everyone and introduce Christy. “Ladies, thank you all so much for coming today in such nasty weather. It is a tribute to all of you as mothers that you would risk life and limb to attend a school function supporting such an important cause, our fifth graders’ graduation. And—”
A rapping sound interrupted Brownie’s speech. The door to the room burst open and two flower-delivery men in Arctic parkas walked in, each carrying multiple centerpieces—pink and white chrysanthemums, purple irises, peach lilies. Everyone turned to see who it was. Christy discreetly directed each man to line the back wall with his flowers. She reached into her wallet for a tip, but was out of cash.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the two men. “I don’t have any money. If you’ll write your names here, I’ll mail you a tip.” She offered up a paper napkin and a pen.
“I don’t think so, lady. If I don’t collect now, I don’t collect,” the first man said, a wee bit loudly.
“Is there a problem?” Brownie asked from the podium, her right eyelid twitching in burning rage.
Christy looked sheepishly toward the podium. Her burgeoning career as a Colby Mommy was disintegrating before her eyes.
“Um, we received some extra flowers, and I’m out of cash for tips. Can I borrow a couple of twenties from anyone?” Christy asked.
The ladies started digging in their purses. Three women got up and pressed twenties into Christy’s hands. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
Brownie was red-faced, but she went on with her speech. “As you know, our fifth-grade graduation is a huge celebration for us all. The
