The Blossoming: The Third book in The Green Man Series

by Sharon Brubaker

  “Show Diane your wedding invitation,” her Mom suggested. “It almost looks like the lace on your dress.”

  Sylvia pulled the invitation from her purse and handed it to Diane. Diane studied it for a minute and then began to sketch quickly on her notepad. She turned it so that everyone could see.

  “How’s this?” she asked. “You could have a square cake of two or three tiers. I can tint the icing to a pale sage green, like your attendants’ dresses. I can create a lacy effect from icing with the leaf design that’s on this invitation.”

  “Oh!” Sylvia exclaimed, “That sounds perfect!”

  “Do you have a topper?” Diane asked.

  Sylvia wrinkled her nose. “No. I don’t like a lot of the bride and groom ones,” she admitted.

  “You can put on anything you want,” Diane assured her. “Also, I can do a lovely fondant bow.” She borrowed the scrapbook to show Sylvia an example.

  “Why don’t you think on it,” Diane suggested and let me know. “You have plenty of time.”

  “You are the only person that thinks that!” Sylvia told Diane and glanced at the women at the table before she laughed a little ruefully.

  Diane smiled at her, “No worries! Now the fun begins,” Diane said. “Excuse me a minute.”

  Diane stood up and left the room.

  “She’s AWESOME,” Carol stage whispered.

  “I love her design idea,” Marian said. “I think your cake will be just lovely.”

  Sylvia agreed. Diane was back in a moment with small white china plates, forks, and some samples. They all tasted the various cakes--chocolate, white, carrot and red velvet. Sylvia was particularly fond of a pound cake with mini chocolate chips inside.

  “I think this is my favorite,” she told Diane. “Owen would love this.”

  “And I can make up an icing between the layers that is like cookie dough. I add lots of brown sugar to the icing and more mini chocolate chips,” she told Sylvia.

  “Sounds divine,” Sylvia said.

  Everyone nodded in agreement. Diane went to get a contract. With paperwork settled, they left the bakery and Sylvia felt a weight off her shoulders.

  “Way to go, girlfriend,” Carol told her. “One more thing completed. Now, we need to address those invitations. Can we all go back to your place and have an assembly line to get them ready to go out in tomorrow’s mail?”

  Sylvia laughed. “Is that okay with everyone?” she asked, knowing her mom, Anne and Marian would be more than happy to help.

  They spent the afternoon putting together the invitations that had arrived on Friday. Their assembly line worked and it only took a couple of hours to complete the task.

  Owen called her on her cell phone. She knew he had been working things out with the purchase of the new boat.

  “Hi!” she answered the phone. “How are you? Where are you?”

  “You sound happy,” He said, “You must have had a successful morning.”

  “We did! We did!” Sylvia exclaimed. “Wait till I tell you about the cake. And,” she added, burbling on, “the invitations are all addressed and ready to go.”

  “Great!” Owen agreed. “But, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Anything,” Sylvia answered. “What do you need?”

  Owen’s reply was teasing and his voice dropped to a husky drawl, “You’re dangerous, do you know that? I can think of a myriad of things that I need…” his voice trailed off.

  He paused a moment while Sylvia’s heart flip-flopped.

  “I need you to get into your bathing suit,” he told her, “and meet me out front in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” she sounded puzzled. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter 15

  “My she was yar,” Tracy Lord (from The Philadelphia Story)

  She hung up the phone and turned to the group and told them what Owen had asked. Marian and Anne knew something. Both had a twinkle in their eyes. Mary came with another pitcher of iced tea and asked if they wanted to sit on the deck. Sylvia scooted upstairs to change. She joined the ladies in more casual clothes and accepted a glass of iced tea from her mother. She sat on the deck where she could look into the driveway for Owen, but he did not come. She tapped her foot a little impatiently. Finally, a car pulled into the driveway. Phil emerged, but no Owen. Where was he? She was about to call out her question when Phil pointed to the bay. Motoring as close to the shoreline as possible was a sailboat. It had a gorgeous dark hull and the sails were down, but it was still lovely moving slowly through the water. At the helm was a man who was waving at her. It was Owen! It must be his new boat. She grinned and waved back. His happiness was evident all the way to the shoreline.

  He maneuvered the boat as closely as he could to the mooring he had placed in the water a couple of weeks ago in preparation for the vessel’s arrival. Jon’s head popped up and he went up to the bow of the boat. He had a long tool in his hand and he somehow finagled the device and the mooring and the boat was secured. Owen dropped a ladder. He and Jon climbed down and waded to shore. Mary had thoughtfully rushed in to get towels as Sylvia still stood, a bit stunned at what was happening. Marian rushed down to the shoreline to meet Jon and Sylvia, waking from the surprise, ran down as well and threw herself into Owen’s arms.

  “She’s beautiful!” she told him.

  His grin was from ear to ear and he beamed down at her. “Yes, she is and so are you,” he told Sylvia before giving her a kiss.

  “I can’t wait to see her,” Sylvia told him anxiously. “Can we go? Now?”

  Owen laughed, “Yes,” he told her. “We’ll go out for a quick tour. And then we can get the dinghy and take everyone else who wants a tour. I think Phil stopped by the liquor store for some champagne. Maybe the moms can rustle up some snacks and plastic cups?”

  Mary and Anne went inside.

  Carol prodded Sylvia. “What are you waiting for, girl? Get on your boat!”

  Owen and Sylvia waded into the water. As she got closer to the boat, Sylvia felt a small shiver of apprehension. It was so big!

  “Before we go on board, I want to show you something,” he told her.

  Owen pulled her through the water to the stern. They were treading water now. Sylvia looked up to see fancy scrollwork spell out “True Love.” Her mouth dropped open and tears came to her eyes.

  “Now you know why I had to get this boat,” Owen told her, “One, because you are my true love and two, because of your infatuation with “The Philadelphia Story.””

  “Oh!” Sylvia breathed. She couldn’t throw her arms around him in the water - not easily. She would need to wait until they got aboard. “Oh, Owen!” was all Sylvia could say.

  “Come on,” he said, “let’s get aboard.”

  He helped her over to the ladder and she climbed up the ladder and went, not so gracefully, over the side of the boat. When Owen had his feet on the deck, she threw herself into his arms.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said before correcting the statement, “no, it’s yar,” Sylvia said using the term from “The Philadelphia Story.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Owen corrected her. “But, you have to see the rest of her. He led her below down a small set of stairs. Below he pointed out the equipment, the galley, the bathroom or ‘head’ Owen corrected himself. He also showed her their berth where they would be sleeping.

  “You know that sailors are a superstitious lot, don’t you?” he asked as they were checking out all the nooks and crannies.

  “What are you talking about?” Sylvia said distractedly. “And, you are the least superstitious person I know,” she commented.

  “Well,” Owen told her with a grin, “I like this particular superstition. You know it’s bad luck to have a woman on board.”

  “What?” Sylvia asked. “Are you kidding?”

  “Bad luck,” he paused, “unless they’re naked,” he told her with a grin. “So, guess what,” He suggested, “you’ll have to be naked, a lot when we’re sai
ling.”

  “I suppose it means I’ll be spending a lot of time in the berth with you?” she said coyly. “Wanna’ give it a try, sailor?” she teased.

  “If only,” Owen groaned. “I know the rest of the pack will be coming on board in a couple of minutes. Later,” he told her, “we’ll have plenty of opportunities to check out the good luck you can bring to the vessel.”

  Owen began to reach for her when a voice floated down to them, “Ahoy!” It was Phil. He had rowed half of the group over to the boat and was headed back for the rest. Owen rushed up to give a hand to Mary, Anne and Carol to get aboard.

  Mary, Anne, and Carol crawled all over the boat and asked Owen a million questions while they waited for the others to arrive. Phil and Jon held the dinghy steady for Marian to nimbly come up the ladder, followed by Jon and later Phil, who tethered the dinghy to the boat for their return trip.

  Sylvia stayed on deck with Jon while Owen gave the rest of the group a tour of the stateroom and cabin. Sylvia could hear their praises through the hatch as they poked around. Jon busied himself with getting champagne and nibbles from a tote bag they had brought along.

  “So what do you think of your surprise?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  Sylvia looked at the boat from bow to stern and at the sparkling water in front of her before she answered, “It’s totally amazing!” she told him with a touch of awe in her voice. “It’s -she's beautiful,” she told Jon.

  “Just wait until your first sail,” Jon told her. “She’s a dream of a boat. You and Owen will have many happy years sailing this vessel.”

  “I think so,” she agreed and before she could say anything else, Marian’s head popped up out of the hatch.

  Jon rushed over to give his wife a hand. Everyone gathered on deck. Owen was at the helm, beaming with pride and happiness.

  “It’s time to christen this vessel,” Jon announced. He turned to Owen, “I assure you, Owen, I will not harm this beautiful boat by breaking a bottle of champagne against the side, but I will pour champagne on it to assure you safe passages.”

  Jon proceeded to hand plastic cups filled with champagne to everyone before he opened another bottle.

  He raised his cup and toasted, “To the ‘True Love,’” he said, acknowledging the boat, “and to true love,” he raised his glass to Sylvia and Owen, but looked so deeply at Marian that she blushed.

  “Here! Here!” Mary raised her glass.

  Everyone toasted. Jon poured the champagne on the edge of the boat. Everyone cheered when the last drop of champagne left the bottle and splashed onto the gunnel.

  Anne and Marian passed around platters of cucumber sandwiches and cheese and crackers. Phil and Jon refreshed everyone’s plastic cup with more champagne. The afternoon ebbed towards evening with suggestions of sailing destinations, as well as catching up the men on the latest wedding information. A plaintive bark came from the shoreline.

  “I think we need to head home and let Percy out,” Sylvia told Owen.

  “And I need to get home as well,” Carol answered, smiling, “and make dinner for my man.”

  Carol gave Sylvia a huge hug. “I’m taking off as soon as I get to shore. I’m so glad you were surprised,” she told her friend. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Sylvia hugged her friend back. “I know, I know, flowers this week.”

  Carol gave her a thumb’s up as she went down the ladder to join Phil, Mary, and Anne in the dinghy. In a short while, Phil had returned and gave over rowing to Jon as he and Marian got into the dinghy.

  “We’ll be right in,” Owen told his Dad. “We’re going to swim to shore.”

  Phil nodded to his son and they cast off. Sylvia and Owen watched Jon row to shore. He and Phil pulled the dinghy out of the water, put the oars inside securely and pulled it away from the high tide mark and turned it upside down. Owen went to double check the boat one more time to make sure everything was secure before he and Sylvia jumped into the water. The tide was high and the water a good bit deeper now. They didn’t struggle, but swam and rode some of the wavelets to shore from a passing cigarette boat. They pulled themselves out of the water and as they stood, they could still feel the pull of the tide. Between the pull of the tide and the champagne, Sylvia was a little unsteady on her feet. Owen took her by her elbow and steadied her. They took large steps through the shallow water to reach the shoreline where Percy waited anxiously. He pranced and yipped at them until Sylvia put a calming hand on his head. Mary was heading towards them with a couple of beach towels.

  “I have an idea,” she called when she knew they could hear her, “what if I drive to the ice cream stand up the road while you two clean-up. I can pick up some takeout. They say their pulled pork is amazing, but they have all kinds of sandwiches to choose from in addition to the ice cream,” Mary told them.

  Sylvia looked at Owen and shrugged. “Okay with you for dinner?” she asked.

  “Fine with me,” Owen answered. “Sounds great.”

  “Okay!” Mary said, “Decision made. I’ll get my keys and see you in about twenty minutes.”

  She hurried to walk to the house for her keys and purse. Owen’s eyebrows lifted when he looked at Sylvia.

  “Twenty minutes,” he said hopefully to Sylvia.

  “Oh! You!” she returned with a swat of her towel to his bottom playfully. “Race you to the shower,” she challenged.

  About twenty-five minutes later, Owen was putting the wet swimsuits and towels into the washing machine, when Mary returned laden with plastic bags filled with their food. A smile played at his lips and his curly hair was still damp from the shower and the July humidity.

  “You’re having quite the day,” Mary remarked to him.

  “I am indeed,” he returned.

  “I’m so glad the boat worked out so well,” she told him kindly.

  Sylvia stepped into the room, her hair damp as well. She had left it loose to dry in the summer air.

  “Deck for dinner?” Mary asked.

  Sylvia and Owen nodded. Owen took the bags from Mary while Sylvia got drinks and Mary took out silverware and napkins. They were just settling into their food when Owen’s cell phone rang.

  “It’s Scotty!” he cried. “Excuse me,” he told the women. Owen took himself to the Adirondack chair in the yard, where he could talk and watch the sunset provide a dramatic backdrop to the ‘True Love.’ He returned a few minutes later with a broad grin on his face.

  “Good news!” He announced. “Scotty will be in the area next weekend!”

  “Terrific!” Sylvia replied, “I can’t wait to meet him! Is he going to stay here?” she asked.

  Owen was finally getting a chance to eat. His mouth was full of pulled pork and he had some lukewarm beach fries in his hand. He swallowed and answered, “No, he’s going to be in the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. He’ll be at a Sci-Fi convention and he wanted to know if we could go down and meet him to have dinner and a night out on the town.”

  Owen had snagged a few more beach fries before he continued, “I thought that we might want to sail to Baltimore to meet him there. It would be a great test for the ‘True Love.’ We could dock at either the Inner Harbor or Fells Point.”

  Owen looked at Sylvia hopefully. She replied with a nod, but then glanced at Percy.

  “Oh,” Owen murmured understanding, but he turned to Mary with pleading eyes and said, “Mary, would you mind grand-dog sitting?”

  Mary laughed and said, “Of course not!”

  “When would we leave?” Sylvia asked Owen.

  “Well,” he said thoughtfully and chewed another beach fry before answering, “we could sail off into the sunset on Friday evening. I’m hoping we could get one-third to one-half of the way on Friday night, find an anchorage and then sail into the harbor on Saturday. Or, we could leave at dawn on Saturday morning,” he offered.

  Sylvia turned to her mother, “Why don’t you just spend the week here, Mom? You wanted to be here to check out f
lowers for the wedding, right?”

  Mary thought it over. “I could have John and Donna pick up my mail and newspaper. They would keep an eye on the house too,” Mary answered. “If I need to, I can head up on Thursday and be back on Friday before you leave.”

  Both Owen and Sylvia nodded happily.

  “While you ladies are flower shopping tomorrow evening,” Owen said, “I’m going to pick up a few things for our trip this weekend. We need to start stocking the larder on the boat.”

  They spent the evening talking about the boat and their first sail. Owen pulled out a chart book and showed Sylvia and Mary their route to Baltimore. Owen called Scotty to let him know of their plans. He was staying in a hotel adjacent to the convention center at the Inner Harbor and said he could meet them anywhere in the area.

  As they lay in bed that night, Owen pulled Sylvia tightly to him. “Like the boat?” he asked her.

  “She’s perfect,” she told Owen. “I can’t wait to go on my first sail.”

  He chuckled softly, “You know, this is a Buick boat too,” he teased.

  “What?” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know Regal made sailboats!”

  “They don’t, as far as i am aware,” Owen informed her, “but, this is a Sabre.”

  Sylvia looked confused.

  “Buick La Sabre?” Owen teased.

  “Oh, you! You and Skip will never let me live that down,” she complained.

  “Probably not,” Owen agreed, “but, you keep us smiling.”

  Sylvia was about to say something, but Owen covered her mouth with an insistent kiss. “You keep me smiling,” he said huskily.

  And she gave into his kisses with pleasure.

  Chapter 16

  “A well-spent day brings happy sleep.” Leonardo da Vinci

  Who knew that flowers could give you a headache, Sylvia thought. She rubbed her temples and listened to the chatter between the florist the yacht club recommended, her mom, Anne, Marian, Maureen, and Carol. It was the cake crowd, now working on the floral arrangements for the wedding. Sylvia had not had a clue as to the sheer number of flowers needed at a wedding, nor the outrageous expense. Her mother, thank God, just waved a hand at the cost, but Sylvia blanched when she looked at the prices. Her bridal bouquet was fairly simple and consisted of white roses, ranunculus, stephanotis, Queen Anne’s lace, rosemary, and holly. It was a full bouquet, hand tied with ribbon and lace that would match the gown. The holly was to honor her grandmother and the florist had suggested Queen Anne’s lace to add an airy feel to the bouquet instead of baby’s breath. For Gwen and Carol, the florist suggested green hydrangea, sage green spider mums, rosemary and Queen Anne’s lace. Sylvia was pleased with her designs even though the florist blanched visibly when she brought photos she had printed from Pinterest. She recovered and told the group that Pinterest was a nightmare for florists. People had no idea what flowers were available during a season and the incredible expense of many of the exotic bouquets.