The bride sounded defeated. “Okay, thanks.”
Elly hung up the phone with a sigh. Brooke called every single day, with minute changes to her contract. She did not work, and had a very rich and distant fiancée who was paying for their large wedding, but left her alone most of the time. Planning their wedding had become Brooke’s job. She had changed her colors three times already, deciding that yellow was too bright and pink was too cliché. Now they were on to cool shades, purples and blues. Elly fully expected her to make another two or three color changes before the wedding in July. Brooke drove her nuts – she was definitely one of her bridezillas – but she also sensed loneliness in her desperation. That alone gave her more patience than she would have thought possible. She quickly noted her contract on the computer: “Crazy wants lavender for grandfather’s bouts.”
Elly wheeled her chair around.
“Kiiiiim!” she hollered.
Kim strolled in, drinking greedily from a water bottle and sat down across from Elly.
“It is SO hot out there. Ugh.” She pushed back her bangs from her eyes. Elly looked at her, exasperated.
“You don’t even look hot. You never sweat. You just glow. I want to hit you. In a nice way.”
Kim grinned. Her olive skin had a shining line that ran down her arms and legs. Her long legs were tucked under her light coral sundress, accented with a pearl shell necklace and black flip flops. Knowing Kim as well as she did, Elly knew that this gorgeous ensemble had taken her two seconds to put together, and she probably hadn’t even showered. Elly, on the other hand, had taken an hour to get ready. She showered, carefully chose a cute outfit, applied her make-up and attempted to curl her unruly hair. She was wearing khaki shorts and a yellow scoop neck tank, and she already had sweated off all her make-up, pulled her hair up into a ponytail and swapped her cute clip flops for unattractive but comfy Crocs. It was 11 am and she was already experiencing what she liked to call the “afternoon stink”. Awesome.
“What do you want for lunch? I was thinking Keith’s,” Elly suggested.
Bald headed, charming and stocky, Keith Carcelo owned the deli next door to their studio. They had fantastic sandwiches: warm Italian breads were covered with every veggie, meat and cheese a person could imagine. The yeasty smells from the sandwich shop wafted through Posies, mixing with the fresh, light aroma of various flowers. The result was Elly’s favorite smell in the world. Besides knowing Elly’s favorite sandwich down to cucumber count, Keith was the best neighbor a girl could ask for. He was always helping out, whether with tossing out the trash, washing down her sidewalk or even taking Cadbury for walks occasionally when Elly was under the weather. Keith was wonderful, and Elly was glad to call him a friend.
“Yes. Keith’s sounds great,” Kim replied, leaning on the table, “but I need to talk to you first.”
A small twinge of alarm sounded in Elly’s mind. Kim sounded serious.
“Um, what’s up? You seem concerned.” She straightened her papers.
Kim sat up straight and took a deep breath and pushed her long hair behind her shoulders. “There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going say it. I have to leave Posies.”
“What do you mean you have to leave?” Elly stammered, “Like on vacation?”
“I mean, not work here anymore.”
Elly looked at Kim, slack jawed.
“I knew you were going to be upset and I don’t want this to affect our friendship,” Kim rushed on, “but I needed to tell you. I’m quitting.”
Elly felt her stomach drop. Kim reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“Please don’t be mad at me. This isn’t about you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it every day. But I need to move on from here. Sean and I have reached this decision together. This is the best decision for our family, and designing is not thrilling me like it used to.” She paused and looked into Elly’s face. “Are you okay?”
Elly was silent. Hurt, she lashed out at Kim. “How could you do this to me? It’s right before wedding season!”
Kim nodded, “I’ll work for you until you find a replacement, but I’m hoping to be done around June 1st.”
Elly snapped. “Well that’s a huge help. I need you. You are the only one who knows how to really design besides me! Why are you quitting? Are you unhappy? How long have you been unhappy?” Her voice caught awkwardly in her throat. Kim pursed her lips. Elly could see she was trying not to get snarky in return and told herself to calm down. She reached for a tissue. “I’m sorry. I’m just taken off guard.”
Kim smiled at her. “I knew you would be. I should have told you sooner. I put it off because I knew it would rough. For both of us.”
“Are you unhappy here?”
“I love the shop. I do. But I need to do other things now. C’mon,” she shrugged and looked like she wanted to say more. “You know I don’t have to work. I choose to work. But Sean needs me home more. I will probably stop in everyday, you know. I go crazy in my house. You understand.”
Elly did not understand. Kim lived in a huge house on Magdalyne Drive, which was just up the street. The community was gated, a lush park full of flowers and large stone houses, all of which were paid off with old money. Clayton was full of old money. Families that had made their fortunes during the time of the 1904 World’s Fair passed it down through generations, leaving many a young couple with more money than they ever dreamed. Kim’s husband Sean was a urological surgeon and made a pretty good living, but the house had been bought by his mother, who was the heir to the famous Creeden fortune. Their home was amazing. It was a combination of exquisite stones, rich fabrics and cutting edge art, picked by Kim’s eclectic eye, and old world furnishings, worth thousands of dollars. Elly loved going to Kim’s house. She was there practically every other day.
“No, I don’t understand. You don’t have to do anything. Are you just going to lay by the pool all day and drink mai tais? Why are you quitting? Is there a real reason?”
Kim’s face, even though Elly had just insulted her, stayed unruffled. “No. And I know that will upset you. I don’t have to justify myself to you…can’t you understand? Sometimes you just need to do what’s best for you.” She looked straight at Elly. “I would think you of all people would understand that.”
Elly sat back like she had been slapped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Kim leaned forward. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“No, what did you mean? TELL me. I mean, you obviously have no problem inconveniencing me.” Elly stood quickly. Kim stood as well.
“Okay. Fine. You left everything behind in Georgia. Your friends, your job, your house. You stopped going to church. You seem to have no problem doing what is best for you. I’m glad that you did, because if you hadn’t I wouldn’t have you in my life. But it’s wrong of you to sit there and judge me for quitting. This is my life, and I need to not work here anymore. That is the bottom line. This conversation is over. I knew you would freak out, but I didn’t know you would be so mean.”
Kim stood up and walked out the door, the bells clanking behind her. Elly wiped a tear from her eye. It had been years since she had fought like this with someone, and she had never fought with Kim. From that moment in the coffee shop, where Kim had saved her, they had been inseparable, the kind of adult friendship that she had always wanted. Most Sundays, Kim and Elly laid on bright pink rafts in Kim’s pool, floating lazily, her fingers trailing in the cool water, drinking smoothies and watching Sean fight with the grill. There was no way around it; Kim was her family here.
Elly instantly felt a painful twinge of remorse.
“Kim!” she walked outside, and saw Kim sitting at one of the small tables on the patio area, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She wrapped Kim up in her arms. It was so easy to hold skinny people. “I’m just sad you won’t be working for me anymore. Does that mean I have to promote Mood Swing over there?”
Kim laughed as they both looked through the win
dow into the store. Snarky Teenager was designing at the window-side table and chatting on her cell phone at the same time. She popped the head off a rose, mouthed a curse word and flung the rose stem against the window. “She’s hopeless,” Elly sighed, “but maybe she just needs more direction.”
“I know,” Kim said, as she nuzzled her head into Elly’s shoulder. “I will always be around. Just not on the clock. You know I’ll be here every day anyway. You’re okay, but what I really need is my daily grilled cheese from Keith.”
Elly smacked Kim’s arm and they headed into the shop to finish out the day’s work. When Elly arrived at her apartment hours later, with a pastry bag in one hand and a bouquet of blue delphinium in the other, there was a note posted on the door in a simple white envelope which read “Elly.” She frowned. She hadn’t been late on rent, had she? Crap, she thought, as she stuck the envelope between her teeth and opened the door. Thirty minutes later, after letting Cadbury pull her around the block several times, she sat down at her tiny kitchen table and wiped a bit of cannoli cream off her face. The note was written on some sort of red, thin paper with Indian ink drawings.
Elly, it read, I’m having some people over tonight for a sort of house-warming - stop by? Anytime works. I’ll even order you some Chinese! – Isaac.
Elly felt her heart-stop, mid-beat. The neighbor. The insanely handsome neighbor wanted her to come to his party. She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or elated by the Chinese food comment, but it didn’t matter at the moment. She had been invited to a party. By a man. This was monumental.
She touched the invitation softly. She shouldn’t go. It had been a long day with Kim announcing her decision, and Elly was exhausted both emotionally and physically. She crumbled her cannoli into the wrapper and tossed it in the trash. Elly turned around and flipped on the TV. Cadbury whined at her. She walked back into the bedroom, grabbed his little squeaky squirrel, and stomped back out to the living room. She threw the toy at Cadbury, who scampered madly down the hall.
It was then that she saw herself in her mirror above the dining room table. Blond curls falling over her face, thick tortoise-shell glasses hovering on the edge of her nose. Her curvy, rounded body was hidden under a bright blue t-shirt that was half-tucked into black gaucho pants. She was a mess. Was she just going to stay inside her apartment for the rest of her life? Live vicariously through Kim and Sean? Had Aaron (she winced at the name) taken everything from her? Cadbury leapt up at her with his toy hanging out of his mouth.
“I can do this,” Elly confirmed to herself. “I can be hot.”
Ten minutes later she was still staring at her closet, trying to find something that wasn’t even hot, just mildly attractive. Designing flowers was hot, messy and wet. She mostly wore tank tops and shorts, or, when she was alone in the studio, a camisole and underwear. Finally, she found a sheer black and white polka dot top, low in the front, and pulled that over a black tank top. She had one pair of slim khakis and slipped those on with some black flip flops. Her curly hair was unmanageable, so she pulled it back loosely with some bobby pins, put on some lip gloss and mascara and slipped out the back door.
A narrow walkway lined the apartments above Wydown Street, connecting them all through a series of fire escapes and tiny patios. She had been outside for barely a minute when she headed up to the apartment above Keith’s deli. As she lingered in front of the door, she smelled warm bread. It was both comforting and annoying – she was on the way to a party, thrown by a gorgeous man and now she was hungry. Thanks, Keith, she noted, annoyed. She arrived at the door, which was plastered with various band posters. Okay, Elly, breathe, she told herself. Please let me not embarrass myself. She closed her eyes and knocked on the door.
CHAPTER
FIVE
The door swung open, the handle grasped by a guy who was tall and very well dressed. Well, on the top anyway. He was wearing a white button down shirt and tuxedo jacket with ripped jeans.
“Heyyy,” he mumbled, obviously confused. He placed his arm across the door. “Are you here to pick up Jules?” Elly gulped.
“Um, what?”
“Are you her Mom?”
“No, no, I’m not. Is Isaac here?”
The guy dropped his arm from blocking the party and shouted, “Isaac… some girl’s mom is here to see you!!”
Some girl’s mom….Elly instantly regretted not only her decision to come, but also her decision to wear khaki pants. She glanced down at her outfit, suddenly realizing how much she looked like a soccer mom. Isaac leaned around the corner, holding onto the wall. His face contorted into a wild, irresistible grin.
“Elly! You came! I’m so glad.”
He took her warm hand – a move which was both shocking and sudden – into his cool one, and led her into the living room. The walls were a deep mustard color with a shabbily done texturing overlay. Red and orange couches were pushed up against two walls under two large pencil drawings in black plastic frames. Some sort of inventive, experimental music blared loudly through the room. It sounded like Yanni, only with rapping over it. Three very pretty girls lounged on one couch, and two men sat on the other and were engaged in what seemed to be a rousing debate. A man wearing a tight black t-shirt was waving his arm wildly.
“Your wording is ambiguous on that point. The commercialization of radio music has made it obtuse to arguments of taste. A music aficionado, while being able to recommend music, underscores the people’s choice in the matter. It’s either those who choose independence from influence…”
A girl in some sort of hideous witch-like dress leaned forward.
“Or a normal human being. Gene, you can’t be elitist about the whole thing. Radio is for the people. But musicians and people who see the inner workings, they know the truth. It’s our responsibility to teach, to educate…”
Isaac stepped into the middle of the argument. “Okay, okay! Calm down! I would like to introduce everyone to my new neighbor. This is Elly.”
Elly held her hand up in a half-wave. Everyone stared at her, wine glasses in hand. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Elly, are you a musician?” asked a red headed girl with horn-rimmed glasses. She looked doubtful.
“No, no, I’m not, I actually own the florist next door. We do mostly weddings.”
The girl looked at her blankly.
Elly continued blabbering. “I had a really interesting one the other day...there was this chocolate fountain...”
From the other couch, a man with a beret piped in. “Anyway, I believe that if we quit hanging on to these Judeo-Christian rules about music, than we will never be fully realized within our own potential.”
Elly felt lost, stuck in the middle of her own sentence, which she was still finishing.
“And er, I sat in the fountain….”
Isaac glanced at her. “Well, that is a story I want to hear. Come on, let’s leave these blabbering fools.” He winked at the girls on the couch, one of whom noticeably shifted under his gaze.
As he led Elly into the kitchen, it was obvious to her, and everyone at the party, that he only had eyes for her.
“What would you like to drink? I have wine, beer, water, cranberry juice…”
Elly raised her eyebrows. “Cranberry juice? That’s a very manly drink.”
Isaac nodded, “I know. But, at the end of a writing session, when everyone wants a beer, I just want cranberry juice. It stimulates my music, I think. I know, it’s weird. Don’t tell the indie panel,” he trailed off he gestured with his head towards the living room. “They are a little annoying, but they are nice people when you get to know them.”
He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear as he handed her a glass of juice.
“They definitely are a little boring though. You are very UN-boring.” His fingertips brushed over hers, and Elly found herself captivated by everything about him. Their eyes locked. Elly tore herself away from his brown eyes and looked around the kitchen. It was small and
bare, except for some food trays and a small Buddha statue on the window ledge. She gestured towards it.
“Is this yours, or do you have roommates?”
“Oh, my grandparents brought this when they came over to the mainland from Hawaii. They gave it to me as a gift when I moved out here. It’s really the only thing I had in the apartment for awhile besides my guitar. I’m not really religious at all, but I just think it looks super awesome there.”
Ahhh, thought Elly, he’s Hawaiian. And who has a religious icon just for looks?
“Tell me about your parents,” she said.
“Well, they are mostly respectable adults. They live in Honolulu. Modern bungalow, the works. My dad works with software, and my mom owns an antique shop. I love visiting them, but I don’t want to live there. I need room to roam.”
His eyes simmered at her. She felt herself flushing as their conversation flowed. The minutes flew by as they talked over the granite kitchen island that separated them. Elly loved the way his mouth moved when he talked. The moment passed too quickly.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Should I eat? thought Elly. If I don’t eat, he’ll think I’m trying to look skinny, or on a diet. If I do eat, he’ll notice I’m a fatty and squeezed into these size 16 khakis. Why I did WEAR khakis?
She sucked her stomach in and leaned into the counter.
“Well…I could eat something,” she said, trying to sound ambivalent to the very thought, even though her stomach was churning. Isaac glanced around.
“Well, if it was up to me we’d have cereal…but Tifah brought some appetizers, so let’s go ask her what they have.”
Elly was loath to go back to the pompous idiots talking about something she didn’t understand and leave the breezy kitchen where she had his full attention. Isaac ducked under the fringed curtain, looking at back at Elly. He could instantly tell that she was uncomfortable and tried to put her at ease.
“I won’t leave you out there, promise.” His eyes smiled. She followed him out.
Elly In Bloom Page 5
