Revenge of the Flower Girls

by Jennifer Ziegler

  We walked along Nugent Road toward the middle of town, keeping to the left-hand side the way Lily always taught us. Along the way, we passed the Neighbors, who live opposite Ms. Woolcott. For a long time, we thought Mom, Dad, and Lily just never bothered to learn the names of the nice older couple in the white farmhouse. Then at some point, we realized Neighbor really was their last name.

  Mr. Neighbor was in his front yard, chasing squirrels away from his bird feeder.

  “Make way for ducklings!” he called out to us as we passed his house. He always says this. He makes fun of the way we walk single file for a couple of blocks until there’s more room for us to be side by side and not stick out into the road. We don’t mind, though, since he’s nice and we always loved the picture book.

  “Good morning, Mr. Neighbor,” I said.

  “Good morning,” he said back. “I’ve got the water going. You’re welcome to run around in it.”

  He nodded toward the sprinklers in his backyard. His sprinklers are much more fun than ours. Last year, Mom exchanged the ones that spray in a circle for underground ones that just pop up and go whoosh. But Mr. Neighbor still has the circle ones. Dawn, Darby, and I like to run around in a game of keep-away from each other and the water. Quincy always hears us and joins in, which makes one more obstacle. We always end up sopping wet and covered in grass. Then Mrs. Neighbor usually comes out and gives us some of her homemade ice cream.

  Dawn, Darby, and I all think this is just about the best way to spend a summer day, so when he offered, we stopped to confer. It was getting hot. And Mom didn’t say anything about getting wet, so we could get off on a technicality. Eventually, we decided that the courthouse wouldn’t look too kindly on triplets that showed up dripping wet and grassy, and our mission was much too important, so we politely declined and continued on our way.

  Twenty minutes later, we were at the big brick Blanco County Courthouse. By then, the sun was higher and hotter, and we were so sweaty Dawn said we might as well have gotten wet from the sprinklers. We stood in the shade of the north entryway and fanned each other with a Thrifty Nickel someone had left on the steps, until our faces weren’t pink anymore and most of the sweat had dried. Then we headed through the doors to the building.

  Inside, it was real quiet, and it took us a while to find someone. Eventually we peeked into a room and saw a lady sitting at a desk. In a chair against the wall was a guard reading a newspaper. The lady glanced up at us and got the same wide-eyed, rabbity look that Ms. Caldwell had when she met us. Since Johnson City has less than two thousand residents, most of them either know us or know about us. She must not have been from around here.

  “Excuse me. Can I help you?” she said, looking at each of us in turn. People tend to do that. It’s like they can’t decide which one of us to talk to, so they glance at each of us for a little while and then repeat the process, making them look like oscillating fans.

  Dawn stepped forward and cleared her throat the way she does when she feels like she’s the boss. “Yes, you may. We are here to see Mr. Alexander Hawthorne.”

  “And … what is this regarding?”

  “We can’t tell you that,” I said.

  “What she means is” — Dawn leaned in front of me — “it’s a personal matter.”

  The lady and the security guard exchanged looks. He was grinning and she was pressing her lips together the way people do when they want to keep from laughing. “I see,” she said. “Is it a matter of life or death?”

  “Life,” Darby said. “It’s a matter of life. Two lives hang in the balance. And maybe a third, too — a lesser, armadillo-ish one.”

  Now the lady just looked confused. “One moment.” She stood and headed out of the room. A minute later, she returned with Alex.

  “These are the young ladies I was telling you about,” she said to him. “Apparently, they are having problems with an armadillo.”

  “Hey there,” he said when he saw us. He was smiling big, but his eyes were all bewildered. For some reason, everyone seemed simultaneously happy and puzzled to see us. “What are you three doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay,” Dawn said. “Everything is dreadful.”

  “Horrific,” Darby said.

  “Appalling,” I said. “And only you can stop it.”

  “Should I call for help?” Alex looked really worried. He glanced over at the security guard, but the man had disappeared behind his newspaper again.

  “No, we just need you, Alex,” Darby said.

  “You’re the only one who can help,” I said.

  “It won’t take long,” Dawn said. “I promise.”

  Alex looked over at the lady and she shrugged. “Perhaps you’d better go with them.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

  As soon as we headed down the front steps of the courthouse, Alex turned to us and said, “So what’s going on? You’ve got me all nervous.”

  “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” Dawn said.

  Alex glanced at his watch. “I can take an early lunch break. How about we head to Ever’s for a bite and you can tell me what this is all about?”

  “Great!” we said at the same time, and the four of us started down the sidewalk.

  Except I skipped instead of walked because I was so happy. Now that Alex said he would help us, I felt sure everything would be okay. And that hopeful feeling made my feet boing instead of take steps.

  Only, I shouldn’t have celebrated early. It’s like when the House of Representatives wants to pass a bill. Sometimes the right thing to do can be so obvious, but it still isn’t easy making it happen.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting at Forever’s front counter. Alex had ordered the lunch special — half a pimento cheese sandwich and a helping of homemade coleslaw — and the three of us ordered slices of pie. Dawn ordered a slice of apple pie (of course), and Delaney ordered a slice of the chocolate icebox pie (also of course). Forever’s has their pies on display, and I always order the one that is least popular because I feel sorry for it. It’s weird, I know, but that’s what I do. Today, it was rhubarb pie. It was really good, but for some reason, I couldn’t eat much. The whole time we explained our plan to Alex, my stomach kept getting squeezier and squeezier until I set down my fork and gave up altogether.

  It was the same with Alex. As we told him our idea about the marriage license, he ate more and more slowly until he finally stopped. When we were done, he sat silent for a while. Then he said, “Girls, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  He let out a long sigh. “For so many reasons. First of all, it’s unethical and highly illegal. Surely you understand that it’s against the law to willfully destroy government property, right?”

  “We just wanted you to reject their application,” Dawn said.

  “Or spill coffee on it,” I said.

  “Or accidentally knock it into the shredder,” Delaney said.

  “Also, I don’t work in that department,” Alex went on. “It would look hugely suspicious for me to go snooping.”

  “Well … we could provide a distraction,” Dawn suggested. “Delaney could get stuck in a tree again.”

  Delaney sat up straight. “Yes! I could. I’m good at screaming loud, too.”

  “But most of all, even if I could do it, I wouldn’t.” Alex looked each one of us in the eyes. “This is what your sister wants. You have to accept it.”

  “But it’s Burton!” Dawn said. “The poopiest of nincompoops!”

  Alex sighed. “Look. I get it. He’s a couple of years older, so I never got to know him that well, but I agree that he doesn’t seem to have a lot in common with Lily….” His voice trailed off and for a moment he just sat there, frowning at the remains of his coleslaw. Then he shook his head and continued. “The thing is, all that doesn’t matter. If you love your sister, you’ll support her decision. Lily is a wonderful person. She’s smart and kind and perceptive and beautiful….
She wouldn’t marry someone for no good reason. So he can’t be all bad. Right?”

  “He’s not,” I said. Dawn and Delaney immediately gave me the stink eye. “Well, it’s true. He’s not an evil villain. He’s just … not you, Alex. He doesn’t make Lily laugh.”

  “He doesn’t like dogs or flowers. And he gives lousy gifts,” Delaney grumbled.

  “His mom wants Lily to wear a toilet-seat ring!” Dawn whined. “And his favorite president is” — she glanced left and right, leaned forward, and whispered — “Franklin Pierce.”

  “But he loves Lily,” Alex said. “He sees how special she is. That means he’s pretty smart and has good taste, right?”

  Dawn and I shrugged. “I guess,” Delaney mumbled.

  “And he makes her happy. No matter how you feel about him, that’s the most important thing. Doesn’t she deserve happiness?”

  Dawn frowned down at her pie. Delaney looked over at me.

  “Yes,” I said. “She does. Lots of it.”

  Alex smiled a sad type of smile. “So you understand why I can’t do this for you, right?”

  “Yes,” we all mumbled.

  “Good.” He rose to his feet and checked the time on his cell phone. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to head back. It was good to see all of you.”

  The three of us exchanged fearful looks. Our plan had failed. We weren’t prepared for this.

  “You aren’t mad at us, are you?” I asked.

  Alex shook his head. “No way. You guys love your sister and want to protect her. That’s a good thing.” He pushed in his chair. “Okay, one last bit of trivia before I go. Ready? Tallest president?”

  “Lincoln!” we all said together.

  “Shortest president?”

  “Madison!”

  He laughed. “You guys give me faith in the future — you know that? Just … no more plotting criminal activities, okay?”

  Then he turned and walked back to the courthouse. I felt so sad watching him go. It was the same wobbly sensation I got when Lily left for college, and when Daddy moved out of the house for good. As if someone grabbed the world and shook it like a snow globe, stirring everything up.

  “Well, I’m convinced,” Dawn said.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “It’s so clear,” Dawn said.

  “What are you talking about? Nothing’s clear. Everything is wrong and it’s about to get wronger!” The skin around Delaney’s eyes was all cotton-candy pink — the way it gets when she, or any of us, is about to cry. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who felt gloomy.

  “It’s obvious that Alex is still in love with Lily,” Dawn said. “Don’t you see how soft his eyes get when he talks about her? Didn’t you notice the tone in his voice? It was so …”

  “Mournful,” Delaney said.

  “Anguished,” I said.

  Dawn tapped her finger on her chin. “Heartbroken, I’d say.”

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized those signs were unmistakable. Delaney was nodding, too. And the rosy color around her eyes had disappeared.

  “Now we really have to stop the wedding,” Dawn said. “Not just for Lily but for Alex, too. Agreed?”

  Delaney and I nodded. “Agreed.”

  The entire walk home, we tried to think of new ways to stop the wedding. Dawn was the only one who came up with a plan, but we decided that hiring someone to kidnap Burton was probably too expensive. Plus, it was most likely illegal, and we’d just promised Alex we’d stop that stuff.

  We were starting to feel panicky. It was like that feeling we get right before school starts. We always start the summer with plans to build a fort, teach Quincy circus tricks, and make a movie about Marbury v. Madison. But then August comes around and we realize all we’ve really done is watch lots of cartoons.

  The closer we got to our house, the worse we felt. The Neighbors were sitting on their front porch as we passed and again invited us to play keep-away in their sprinklers, and again we politely declined. A few steps later, Darby pointed toward our backyard and said, “Look!”

  There, sitting on the hill behind our house, was Lily. She was in her favorite spot — underneath the red oak, staring out at the hills. She particularly loves it during the sunset, but that wasn’t supposed to happen for another eight hours or so. Which could only mean …

  * * *

  Sure enough, Lily was crying. She sat cross-legged in the shade of the red oak, and a pile of wadded-up Kleenex sat in the middle of her lap. Quincy was also there, in the shade of another tree. He lay with his head on his front legs, watching Lily closely, as if he were worried about her, too.

  Darby plopped down beside Lily and wrapped an arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” Lily said, wiping her cheeks. “I’m just being silly.”

  “No, you aren’t. Why are you sad?”

  Lily reached for another Kleenex and started dabbing at her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just … I was thinking about how much I’m going to miss this place.”

  “But where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m getting married, silly. When you marry someone, you go live with them. By Labor Day, I’ll be in Chicago.”

  Dawn, Darby, and I traded looks of alarm. We’d forgotten that part. We’d been focusing so much on the wedding and how much we didn’t want it to happen, we forgot that it led to a marriage — marriage to a blockhead in a faraway place. And we had no plan to stop it, which meant it was really going to happen. We’d lose Lily and Alex!

  Who was going to play Presidential Trivia with us now? Who was going to hug us and teach us how to watch out for small-town traffic? Who was going to buy us pie and tell us to not commit felonies?

  Darby held Lily tighter and started crying. Then I started blubbering and plopped down on the other side of Lily and held on to her. Dawn, being Dawn, tried to fight it. She stood there with her mouth bunched up and her hands balled up into fists, but tears were already running down her cheeks.

  “Don’t go, Lily!” Darby said. “Don’t get married and move away!”

  “But I have to,” Lily said.

  “You don’t! Look how sad it’s making you,” I pointed out.

  Lily moved her mouth a few different ways and then finally said, “It’s complicated.”

  “Don’t say that!” Dawn said. “You never used to say things like that. Just tell us — please?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just mean that it’s hard to describe. You can be happy and excited about a new change but also sad to say good-bye to people and places you love.”

  Dawn couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out crying. And because Lily didn’t have any sides left, Dawn plunked down behind her and hugged her from the back. That got me and Darby wailing again, and I could tell by her shuddering movements that Lily had restarted, too.

  So there we all sat, sobbing and hanging on to Lily like baby possums. I heard a whiny noise and Quincy was there. He flung his big square head into Lily’s lap and whimpered along with the rest of us. Lily couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. And I started to have silly thoughts about us getting stuck like that and how then she couldn’t marry Burton and move away — because we had become a giant sister-dog-ball.

  After a while, we stopped crying and slowly pulled apart. Only Quincy stayed put. In fact, he crawled completely across Lily’s lap and took the opportunity to nap. The rest of us sat there, sniffling.

  “I’m sorry, girls,” Lily said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Everything’s all right. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “There’s so much to do for the wedding. I have to book the place and do a rush order on the invitations and pick out bridesmaids dresses and see if I can find a violinist. I’m scared I won’t have enough time to do it all.”

  Dawn made a harrumphing noise. “Why doesn’t Burton help you?”

  “He’s finishing up this paper for hi
s degree and also trying to get it published — it’s really important to him, and he has to spend as much time as possible in the library. I just can’t bother him with things like this.”

  “I’ll help you!” Dawn said.

  Darby and I snuck her looks that said Why? and Are you crazy? But she ignored us.

  “Would you? That would be so sweet!”

  Lily looked so much less stressed than she did just a few minutes before, I found myself saying, “Sure. We’ll all help.”

  “Just tell us everything you need to do to plan the wedding and we’ll see what we can help with,” Dawn said. Her eyes met mine for the tiniest of seconds. But in that instant, I understood. This wasn’t just about making Lily feel better. This was about gathering intelligence so we could stop the wedding.

  I know that makes us sound selfish and wicked and all-around bad, but that’s how much we love Lily and didn’t want to lose her. Lily, who taught us how to walk like ducklings down the road so we wouldn’t get hit by cars. Lily, who let us all cram into her tiny bed when we used to be scared of thunderstorms. Lily, who was right then scratching Quincy’s belly and comforting him, even though he kept passing gas.

  Lily. The best big sister in the world.

  So we finally had another plan. “Operation Postpone,” we called it.

  The day after our big cry fest, Lily shared with us her list of wedding tasks, and it turned out that she still hadn’t found a place to hold the wedding. We watched as she called a few places and left messages on voice mail. Then she had to drive to Austin to see about hiring a musician to play “Here Comes the Bride.” Since she would be on the road, and Mom was working, Lily asked us to answer the phone if anyone called back about a venue. We told her we would, but secretly we’d already sworn a triplet oath to prevent any booking from happening.

  The way we figured it, if Lily couldn’t find any place to hold the wedding, she’d have no choice but to delay it — which was almost as good as canceling it. That would buy us more time to talk her out of marrying Burton.