“We’re not trying to stop the wedding entirely,” I said. “We just want to delay it.”
“But why?”
I told him we thought Alex was still in love with Lily and that she was still in love with him. I told him how they stared at each other in the foyer the night before and how the air all around us got warm and sizzly as if we were inside a microwave. I told him that we figured if Lily could say “I do” to Burton with Alex sitting right there watching them, then we would know that she loved Burton and we would do our darnedest to be happy about it. And I told him that Alex decided to come and be here for her, but that he was going to be late.
“I see. So that’s the reason for the walkie-talkies and the sneaking around?” he asked.
I nodded. “We just needed everything to run late. I mean, what’s half an hour versus the rest of Lily’s life?”
Dad plunked down on the porch swing and rested his elbows on his knees. I sat down beside him. He looked lost in thought, and a little sad. Also, I noticed his hair was bent slightly on the side of his head. He really did have helmet hair — only, I wasn’t going to say so.
“Girls, girls, girls,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, more than anything in the world, I just want you three to be happy. And I want Lily to be happy.”
“I know,” I mumbled, bracing myself for the lecture.
“And you know what? I’ve been thinking about this and … I don’t think she’s happy.”
I gaped at him. “Neither do we.”
“So count me in. I’ll be Agent Baldie.” He looked over at me and smiled.
“Wha-a-a?” It took a little while for my mind to put everything in order: We weren’t in trouble with Daddy — we were in cahoots with him! He actually wanted to help.
“Look. Here comes the preacher now,” Daddy said, getting to his feet. Reverend Hoffmeyer was walking back up the driveway. “Everything all right, Reverend? I heard there was a bit of a ruckus.”
“Seems to be,” the reverend replied. “The girls just got a little overexcited. They’re going to take a few more moments to calm down and then go back inside to get dressed.”
“That’s good to hear. Thank you for speaking with them.”
“My pleasure, Phil. So how are you doing on this blessed day?”
“Not too good, Reverend. Not too good. In fact” — Daddy put his arm on the reverend’s back and steered him right off the porch — “do you think you and I might take a walk and discuss some things?”
Reverend Hoffmeyer looked somewhat longingly at the front door. “Er … sure. That would be fine.”
“Good. I appreciate it.”
The two of them headed down the walkway, past the Vespa, and past the green Jeep that Mavis and Felicia were sitting in. Daddy looked over his shoulder at me and winked. Then I heard him say, “I think it started when I was about eight years old….”
I pulled out the walkie-talkie and pressed the TALK button. “Second-born, do you read? You aren’t going to believe this….”
When Dawn radioed in to tell me about Dad, I at first thought the walkie-talkie was broken.
“Something’s up with this thing,” I said to her, banging on the receiver a couple of times. “It sounded like you said Dad was helping us.”
“He is!” came Dawn’s crackly voice. Then I looked out the dining room window and saw Dad meandering around our oak trees with Reverend Hoffmeyer, talking his ear off. It felt like a dream had come to life — like finding a dragon or bumping into Santa Claus.
Things seemed to be going well. Dawn and Delaney had been successful with their missions, but the wedding was still T minus seventeen minutes and we were out of plans. I knew from Dawn that Reverend Hoffmeyer had talked with Felicia and Mavis, and that they’d eventually come back inside. Dad can talk a blue streak — it’s where Delaney gets it — but even he was bound to wear out after a while. I still wasn’t sure if all the stuff we’d set in motion would delay the ceremony long enough for Alex to arrive in time. I figured I should do something — but what? There’s a reason why I was appointed the lookout while my sisters delayed people. I just freeze up when it comes to talking to someone other than family or close friends.
Most of the normal wedding plans were falling into place. Burton and Mrs. Caldwell showed up. I have to say, Burton looked nice — a lot less like a long-nosed burrowing mammal than I’ve ever seen him. He and his mom greeted the guests, who were already starting to show up. Soon Mom joined them. And so did Ms. Woolcott, for some reason.
I stood against the wall between the living room and dining room, watching everything while feeling shy and helpless. The tables of food and fake greenery looked pretty, as did the rows of white wooden folding chairs in the living room. The violinist wasn’t there yet, but someone had set the music player to classical, and soft piano music filled the air. It was beginning to look like a real wedding was going to happen there — and soon.
“Hey there, kiddo.” Aunt Jane walked up beside me. She looked so … un-Aunt-Jane-like in her blue dress.
“Hey,” I said. “How’s Lily?”
Aunt Jane stared down the hall toward Lily’s room. “Hard to say. She’s very pale, and hasn’t been talking much. I keep telling her she’s rushing into things, so she’s probably mad at me.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, patting her arm. “Lily never stays mad for long.”
“Any sign of Alex?” Aunt Jane glanced around the room.
“No,” I said, making the word long and whiny.
“He’ll come.”
“But he might not get here in time. Or he might not come at all! He said he didn’t think he could watch Lily marry someone else.”
“He’ll come.”
“But how do you know?” My voice was all whimpery, the way Quincy’s sometimes gets.
“That boy loves her,” she said. “He’ll be here for her. You’ll see.” Aunt Jane lifted a tiny blob of frosting off the wedding cake with her index finger and plopped it into her mouth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go help your mother before she feels outnumbered by Caldwells.”
She gave me a pat on the back and then headed over to greet the guests with Mom and the others. People were starting to trickle into the room, and there was a gentle hum of conversation in the background.
It was eleven minutes to six, and I needed some way to stop guests from showing up — some sort of barrier between the house and the rest of the world. If only I could hit a switch and activate a force field that would prevent people from coming inside.
Suddenly, an idea hit me. I wasn’t sure if it was a good one or not, but I really didn’t have time to mull it over. I needed to be more action-oriented, like Dawn.
I went straight to the mud room, to the little electronic box by the back door — the one that controlled our new automatic sprinklers. I figured if I could program it to start spraying, that would keep guests far away. It was a little crazy, but it was also just right. After all, no one would want to get soaking wet in their nice clothes.
Only … the control panel wasn’t all that easy to understand. There was a dial and some arrow buttons that pointed all different directions, and two rectangular keys that had no obvious purpose. I stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of it, and finally decided to press random buttons and see what happened.
“Darby?”
It was Mom. I must have been so focused on the control box that I hadn’t seen her come in.
I figured I’d play it cool. “H-hi, Mom. You look beautiful.” That part, at least, was true. She was wearing a simple blue dress, like Aunt Jane, except it was in a different shade of blue and was cut in a different style. “So how are you doing?” I folded my arms and leaned against the wall, trying to appear casual — as if I hung around in the corner of the utility room all the time.
“What are you doing?” Mom’s gaze was like glue. I couldn’t glance away, even though I wanted to real bad.
I squirmed a bit, tr
ying to think of some reason other than the truth that would have me fiddling with the sprinkler system, but I couldn’t come up with anything. (Not that it mattered, since I’m the lousiest liar in all of Texas.)
“Don’t tell me,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest. “You and your sisters are trying to delay the wedding.”
There wasn’t anything I could argue with in that statement, and anyway, she said not to tell her, so all I could do was hang my head guiltily. “Sorry,” I said.
Mom let out a long sigh. “You aren’t doing it right.”
“Huh?”
“Reprogramming the sprinklers,” she said. “Here. Let me.” Mom edged past me and started hitting a couple of buttons on the control pad. “You girls never did like this new system, did you? You much preferred those old sprinklers that I had to drag around the yard.” She turned the dial, pressed another button, and said, “There. All set.”
Whoosh! I could hear the rushing sound through the pipes of our old house. Judging by the shouts of surprise emanating from the living room, the jets of water were spraying high in the front yard.
I stared at Mom. “But … why?” were the only words I could manage.
“You girls have a point. Lily needs more time to figure out if she’s doing the right thing. If this helps her do that, then I’m all for it.”
“Wow,” I mumbled. First Dad and now Mom? If there was ever a day to search for buried treasure and four-leaf clovers, it was this one.
“But,” she went on, her expression becoming stern, “this is the only thing I can do for you — understand? In a few minutes, I’m going to have to play the part of the shocked, embarrassed hostess and come right back to turn them off. I can’t let Quincy out of his kennel, or get him riled up, or show him the pile of brush and flower petals we swept up after you crushed the bush. Can you girls take it from here?”
“Yes!” I said, nodding briskly. “I know exactly what to do!”
“Then go do it.”
I looked at Mom for half a second longer, marveling at her. Sure, she had on her stern face, but her eyes held the same worry I could see in Dawn and Delaney’s eyes — worry about Lily. “Thanks, Mom,” I said, hugging her around the waist. Then I slipped out the back door.
The experts fixed it so that the water wouldn’t spurt onto the house, but a fine spray still reached me, pushed by the breeze. It felt fantastic.
I ducked to stay out of sight of the bedroom windows and made my way to the side porch, where Quincy was being kept in his kennel for the duration of the wedding. As soon as he saw me, he let out a whimper and wagged his tail noisily against the side of the cage.
I undid the latch on the door. “Come on, Quincy,” I whispered. “Let’s play….”
Bree and I emerged from Mom’s bedroom to see total pandemonium breaking out.
Apparently, Felicia and Mavis had finally gotten dressed, but the continued knocks and groans coming from Mom’s bathroom made them uneasy. They decided to go and do their makeup in the air-conditioned safety of Felicia’s car, but, sadly, they hit the edge of the front yard at the exact moment the sprinklers went off. They were now standing in the living room, crying about their hair and dresses and dripping water all over the place.
Dad and the preacher also got soaked, as did a few other unlucky guests — including the Neighbors. Mr. Neighbor joked, “I see why you like our sprinklers better.”
Meanwhile, many other guests were trapped on the far side of the property, unable to get near the house. We later found out that the violinist had pulled into our drive, seen everyone racing about and shrieking, and ended up putting her car in reverse and heading back the way she’d come.
Quincy, our loyal golden Labrador, was at that point nothing even close to golden. He’d rolled in so much mud, he’d turned a dark, gooey brown. He’s always happy to be wet and filthy, and he really enjoyed seeing everyone running around and yelling. Figuring they wanted to play, he romped about with them, tripping a couple of folks and getting muddy paw prints on some more. Then he followed someone inside the house and was galloping around the living room, shaking bits of mud everywhere. Apparently, he’d rolled in flowers, too, because Burton was sneezing like crazy.
The fired-but-now-rehired ring bearer was still practicing in the dining room under the watchful eye of Mrs. Caldwell. Nearby, Ms. Woolcott had sneaked one of the veggie sliders off of the tray, but before she could eat it, Quincy came bounding over to her and licked the ticklish part of her leg. Ms. Woolcott screamed and dropped the slider, which bounced in front of the ring bearer.
And that’s when I finally understood how they got that name.
The rehired ring bearer apparently didn’t see the slider, and when his foot hit it, he skated across the floor several inches and then fell onto his rear end. As he tried to break the fall, he threw back his arms, and the pillow he’d been holding flew up into the air — along with the toilet-shaped wedding ring, which landed with a ploop! inside the mounds of icing on top of the cake.
Mrs. Caldwell shrieked, “That’s a family heirloom!” Pushing Ms. Woolcott out of the way, she dove forward and started digging through the cake with her hands.
“Well, I never!” Ms. Woolcott exclaimed. She glanced down at her skirt, which was spattered with mud and food. Then she marched toward the front door, stopping beside me to say, “I’m going home to change. I’ll be expecting someone” — she raised her voice a little and looked back at Mrs. Caldwell, who was up to her elbows in cake — “to pay for my dry cleaning bill.” As she stalked out of the house, we saw a tiny dollop of frosting fly into her hairdo.
“Whoa,” Bree exclaimed.
“Yeah. Whoa,” I echoed. For a while, we just stood there in awe of the destruction around us.
Eventually, Mom came in to apologize for the sprinklers, saying there had been a programming error and that it was all taken care of. She ordered Dawn to take Quincy back to his kennel, told Darby to fetch some rags for the floor, and then she went to help Mrs. Caldwell dig out the ring from the cake. Somehow in all of that, she overlooked me and Bree.
Everyone was bustling about, except the two of us. Suddenly, Bree leaned down and whispered, “Hey, look. It’s the hunk.”
Alex was walking through the door. He scanned the devastation around him and carefully made his way past the piles of wet rags, sobbing bridesmaids, flying bits of frosting, sneezing grooms, and Reverend Hoffmeyer squeezing water out of his robe.
“Excuse me,” I said to Bree. I made my way to a corner and pulled out my walkie-talkie. “Agent Firstborn and Second-born, do you read? Third-born here. I repeat, do you read me?”
“Firstborn here,” Dawn said.
“Second-born here” came Darby’s voice.
“What are your positions?” I said into the speaker.
“I’m on the porch with Quincy,” Dawn replied.
“In the linen closet,” said Darby.
“Good. Sweetheart is in the house,” I said. “Repeat: Sweetheart is in the house. Operation successful.”
I heard Darby let out a whoop.
“Well, thank the stars,” Dawn said.
It was such a relief to know we had pulled off Operation Postpone 2.0. Now everything was up to Lily and Alex. The chaos had been worth it.
I bounced over to where Alex was standing in the dining room. “Alex! Alex! Alex!” I sang out. “You’re here!”
He was not smiling. “This is y’all’s doing, isn’t it?” he said. “What have you three been up to?”
I hunched my shoulders. “We just needed to buy some time. We knew you were going to be late, and we didn’t want the wedding to happen without you.”
Alex sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “You know, I love that you’re each so smart, but you multiply it by three and you get smart at epic levels.” He motioned around the room. “This kind of epic.”
I glanced around. It was kind of mind-blowing to see all we had accomplished.
&n
bsp; “You girls need to be careful that you use your powers for good, especially if you want to become leaders of this nation. You know what they say about heads of state: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ ”
“Actually, I think that’s from Spider-Man,” I said.
He didn’t laugh.
“Don’t be mad, Alex,” I said. “We aren’t going to let anything else go wrong, I promise. Now that you’re here, we can have the wedding.”
“No, we can’t,” said a voice from behind me.
I turned around and saw Aunt Jane standing there, looking worried.
“I can’t find Lily,” she said. “I’ve searched everywhere, but she seems to have disappeared.”
“Are you girls behind this?” Alex asked me.
I shook my head. “No. I swear.”
“Well, I better tell your mother and father.” Aunt Jane started for the living room.
“Wait,” I said and grabbed her arm. “Don’t tell them yet. Please?”
“Delaney, do you know where Lily might be?” Aunt Jane asked.
I started to say something and then got quiet.
Alex narrowed his eyes at me. “You do know, don’t you?”
I bit my lip, suddenly overtaken by an awful thought: What if we’d been wrong? All this time, we were trying to stop the wedding because we knew Burton was wrong for Lily. But was Alex right for her? Dawn, Darby, and I loved him — but did that mean they belonged together? The thought jarred me like … well, like several powerful jets of water spraying up from the ground all at once.
For some reason, I just couldn’t tell him. We’d done everything up to that point, and it was time for him to do something — to prove he was worthy of our sister.
“I know where she is,” I said, “but I’m not saying.”
Alex looked baffled. “Why not?”
“Because you should know where she is — if you really know her and love her, that is.”
Alex peered closely at me again, but this time, his features relaxed. He seemed to understand what I meant.
Revenge of the Flower Girls Page 12
