Part 19 (1/2)
”Last night? I dunno. Home, I guess. We worked late, finis.h.i.+ng up at Ryan's house. Why?”
”I did the flowers for a wedding-and you weren't there. I thought you went to every wedding in Savannah.”
”Who got married?”
”Emily Braswell and Rob Mabry.”
He shook his head. ”Never heard of 'em. They must be new in town.”
”As a matter of fact, her father was just transferred here last year by the Army Corps of Engineers. And the groom is from Macon.”
”Then that explains it. Nice wedding?”
Cara leaned over and picked a dead frond from a fern, crumbling the browning leaf between her fingertips. ”It was okay. Bert and I give them about a fifty-fifty chance.”
”Of what?”
”Surviving.” She shrugged, and one of the skinny straps of her tank top slipped off her shoulder. She left it there, and it distracted him for a moment, affording him a tantalizing glimpse of the pale skin of her upper breast.
He looked away, and then back, and by then, she'd adjusted it. Too bad. It was a nice view. Nicer even than all these cool green and white flowers. Now, what had he been about to say? Oh yeah.
”You rate their marriage chances? That seems pretty cynical.”
”You see as many couples as I do, work with as many crazy brides and overbearing moms as me, you'd be cynical too,” she said calmly. ”I've only been in business for myself two and a half years here, and I can't tell you how many couples don't even make it to their first anniversary.”
Poppy stirred, getting to her feet and staring intently at the brick wall running along the back of the courtyard. A squirrel paused there. Shaz saw the squirrel, too, and both the dogs went bounding toward their intended quarry. Instead of scampering away, though, the squirrel held its ground, chattering angrily at the two dogs four feet below, who were now balancing on their hind legs, whimpering and pawing ineffectively at the brick.
”Shaz!” Jack called. ”Down!” The dog ignored him.
”Poppy! Leave that squirrel alone,” Cara added. ”I swear, it's the same squirrel. He does this every day, just to torment poor Poppy.”
After a moment, the squirrel, bored with the contest, took off again, and the dogs, defeated, ambled over to the water bowl, where they took turns drinking, until the empty water bowl clanged loudly against the brick walkway.
”Just out of curiosity, why do you refer to the squirrel as a he? Did you see something I didn't see?”
”Oh, for Pete's sake,” Cara said crossly. ”Isn't it obvious? I'm a man-hater. That's why I think all marriages will inevitably fail, and why all annoying squirrels must be male.”
Jack laughed despite himself. ”What was wrong with yesterday's couple? Why are they doomed?”
”For one thing, the groom was unbelievably domineering. He had to have a say in every detail. He even picked out Emily's gown.”
”That's unusual?”
She stared at him as though he'd grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead.
”Are you kidding? Yes, it's unusual. There's an old superst.i.tion that says it's bad luck for a groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding.”
”Or?”
”Or his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es will turn black and fall off. I don't know, Jack. I just know this guy was controlling and domineering, and it doesn't bode well for the marriage.”
”I see. Anything else? So, he's the only one at fault?”
”No, of course not. After all, Emily allows him to boss her around about all this stuff. When she gets fed up, she sulks and then cries. Buckets and buckets of tears.”
”Oooh.” Jack grimaced. ”I hate a crier.”
”Me too!” she exclaimed. ”But it's an occupational hazard with my job. Now that I think of it, I've only done flowers for one wedding that that didn't involve at least one tearfest or temper tantrum.”
”And that was?”
”Last Friday night's wedding, as a matter of fact. Maya and Jared.”
He nodded. ”I don't know Jared that well. He only worked for us a year or so. But Maya's always been pretty chill. So, how did you guys rate their chances?”
”Mmm. Bert and Maya have been best friends, forever. He gives them a hundred percent. Says he's positive they'll make it.”
Jack studied her face. ”But you're not so sure.”
”s.h.i.+t happens. People change. What seems like a sure bet, suddenly turns into a sucker bet.”
”Is that what happened to you?”
Cara didn't answer. She got up, turned on the hose, and refilled the water bowl. On the way back to the table, she paused to right a flowerpot one of the dogs had upended.
”Cara?” He said it gently.
25.
Her gla.s.s was nearly empty. She stared down into it, wondering if she should make an excuse, get up, offer a refill, hope he'd forget the topic while she was away. Somehow, she doubted it. She hadn't known Jack Finnerty long, but she could tell he was very focused when he wanted to be.
”Why do you want to know about my marriage?” she asked finally.
He stared, apparently taken aback. ”Is it still painful to talk about?”
”It's not my favorite topic, no. But I'm over him, as I told you before.”
”Yes. You did say that.” He waited.
Cara sighed. ”He cheated on me, okay? He had a little girlfriend, and they'd have their twosomes every other week, at a motel out by the airport, when he was supposed to be at a sales meeting in Atlanta. I was too dumb to realize what was going on. When I found out, I ended it. I moved out, stayed a while with Bert, then rented this apartment, upstairs over the shop.”
”And that was it? No counseling, no attempt at a reconciliation?”
”Now you sound like Leo,” she said. ”Why would I want a reconciliation? Or need counseling? He was quite clearly in love with somebody else. No need to prolong the inevitable.”
Did she sound bitter? she wondered. Maybe that was because she was bitter.