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They cower as she approaches, sensing they’re in trouble.
“You’re damn lucky there’s a blizzard coming, or I’d lock you out of this shed until you learn some manners.”
Despite the horror of the destruction, I can’t help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Rhia, with her hands on her hips, continues her tirade against the guilty huskies.
“Look at this mess! You’ve turned my masterpiece into a confetti party. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find flowers in the middle of an Alaskan winter? No, of course, you don’t.”
The huskies exchange guilty glances, as if they understand every word of Rhia’s scolding.
“And Ella’s bouquet! It was supposed to be a work of art, a symbol of love and beauty. Now it’s a symbol of the cycle of life and death.”
As Rhia continues her rant, I marvel at her ability to turn even the most frustrating situations into comedy. The dogs, sensing the shift in tone, sit down with an air of contrition, as if actually contemplating the consequences of their actions.
“And the altar arrangement! You’ve decimated my vision of winter wonderland romance. It’s like you have a vendetta against elegance and good taste. Maybe you’re secret agents of chaos sent to test my patience at an extremely important moment in my life!”
I catch Rhia’s eye and burst into laughter. I love this woman!
“Well, we’re not making lemonade out of these lemons,” Claudette says, looking down at the tattered flowers. “I don’t think anything can be salvaged.”
Rhia lets out a huff and taps her chin with her index finger. “Not quite. We’ll collect the petals and use them on the carpet where the altar sits.”
“They’d look better on the white snow… more contrast. It’d be like sprinkling a dose of romance,” Claudette suggests. Glancing at me, she adds, “Trust me, darling. It’ll be beautiful.”
Lex stands to the side, observing the scene. “I’m sorry this happened, Ella. But if anybody can make it right, it’s your best friend.”
I nod, glancing over to Rhia, who’s already collecting petals in a bucket she found in the corner. Her pensive expression is a sure sign she’s working on a solution to the bouquet disaster in her head.
“What happened here?” Tiero’s voice booms from behind.
His arms wrap around my waist, drawing me closer to his body.
“And where is your beanie?” he asks, almost in the same breath.
Yeah, I knew that question was coming. I ignore it.
“The dogs were disappointed that only three of them will pull the sled and took it out on the bouquets,” I joke.
“Merda,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry, cuore mio. I’m not sure we can get more flowers. Even if we could find a shop that’s open, with the blizzard coming, we won’t be able to fly them here in time.”
I turn in his arms and nestle my head beneath his chin.
God, I love this man! The way he immediately tries to think of a solution to any issue, especially if they have to do with our wedding, is just the sweetest.
“It’s fine. They were just flowers. All we need is you and me, right?” I repeat his words from a few days ago.
His eyes twinkle and shine with so much love. “It’s all we’ll ever need.”
He kisses me then, but before we can get lost in each other, Claudette chimes in.
“This wedding has a winter wonderland theme. We could create a bouquet out of pine twigs and pinecones. We might even find some lingonberries for some color. It’ll be unique and fitting for the setting.”
“Lingonberries?” I repeat, glancing over at her while still holding on to Tiero’s shoulders.
“Yeah, they’re red and small. You’ve seen them on one of our walks. There are a few bushes around here.”
“Are they poisonous?”
“No, not at all. You can eat them. They’re a little tart, but I saw Barb using them in her jams.”
