Jill Churchill: The Accidental Florist

She hadn't even told Shelley about this. Shelley had been out and about shopping while Jack was there. She couldn't wait to tell her about it.

When the class was over, they went to their favorite

restaurant; they were early enough to get a booth where nobody could hear them talking.

Jane told Shelley about the house extension and Shelley said, "That's going to be a huge, expensive, messy project."

"But worth it, Shelley. Mel has a whole extra bedroom in his apartment with copies of his files, a computer, printer, two phone lines. He can't fit that in that extra room upstairs. He's going to move into my house and he deserves to be accommodated with all he needs."

"I see that. But won't it cost the earth?"

"So what? My pharmacy money is increasing every year as it expands."

"Speaking of the business, have you told Thelma that you're getting married?"

"Yes, and she chewed me out."

"How dare she!"

"Because she's old and nasty. She resents me for getting Steve's share of the profits forever, which will be passed on to my children when I'm gone. That's what is in his will."

Shelley asked, "Have you ever had their bookkeeping audited?"

Jane stared at her best friend. "No, I haven't. But I probably should. It would be like her to cheat me."

Jane thought for a minute or two and said, "But Steve's brother Ted is in charge of the finances. I don't think Ted would allow it. If she tried to fudge, he'd stop her because it might get him in legal trouble."

Shelley nodded approval. "Back to your extra room, how far along is this plan?"

"Uncle Jim added a room to his house and recommended an architect. A guy we're supposed to call Jack. He's already working on it. In fact, he insisted on visiting Mel's apartment to measure how much space he has there, so he could give him just as much at my house. He's an interesting old guy. Measured like mad. Went out in the backyard to see where the phone lines come in, checked out that there isn't any basement under where the new room will be."

"Meantime, you want to shop?"

"For what?"

"The bride outfit for Mel's mother Addie's wedding."

"Why not? I've thought about this a little. Mel wants me to wear that emerald suit that he likes so much in the real wedding before the showy one that Addie is trying to take over."

"What do you want? Ivory instead of white?"

"No. It's too close to white and would look merely dingy with the groom and best man in tuxes. I'm sure Addie is going to insist on this."

"Okay, let's go shopping again."

"We're starting at a place that supplies tuxes."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know if they have tuxes in a charcoal gray."

"You want to look like the groom and his best man?" "No, I want to wear a brilliant red blouse and a classy

matching red hat, and Mel and whoever he chooses to stand up for him can wear ties and cummerbunds to match my hat and blouse. We've already struck out on pink and taupe."

"You're not old enough to wear a red hat," Shelley said firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because you're not fifty years old yet."

"Who made that rule?" Jane asked. "You?"

"The Red Hats Society. I think that's what they're called."

Jane sniffed and said, "You made that up. Admit it."

"No, I didn't. You can look it up on the Internet. The head of it is in her eighties I've been told. The local chapters `Lunch," Shelley said, with verbal quotes around it. "Then there are big conventions that any member in good standing can attend."

"Beware! I'm going to look this group up on the Internet." "Go ahead. By the way, is this color thing one of the rules you set up for Mel's mother?"

"Not really. But I did say she can't choose flocks of bridesmaids and groomsmen. By the time she realizes this, if we find what I want and make a down payment on the men's tuxes, it will be a fait accompli."

Jane called around and found a tux rental place that had the charcoal-colored tuxes and got a fabric sample. "I can't shop for the dress today, Shelley. I need to let Willard out in the yard. He hasn't been out since seven this morning."

Jane went home and she found Willard, her big old dog sitting by the back door, which he'd almost scratched clear through over the years. Instead of running outside barking as he'd usually done, he walked slowly into the backyard. And as he raised one leg to pee, he fell over.

Jane ran to him, her heart racing. He was lying on his side, his eyes open, and a little blood oozing out of his mouth. Jane ran back to the house and called Todd.

"Todd, I need help quickly. It's Willard. Get that old quilt he likes and put it in the back of the Jeep. We need to get him to the vet."

Todd had instead put Willard's old dog bed in the back of the Jeep and they both had to carry the heavy dog to the car. Jane drove almost as fast as Shelley did. And two of the girls at the front desk helped them carry Willard inside. Dr. Roberts was waiting and they laid the dog on the examining table. The doctor got out his stethoscope and put it on Willard's chest. "How did this happen?" he asked Jane.

She told him.

"He was probably dead before he hit the ground. A merciful sudden death. He didn't feel anything. You know he had an enlarged heart for the last several years."

"Can we take him home and bury him in the yard?" Todd asked.

"There's probably some health code that forbids this," the doctor said. "How about this: we'll cremate him and put his ashes in a little enclosed box? Then you can get one of those kits for making concrete stepping-stones to

write on. You can write his name on it and the date of his birth and death."

"You know his date of birth?" Jane asked through her tears.

"Of course. Remember you adopted him here. Willard's mother was a car chaser and was killed when her two puppies were ten weeks old. They were brought here so they could be adopted. It's all in my file. I'll write down the date. You subtract ten weeks. Todd and Ms. Jeffry, he was loved by the whole family. He had a good long happy life. Keep that in mind."

He shook Todd's hand and held it with both of his. "He was a good dog. I know you'll miss him."

They left behind the dog bed and were both crying on the way home. To Jane's knowledge Todd hadn't cried since he was eight when Thelma's husband died and they had attended his funeral.

As the doctor had suggested they stopped by a hobby store and bought the kit for the stepping-stone. Jane thought that making the stone now might ease Todd's grief.

Janie had suspected for the last few weeks that Willard wouldn't be with them for much longer. He'd been sleeping too much, not eating his food as fast. And not running around the yard barking at imaginary predators on his turf. She'd soon lose her old cats as well. They were nearly as old as Willard.

She wondered if the cats would miss Willard as much as his people would. Probably so.

Chapter

SEVEN

W

en Jane got back from the vet, she had a blinking essage from the architect on her phone. "Jane, this is Jack. I forgot to tell you something. When we get approval for this project, we'll have to take part of your south fence out to get the equipment into your backyard. I noticed that you have a dog. So take it outside on a leash when we're ready."

She didn't have the heart to call back and say she no longer had the old dog. Even though she was curious about when the pouring of the foundation would start. She'd ask him later.

Nor was she calm enough yet to tell Katie and Mike. She did call Shelley, who sympathized in the best way. "That's the thing about well-loved pets. We always out‑

live them. 1 suppose the worst scenario is that one would outlive us and have to go to strangers."

"Thanks, Shelley. You're right. I'm never getting a dog again. It's too hard to lose one. The same with cats. Well, not exactly. They don't really need you to be home all the time. Leave lots of kitty litter and food and water and go away for a weekend and they're mildly happy when you get home. Dogs aren't like that. They love their people and are sad when they're left alone, or — God forbid — put in a kennel."