Lenka's song played softly in my sound system as I focused entirely on my flower arrangement. It was another huge funeral spray, necessitated by the large number of bodies finally being released. Churches were overbooked with funerals taking place, which kept me incredibly busy.
The arrangement was color-themed in deep burgundy, bright white, and green, and it was the largest size, with budget no object, allowing for considerable leeway. Our little enterprise was working just fine.
Everyone was working so hard that there was no time to think about vacation or any kind of personal fuck holiday, not even for Mariella, as she had to really pull her weight with our pack. I had also realized that we were truly a pack and that others would not falter if they did their part; I no longer needed to do everything myself.
Not all the men were as compliant. For example, Wulfe, along with numbers two, four, five, and ten, would linger near me, doing chores that kept them close. I was no longer angry, merely ensuring everyone contributed, so it wouldn't be solely me doing all the hard work while others had fun.
Right now, Wulfe, number one, Mariella, five, and eight were with me in the flower room to study and help out. They had accomplished a great deal quickly, so they had some free time. Since Damon was a control freak, he found it difficult to accept me handling paperwork, so he stopped by my table.
He took my work list and began calculating it, while Mariella cleaned stems for me. Meanwhile, numbers four, five, and eight arranged my flowers and checked on what was needed in the shop. The girls were managing the shop a few days a week or fulfilling orders.
Mariella, having finished with the scabiosa, hosta, and hydrangea, asked me, "What's next?"
I replied, "Those five bundles of carnations, two bunches of white lilies, and those green mums."
She simply nodded and began cleaning, placing stems into buckets. Meanwhile, Wulfe was ensuring my vases weren't overloaded, and he, along with Number One, was pricing them, as I hadn't really considered what to ask for them, nor had I told Charles anything.
The apprentices were truly learning; they received their lesson and hopefully absorbed it. They didn't attempt to offer any excuses, recognizing that there were none to be made. My own plate was quite full.
Despite our little lesson, there was a ton of work for me, as well as for everyone else. I had to create as many flower arrangements as possible daily, with a few extras, of course. I also spent time with the kids and babies, delegating food preparation to others since I was already incredibly busy with these chores.
This was family life, and once we could get our chores back on track, perhaps things would become a bit easier for all of us. At least the "fuckers" had learned their lesson about what happens when they forget about the family and their chores to spend time in bed.
I was partially the pack leader; well, Adam was, although nominally Damon and Charles held the titles. However, I was primarily the one directing things, ensuring that everything necessary was accomplished. This didn't lessen my stress at all; on the contrary, it almost amplified it.
Once again, I felt that it was all up to me to make things happen around here. Despite my efforts to ensure I wasn't the only one carrying the load, that feeling was slowly growing stronger and more insistent.
As I was arranging the greenery for the funeral spray, Number One walked by and remarked, "Quite an explosion of greens. Wouldn't less be more?"
"This is just the base, the skeleton of the spray," I replied. "There will be many flowers, but I always put the greens in first, as it works better this way."
He hummed in response, then sat down to watch as I added a type of grass, creating a bit of airiness. Mariella was still cleaning. She approved of the arrangement, and Wulfe, too, came over to observe, which was fine with me.
Next, I began placing about forty bright white roses with moderately long stems. Damon, meanwhile, reached over and picked up the order slip from my desk, reading through it. Mariella had prepped my roses, so I just needed to insert them.
I also had dark burgundy scabiosa, a large-flowering variety, along with Green Bells of Ireland and some green carnations. However, I was aiming to add only one type of flower at a time.
Of course, as this was a traditional arrangement, I had also set aside ten bright white, fragrant funeral lilies, ready to be added. I also had dark red roses, as I was trying to maintain a balance of colors. As I mentioned, creating a funeral spray involves many small details, and I wasn't always in the mood to teach.
Since Number One was hovering nearby, I considered his presence. Well, if he was so eager, I thought, I'll show him that we can move forward.
Casually, in a pondering tone, I said, "You know, you can be quite the Captain Jack sometimes, but it might be wise for us to take this step by step, as I don't want to get hurt. Even if we go together, surely you realize that all good things must eventually end. This isn't the summer of '69, or '74-'75. Don't cry, even if it feels like a train to nowhere. Surely you'll want to exclaim 'Mamma Mia' to me more than once, even if it's all about us."
I took a breath before continuing, as I was on a roll to make it 1-0 for my husband.
Therefore, I kept my voice casual and said, "Damon, you can be quite impressive, like Rasputin. Know that I'll be there for you, even if it's bitterblue. But as you hold me for a while, taking my kisses and tears, know that our eternal flame will never go out. You and I, we can boldly say 'Viva forever,' as we are meant to be. As I gaze into your angel eyes, I sometimes feel that things will never be the same, now that I am Mama, and our wild world has been put on hold. However, I will never even think of losing my religion over you; no runaway train nor country roads will take me home, as I have a home with you. It is just a physical fascination, as much as you being vulnerable in front of me, or perhaps it is our small talk that relights my fire."
Damon's expression was neutral, but his jaw flexed, and Mariella giggled.
She said, "Oh, let me count. Hmm, 30 is pretty impressive, Mimi, you really outdid yourself."
Her voice was rather smug, as she too liked it when Damon was won. Damon remained silent. He then took the next paper, which was actually one of those culvert papers.
He furrowed his brows as he read it and drawled, "Am I understanding this correctly? This company will not do anything until that bog is drained?"
I nodded and replied, "It's logical, as it affects what kind of road you are building there. So, as far as I can see, we need to get those culverts clear, the bog emptied, and then those companies can change those pipes and repair the road. We will then assess the situation once the bog is cleared to see if more pipes need replacing or if fewer will suffice, especially if we can get that bog under control."
Damon remained silent, taking the papers for himself.
"Well, that is not your problem," he declared. "We men will deal with this. Now, my lady, you should focus on breaking the habit that's overtaking everything. No one is leaving on a jet plane, and soon, my love, it will be time to have a good time. Remember Auld Lang Syne. Do you know that you can't live in your ivory tower while I am hopelessly devoted to you and our kids? I don't dance unless you are with me, and someday we will go to the Hollywood Hills, just the two of us, where you get to be a woman in love, and we'll make memories."
He was clearly eager to win, and I suppose I had challenged him more than a little. He continued, his voice soft and gentle, his gaze intense. "This is coming straight from the heart. You know everything I do, I do it for you, or at least I try. It will be heaven once we are on the dance floor, swaying to the beat of this waltz, and I get to give you a bed of roses. My life's purpose is to make you happy. Who knew that summer wine could taste so perfect? You truly are my ladybird, as you sent me an angel. I will be your Jimmy Dean once more. It will be amazing grace to see you smiling. But in our life, knowing you, knowing me, nothing is certain, as much as I wish it would be. One day we will go west, just the two of us, and it will be the Summer of Love, and no one will need to ask what is love. "
His voice became almost overly sweet as he continued to list song titles, winning over my little plot. "You, my love, are my Angel in Blue Jeans, my salvation, and my kryptonite. Someday we will go to Mombasa, like Kids in America, as everything will be new and fresh to us. Our love is not shot in the dark, and I won't sail away. We can live in the shadows, my Maria Magdalena, as heaven is a place on earth."
He raised an eyebrow, continuing to rifle through my papers, as if to see if there was anything else for him to snatch.
I didn't even bother to count, as he had truly outdone himself and was smug as hell. Still, I focused on my funeral spray, arranging the flowers. Of course, my smug husband, along with Wulfe and Mariella, came to observe my technique. I just hoped there wouldn't be too much backseat driving while I concentrated on this arrangement.
Soon, Wulfe suggested, "Why don't you use ivy here? It would give a lot of volume and some movement."
He pointed to another end of my work.
I replied, "Well, maybe if you read the work order, you'd find the client is allergic to ivy and doesn't want it. They also don't want many hanging plants; instead, they want broadleaf types that will hold themselves upright, like hostas or palms. And as you can see, not many grasses are desired either."
He took the work order and read it, noting that I had already listed my own ideas for plants. Soon, Damon also took it, learning the ins and outs of making funeral sprays. If they wanted to do something, I actually had a few ideas for them.
"Fine, you want to create? Sure, Wulfe, you first," I said.
I leafed through my work orders, finding what I was looking for. I had already listed my plant ideas, types, and quantities in every order. I handed Wulfe the work order for a heart-shaped arrangement that would use only short flowers and roses. It was ordered for a baby's naming party and church, and since it was for a girl, the client wished for pinks, reds, and lilacs.
I had already cut the floral foam and placed it in a container, but it would need to rehydrate before he could start. I walked to my cooler and lifted three large plastic boxes from the upper shelf; there were my short-stemmed roses and other flowers like gypsophila, already kept moist. Thus, he had his materials. I directed him to an additional table to work.
Next up was Damon. For him, I walked to my cooler again, grabbed three buckets of prepped flowers, and carried them in front of him. I placed them on the floor and handed him his work order. It was for a tall, wide arrangement meant to celebrate a couple's 66th anniversary, and those flowers held significant meaning for them.
There was also a sub-order to create a woman's wedding bouquet from the past. This was not a simple task, but I was sure Damon could manage something. I had already informed them that due to breeding and new varieties of plants and flowers, an exact copy wouldn't be possible, but they would be happy if it was even slightly similar to the original.
The work order contained a lot of text, as well as a request for a specific type of vase. This meant he would have his hands full and wouldn't bother me.
As I was focusing on my own creation, and the men were now eagerly working on theirs, I couldn't help but reminisce about my long and arduous journey to this moment, which truly felt like a reward, at least for me. Even if it had been a damn hard life, it was also wonderful. I realized that part of its appeal was that this life kept me on my toes; no day was the same as the one before.
It had shown me that even I, a battle-hardened veteran, still had something new to learn. It was truly invigorating, and in that moment, I simply let myself enjoy this utter chaos, also known as pack life.
What was there not to enjoy? I was in charge; I held the most power to make decisions, and I was pretty damn good at directing the men to do my work for me, as they were so damn willing. I was queen, and I had my loyal and doting hive with me, working as they should.