Truly (New York 1)

May pointed, and Ben hoisted the cardboard box full of daisy buckets higher in his arms. His biceps flexed. A corded forearm muscle made its presence known and momentarily distracted her from her preoccupation with her sister’s solitary performance of unhappiness on the other end of the room.

“Lead the way,” he said.

She did, and he followed. “I need to find a way to talk to Allie,” she said.

Ben glanced toward Allie wielding her staple gun. “If you just tell me whatever scheme you’ve got in your head for what goes where, I’ll finish this, and you can talk to her right now.”

“No, I couldn’t. It would be weird.”

“Weird how?”

Ben set the box on the floor and lifted out four buckets, two dangling from each hand. May grabbed another two, and she scanned the flowers and tables quickly, deciding on the arrangement that would look best. “Put that all-orange one on the farthest table,” she directed. “And the mostly pink one on the table right next to it.”

“Is this the mostly pink one?”

“Yes. It would be weird to leave you here doing this by yourself.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It just would.”

“You’ve noticed what I’ve been doing the past few days, right? Cooking with your mom? Picking up the U-Haul with your dad? You know he didn’t say a word to me all the way from your house to Green Bay?”

“He’s not a big talker.” May walked away from Ben to put a group of mixed daisies on the table near the stage.

“You might have warned me,” he said when she returned to the box.

Disconcerted by his tone, she checked his expression. Not joking.

“It’s not like he told me he wasn’t going to talk to you. He probably didn’t know what to say.”

“Neither did I. Forty miles is a long way to ride without talking. He didn’t even turn on the radio.”

“Sorry.”

“I handled it. I can handle putting these on the tables, too, assuming you tell me what your secret scheme is. Can’t I alternate pink and orange and yellow, and then put the ones that are both kind of wherever?”

“I want it to look more random than that. But not really random. Artfully random.” In demonstration, she put a bucket of pink daisies on the table right next to the same thing. The effect would be an intensification of pink in this spot. She’d balance it out with more orange nearby, and a dash of yellow.

“Control freak.”

There was nothing sweet in the way he said it. He was ticked, probably at her, but whenever she tried to talk about it he kissed her, and she let him. It was so much easier to lose herself in the meeting of their mouths, their bodies, than it was to deal with how complicated everything had become.

“Maybe a little bit. It’s my sister’s wedding.”

“About that.”

“What?”

“I think I’d better get out of here soon. Your mom said you’ve got hair appointments and putting on the dress and all that coming up after lunch. I’ll just be in the way.”

May forced herself to let go of the bucket and step casually away from the table. She lifted an arrangement from where she’d temporarily stashed it and walked toward the next table, leaving Ben behind her. “Couldn’t you stay for the wedding?”

“Dan’s coming to the wedding.”

“Yeah.”

“Your universes would collide. Can’t have that.”