“They’re very pretty,” I assured him.
“Thank you. The guy at the flower shop called it a ‘summer bouquet’. He was adorable. I almost asked him what kind of bouquet he’d recommend if I wanted to ask a guy selling flowers what it would take for me to sit on his face, but somehow, I was able to resist the urge. This seemed to be more important.”
I rolled my eyes. “I thank you that you were able to hold yourself back from sitting on the flower guy’s face. I know it must have been so hard for you.”
“No, but it could have been hard.”
“Puns? Really? That’s what you’ve settled for? I don’t think the flower guy would’ve gone for that.”
“Oh, so you’ve been in love for twelve hours, and now you’re suddenly the expert?”
“Don’t use that word!”
“Love, love, Paul’s in love!”
“Shut your face, you damaged queen!”
He stuck his tongue out at me. “Make me, lover boy. You better let me perform at the wedding. If you don’t, our friendship is over.”
I was hurt. “Of course you would perform at the wedding. Who else would I get—Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m not getting fucking married! You tricked me, you scandalous bitch!”
He smirked evilly at me. “I guess we know what you’re thinking about.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“You bet your sweet ass we will. I see it more of a fall wedding, with leaves and centerpieces shaped like autumn squash—”
“Sandy!”
“Paul!”
“Focus! How are we going to get in?”
“Okay, okay. Let me think.” He frowned and tapped a finger to the side of his head. “So, we don’t know what room she’s in, only that she’s in hospice care. And since you won’t go the easy route and just ask Vince, we need to find her first. We’ll have to ask someone if they know where she’s at.”
“Why would they tell us? Isn’t it supposed to be secret? They won’t let us in to see the First Lady of Tucson if we just ask.”
“Two things: one, I don’t know if ‘First Lady of Tucson’ is a real thing. I just said that because it almost makes her sound like a princess, and that makes me happy because it makes me think that when you get married to Vince, it will almost be like a royal wedding since he would be the son of a princess.”
“And the second thing?” I asked warily.
“Hmmm?”
“The second thing? You said there were two things.”
“I did? Oh. Sorry. I forgot. I got distracted by the idea of a royal wedding. How dashing would Vince be in a uniform?”
“So dashing,” I said dreamily. After a moment, I shook my head, clearing my brain of images of Vince in a blue uniform with a sword and scabbard attached to his hip. “We’re off track again.”
“It was your fault that time,” he said. “Anyway, so since we have to incorporate the flowers somehow—”
“We don’t have to incorporate the flowers at all—”
“You shut your face! We do and we will. So, since we will be using the flowers, and that is nonnegotiable, we can say that we are there to deliver the flowers to the First Lady.”
“Won’t they think we’re like paparazzi or something?”
“Well, you, maybe, but that’s why I’ll be the one asking.”
“Wait. Why would they think I was paparazzi and not you? I feel like I should be offended.”
“You’re thinking too much about it,” he said, patting my arm. “I was born to act. You’ll just look more believable if you stood off to the side away from me like a scene extra.”
“Hey, I can act! I was in a play once. I was the best thing about the whole show.”
“I know. You were eight. It was about the four food groups. You played a block of cheese and had to sing a song about calcium. Your mom spent four weeks on the costume and it made you look like you were an orange dice. You cried after the first show because you had to pee so bad and they couldn’t figure out how to get you out of your cheesy prison.”
I smiled, remembering. “I brought the house down with my last line, though. ‘Give me dairy or give me osteoporosis!’ It was my greatest role.”
“And that’s why you won’t be playing the role of flower-delivery guy,” he said. “You can be Stand Off In The Corner guy.”
“Fine, but what about the Secret Service?”
“The what now?”
“The Secret Service. Won’t they be guarding the First Lady’s room?”