The Accidental Florist

That’ll be perfect.“
    Mike didn’t care. “It’s only a short drive from here. I hadn’t even told my boss when I’d be gone. So any time suits me.“
    When she’d booked the flight for Katie and made a copy of both sides of the credit card to send along for the e-ticket, and when she’d dropped it off at the FedEx box at the corner of the block, she called Shelley. “I have all the travel plans lined up. Let’s take my emerald suit to the hatmaker.“
    Jane had the rest of the roll of quarters along and fed them into the parking meter and then went back to the shop.
    “Here’s the suit I’m wearing,“ she told Madelyn. “I hope you can match the color. And we’re shorter on time than I thought. The wedding is only three weeks from now, instead of six weeks.“
    The milliner held up the dress and said, “I think I already have a good match. I’ll hunt through the greens and we’ll take a look.“
    She returned ten minutes later with a length of perfectly matching matte silk fabric. “I usually use this as liner but I’ll line it with something a little sturdier.“
    “How do I make sure it doesn’t slip right off my head?“ Jane asked
    The milliner picked up another beret and turned it inside out. “There are three little combs that hold it. Let me show you right now how to use them.“
    She put Jane in front of the three-way mirrors and showed her how to adjust the combs so they wouldn’t slip, or make her hair look odd.
    Next Shelley tried out the black one she’d chosen. She looked fabulous in it.
    “I can have this green one done by the end of the week,“ she said.
    “I’ll be back on Friday then,“ Jane said. “What time do you open?“
    “At nine, but wait until ten or you’ll never get a parking place. There are so many deliveries to shops around here that you’d have to park blocks away.“
    This time Shelley had driven and refused to wait to see if someone pulled into the place they’d vacated and the meter showed another five hours.
    “When we pick up my hat and dress, we’re almost done.“
    “Except for dealing with Addie. Didn’t she say she’d get back to you about the dates?“
    “I’m keeping a close eye on the caller ID. Mel is going to have to deal with her from here on out.“
    “But will he?“
    “He’s been coping with her bossiness all his life. He must know by now how to control her.“

Chapter Nineteen

    With almost everything Jane needed to do for the weddings done, she was eager to get back to Sally’s story. She wasn’t going to actually write another scene until she’d made her list of twenty or thirty things that might or might not happen in the story. She enjoyed this process. They were in no particular order, and could be deleted or added to whenever she thought up something new.
    This had been suggested to her at the mystery conference she and Shelley had attended. A well-known writer who had befriended Jane had mentioned it. “That way you never sit down at the computer and say to yourself, `Where on earth do I go in the next chapter? You have many choices.’“
    Jane, following this excellent idea, sat down to think and make notes. In no time at all, she had thirteen good suggestions of scenes and clues, and characterizations. She’d think about them and add more later as her mind threw out new plot twists.
    One important scene was calling out to her though.
    Maud comes back, walks into Sally’s room, and tries to smother Sally with a pillow. Maud doesn’t even notice that Sally’s eyes are open. Sally swings her right arm and smacks Maud right in the nose. Maud screams. Lacy, who is napping on the cot, tosses away the pillow and grabs a towel, and rubs the blood off of Sally’s hand. And a good thing that she does. A moment later, the doctor arrives for his routine afternoon visit, bursting into the room.
    “What’s going on here?“
    Maud, her fingers bloody, pinching her nose shut, is screaming and pointing at Sally. “That woman hit me! She’s broken my nose.“
    The doctor hands Maud a small towel and says, “You foolish woman. Sally can’t even move her fingers. You’re making this up.“
    “I did it,“ Lacy says. “I saw her trying to smother Sally and I ran around the bed and hit her in the nose.“
    The doctor looks at Lacy and asks, “Why don’t you have blood on your hand then?“
    “Because I wiped it off,“ Lacy says, showing him the towel.
    Jane could hardly wait to write and expand this scene.