"We regretfully inform you that you were not selected for—"
Blossom stopped reading the email shortly after she opened it. She should've known it'd be another rejection. Fourth one of the week to be exact. Even retail isn't hiring. She flopped on the couch next to the professor watching his Sunday golf program.
"Another bad email?" He questioned with a sorrowful look at his eldest daughter.
"Ughhhh," she responded into the pillow she had buried her face into.
"I hate this for your generation," the professor began. "Back in my day if you wanted to work somewhere you just started doing the damn job and they handed you a check or some cash. Then you showed up again the next day. I don't know what happened to the world you girls are living in."
"I don't think it's everyone, Professor," the mumbles rippled through the pillow before she finally lifted her head. "I think it's just my luck."
"You are 25 honey, Princess says your Saturn return is usually around that time, so it makes sense that you're struggling to—"
"Oh I do not want to hear any spiritual justification for my suffering right now," She stood from the couch. "I just want to be mad at the world, sulk, and blame all my past decisions in peace."
"Is that peace?" He yelled to her retreating form, up the stairs.
"What the hell is peace anyway?" She yelled back.
Blossom returned to her room and found it in her to crack a window to let some fresh air in. It always got stuffy when she was in it for too long. She propped herself against her headboard and opened her laptop to review some of the pieces she wrote. Some things she was stuck on, unable to find just the right words to describe the theme, others she just nitpicked. Blossom had redesigned the cover three times and changed the title six. She was never satisfied.
She shut her laptop and unlocked her phone. She found herself on Buttercup's wedding board. Now fine-tuned to what she and Princess were wanting. She knew it would be a beautiful wedding. The not-so-charming side of Townsville was what she and Princess had in common. Princess with her father's "associates," in regards to their source of wealth, and BC with her love of the people who needed her protection most. The south side of Townsville is what built the city. It was no wonder they wanted to get married at the oldest, most notorious hotel in the city. Townsville Centennial Hotel. The venue was huge and in the 20's all the greats hosted parties there. They were in a way having a not-gatsby wedding. Think "biker romantic."
It had been weeks since she heard from her sisters. Bubbles was doing what she could to get Baron ready for school over the Summer and get in shape for her sister's wedding. BC and Princess were always going to meetings, tastings, busy work, regular work, you name it. We had even decided to cancel this month's family dinner with all the chaos. So Blossom was alone, stuck in her perpetual cycle of clean, cook, write, Netflix, sleep, repeat. She needed to do something with herself.
She had been looking at different programs and organizations that offered writing workshops and events centered around small Townsville writers. It looked intriguing, but the people involved looked so different from her. She felt like she'd come across as out of place. A spectator more than a participant. An imposter. That's what she was right? A not-writer, a dabbler, and rambler. So she never went but still marked her calendar for every event she came across. Lately, she had been considering it more now that Buttercup requested she speak at her wedding.
"What? Why me?" She chewed her lip pressing her ear to the phone forcefully.
"Because you wrote my entire proposal speech! I know you write, Bubbles told me. Just something lovey-dovey and on theme. Bubbles and Butch get to share a speech, Kamari has her own speech, and Mitch is doing a song. This is your part!" She yelled.
"Fuck it, fine, but don't rush me about it!"
"You know the deadline," she responded just before hanging up the phone.
I could write my pain, heartbreak, hell, even write the nostalgia of lost love, but I cannot do love, present tense. I don't know what it feels like anymore. Now whatever the hell I write will be at the forefront of a major fashion campaign, and I can't think of a word that rhymes with heart.
His name.
The intrusive thought passes through without warning and as much as I'd like to forget it, it's still a good start. I added it to my notes app.
"I can't fucking do it anymore!" I hear Buttercup yell from outside right before she bangs down the front door. "I'm losing my fucking mind!"
She stomps up the stairs and flings my bedroom door open. "Do you not fucking hear me?" She asks.
"BC," I say putting my phone on the dresser, "All of Townsville can hear you."
"Well, they can all listen because I am fucking over it!" She flops face-first onto my bed next to me.
"Stressed?" I ask her rubbing her back.
"Yes," she groaned into the mattress before flipping over. "My fucking firm is driving me crazy with this client. "The client" is driving me crazy with these dresses. The Bride is driving me crazy with the planning. And I am considering driving off a cliff!"
"No, don't do that," I coo sympathetically. "Who's gonna bake all the desserts?"
"Shut the fuck up Blossom," she hissed. "It would be fine if they would just let me hire a planner like Brick suggested, but noooo, even though an assistant is in the budget, it's a top-secret launch and only people in the campaign can know about it and—"
Buttercup shot upright on the bed and looked at me with wide eyes. "You can do it."
"No, the fuck I can't," I say looking away from the beginning of her pouty face.
"Why the fuck not?" She stood up flinging her arms dramatically. "You're in the campaign, you've planned like every major event in our lives, and no offense but you've got nothing but free time."
Okay ouch. "It's not just your wedding it's a fucking campaign! It has to be perfect for both companies!"
"Who knows perfect like little Miss Perfect?!" She points at me with two finger guns.
"I am far from perfect, now!" I protest.
"C'monnnn," BC begged literally on her knees while resting her head in my lap. "It's in your chemical-make-up-of-an-accidental-ingredient!"
I looked down at my groveling sister with a blank expression.
"Please," she said letting the joking leave her tone. "I am your sister, and it is my special day and I really, really need your help."
I let out a sigh and threw my head back. "Fine."
"Great!" She popped up with a spring in her step. "Okay, so you start tomorrow and I already gave the company all your information to reach out to you. I emailed the to-do list for the venue, caterer, and whatever the hell else Brick needs. By the way, he's your partner for this, creative director, or whatever. But it's fineee because you'll be compensated for your suffering. After all, this gig is a whopping $14.00 an hour assistant role, that you were hired for before this conversation had even started! Thanks so much for agreeing, Sis, if you need anything or have any questions don't hesitate to reach out!" She finished all in one breath before flying out the door. Her disappearing green streak was visible from Blossom's bedroom window.
"It must be so nice being the younger sister," she said to no one in particular.
She opened her laptop again and saw the email BC had sent. It was a long checklist divided into multiple categories. Venue, catering, decorations, invitations, and many others that broke into smaller subcategories specific to the campaign. The category that was labeled "priority" was everything concerning the designs. Securing materials, accessories, sizing measurements, and many more that were more Brick's expertise than mine.
"Damn, all this for $14.00 an hour?" But it was a job, her sister's wedding, and most importantly, something to do with her time.
There, at the top of the cc'd list was Brick Jojo's email, and at the bottom of the checklist was all his contact information. His cellphone number was still the same. She decided she'd handle what she could on the list. None of this was moving forward without a venue, and if BC wanted the Townsville Centennial, then she'd get the Townsville Centennial.
—-
"BOOKED OUT FIVE SEASONS?" I screeched into the phone. "How am I going to wait a year for my sister's wedding!"
I paced while the receptionist finished laughing, letting my anger boil.
"FIVE FALL SEASONS?" So this is what a heart attack felt like? "FIVE YEARS FOR A WEDDING?"
"I don't care that you are the Centennial, what do you actually have happening October 19th of this year? Who is that important?"
"THE MAYOR'S FALL PICKLE BALL?" I should stop repeating everything this lady is saying but I am in complete disbelief.
"AND I WILL TAKE IT UP WITH THE MAYOR, THANKS SOOO MUCH FOR YOUR HELP!"
"I guess no luck with Centennial?" Buttercup popped her head into my office at her firm. She did get everything set up for me, and once I was done fuming I was going to thank her fully.
"Not yet," I grumbled and fixed her with determined crazy eyes. "I'm getting that fucking venue."
"That's my sister," she sang making her exit while I reached for my cell phone.
"Hello? Hi, Miss Bellum how are you? I was hoping I could meet with the mayor at some point this week. It's urgent."
—
I gave Miss Bellum a rundown of the situation and swore her to secrecy on the project. She said she'd make an appointment for us to see him on Friday but given the fact that he does not care for the Morbucks', it would be best to bring Brick with her to butter him up.
"You know he loves you girls, but those boys… well, they're his boys. He'll more than likely do it if Brick's involved."
So Blossom sent him an email immediately after her phone call with Miss. Bellum.
Subject: VENUE: URGENT
Brick,
We have a meeting with the mayor this Friday at 4
pm to secure the Centennial for our venue. He has
an event on October 19th that he might be willing to
move if we tell him about the project. Let me know
if you are available. Your attendance is preferred.
Thank you,
Blossom Utonium:
Wedding Assistant
Which is exactly why she is waiting for him outside of Townhall, five minutes to four.
"Miss Utonium," Miss Bellum greeted while she strutted down the hall.
Years later she was still the image of feminine perfection. She discarded the pencil skirt and blazer for a matching pantsuit and wore the jacket open with a low-cut blouse. He stilettos were replaced with a lower chunky heel, and her long wild curls were now pulled back into a heavy banged low bun. Stunning as ever.
"Miss Bellum," she returned her greeting with a smile.
"We're ready for you," she glanced over Blossom's shoulder. "Where is—"
"Here!" Brick burst through the door creating a loud echo in the extra large lobby of the hall. "Sorry I'm late I was—"
"Doesn't matter," Blossom cut him off with an eye roll. "Let's get this venue."
They walked into the Mayor's office and he looked the same as ever. Head barely poking over the desk, tufts of hair hanging on for dear life, and a monocle held in position by drooping eyelids and sagging eye bags. Not too shabby for an old man in near-perfect health. In an interview, he revealed that his secret to staying young was drinking hot pickle juice before bed. Maybe he was born with it, maybe it was the pickle juice.
He spun in his chair and quickly jumped up to greet them. "Brick Jojo, my boy aren't I glad to see you. My good pickle, aren't you getting tall!" He turned his head in my direction with a squint and twist of his monocle. "Oh, Blossom! That is you isn't it dear, hello how are you?"
"I'm great mayor, how are you?" I responded sweetly.
"Much better now that my boy…oh, and girl, has dropped in to pay me a visit! What brings you both in?" He chuckled.
"We wanted to talk about your Pickle Ball in October. See the problem is—" I began but Brick cut me off.
"The problem is that the boys and I were really looking forward to making it, but it looks like that date won't work for us. I have a major work event I need to be present for that day that can't be moved, but if I could…" Brick trailed off.
"Nonsense!" The Mayor exclaimed. "You boys want to come, I'll move the date. What's that event you've got going on with work, Sonny?"
"It's a project I'm the head of. I'm designing a bridal line and we were even going to use the Centennial as the campaign venue, but it's so booked up that—"
"Take October 19th!" The mayor instantly offered. "This way your campaign is exactly as you envision it and you can still make my Pickle Ball. Oh boy, I'll get Miss Bellum to set it all up. Won't you Miss Bellum?"
"Already on it Mayor," she said behind his desk rapidly typing emails.
All Blossom could do was stand by and watch the interaction. She knows she made the appointment like an assistant, but she didn't think this would feel like she was the assistant. Brick managed to get the Centennial without even divulging the secret project. The mayor gushed and fawned over him as if Brick was his actual son. The Mayor didn't even raise him! I met Miss Bellum's eyes as she typed away on the computer and she had a look that said 'told you so.'
"My goodness, it will be so spectacular! Please send me an invitation to your event, I would love to be in attendance and witness your great talent. Oh, I am so proud of you!" The tiny mayor began hugging Brick's legs.
"You'll be the first invite, thanks so much Mayor this will only be a success because of your generosity." Brick patted the Mayor's back.
"You're very welcome Sonny," he stepped away wiping his tears. "Oh, Blossom you're still here? Did you need anything?"
"No, mayor I was just stopping by to say hi." I smiled oh so sweetly again.
"Well thank you for stopping by, and tell Bubbles to bring her sons in the next time she gets a chance! Oh, they must be so big now…" His voice trailed off as Brick and Blossom left the office.
They walked in silence for a bit. Their first time seeing each other in person since she had her dream. No, she had already decided the dream didn't count because it was just a dream. Just. A. Dream. They were well past formal introductions. They were exes turned coworkers. How should she act?
"How the hell did you do that?" She asked him while he held the door open to the Townhall exit.
"What, you mean schmooze the Mayor?" He stood in front of her on the bottom step meeting her gaze. "How do you think I got a driver's license at 14?"
She rolled her eyes before finding herself staring into his. Silence settled over them as they basked in each other's presence. It had been years since they'd been this close. There was so much to talk about and nothing to say. Blossom chewed her bottom lip and fiddled with her purse strap wondering where to go from there. They were partners, and they had so much they needed to accomplish in a short amount of time. With the venue secured, all the other details could move forward. If she were smart she'd get a jump on that.
"When are you—"
"I was going to—"
They said simultaneously.
Blossom sucked her teeth and Brick motioned with his hand for her to continue. Just as she opened her mouth, her phone vibrated with a notification from Miss Bellum.
Blossom,
Here's the contact for the event manager at the
Centennial Hotel. He agreed to meet with you and
Brick a week from today at 7 pm to see and discuss
the event. Please try to be punctual. He doesn't take
kindly to unprofessionalism.
Best,
Miss Bellum.
The contact information was linked below and he was cc'd on the email.
"We have a meeting with the event manager for the Centennial next week at 7 pm," I told Brick.
"Okay, I'll put that on my calendar," he said pulling out his phone. "What are you going to do now?"
"Well considering I have a week to get all these caterers and decorators together I'm probably going to get back to work. If I have any questions I can email you?" I offered.
"Just text me, Pinky," he looked at her with a lopsided smile.
She didn't like the way it made her feel. "Blossom. We're professionals now so it's Blossom." She stormed past him ready to take flight.
"Okay, Blossom," he said smoothly, gently catching her arm at the bottom of the steps. "Text me."
She blew the bang out of her face and pursed her lips. Without another word, she took off into the sky ready to get as far away from him as possible. She hoped she did not have another dream that night.