Bea was in the kitchen taking the ribbon off a jar.
She looked up when Ruth and I came through the hall. Her hair was tied back, and there was a damp mark on the front of her shirt.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi.”
Ruth put her bag on the chair beside the door. Mother was in the front room, speaking to somebody on the phone. I could hear her saying that people shouldn't rush to conclusions.
“The flowers are still lovely,” Ruth said.
Bea looked down at the jar in her hand. “Yes.”
The ribbon had been tied tightly. She tried to slip a fingernail under it, then reached for the scissors. Her fingers were shaking enough that she set them down again.
I took my coat off and put it over Ruth's bag.
“Give it here,” I said.
Bea held the jar out. I turned it until I could see the knot and pulled one end free.
The ribbon came away. I laid it on the counter.
“Thank you.”
“Where do you want it?”
“Here. I want to change the water.”
I put the flowers in the empty bucket while she carried the jar to the sink. Ruth went to the front room after Mother called her name. Bea and I stayed in the kitchen.
There were more than a dozen finished arrangements. Without the ribbon, they looked like flowers someone might have bought for a room they liked. They didn't stop being pretty because there wasn't going to be a wedding.
I took the next jar. Bea emptied the first and filled it with clean water.
“Are all these going in the garden?” I asked.
“Some. Mum says people won't have anywhere to put drinks if we use every table.”
“She'll have counted the drinks too.”
Bea gave a tiny laugh, then pressed her lips together as if she wasn't sure she was allowed.
I passed her the stems. She arranged them again without looking at the drawing she'd made for Saturday.
“I'm not taking her money for a wedding now,” she said.
I nodded.
“She thinks I'll change my mind if she keeps offering the lunch.”
“Will you?”
“No.”
I untied another ribbon. We didn't talk about the deposit or the message. I had heard them. The jar in my hands was slippery, and I needed to be careful with it.
Bea reached for the bucket before I could lift it.
“Your wrist,” I said.
She paused, then moved her hand away. “Habit.”
I carried it to the sink. She cut the ends of two stems and put them into fresh water while I wiped the spilled drops from the counter.
Outside, a car door shut. Nate's voice came through the window.
“Yes, tomorrow's ceremony is cancelled. Bea will speak to everyone in a few minutes. I'll be here too.”
He was telling people as they arrived. He wasn't standing at the kitchen door waiting for Bea to do it all.
I loosened the ribbon on a squat jar. That one had been one of the stubbornest to wash on Monday. Now the glass was clear, and a rose stood in the middle, its petals opening wider than before.
Bea saw me looking.
“They'll be good for a few days yet,” she said.
“Then they need the water.”
She nodded and took the jar.
We worked until the bucket was empty and the ribbons lay in a little tangled pile. Bea reached to throw them away, then stopped.
“Keep them,” I said. “You can use them at the shop.”
She put them in a drawer without answering. Her hand rested on the handle for a second before she shut it.
Ruth came back to the kitchen. “People are out in the garden.”
Bea dried her hands.
I picked up my coat. She looked at it and recognised the mended cuff. I saw the small change in her face, but she didn't mention it.
“Ready?” Ruth asked.
Bea nodded.
I followed them through the back door. The jars stood on the tables without their wedding ribbon. Bea stopped beside one, moved a leaf out of the water and left it there.
Then she went to the front of the chairs.