“What is it?” I asked.
“She wants lilacs in her wedding bouquet.”
“Okay…” Nevada said she wanted carnations, but we could stuff some pretty pink lilacs in there. I didn’t see the problem.
“Blue,” Arabella squeezed out. “She wants blue lilacs.”
No and also no. “Nevada…”
“I had to hide in a bush of French lilacs yesterday and they were very pretty and smelled nice. The card on the branch said, ‘Wonder Blue: prolific in bloom and lush in perfume.’”
I googled French lilac, Wonder Blue. It was blue. Like in your face blue. “Why were you hiding in a bush?”
“She was being shot at,” Arabella said with a sour face.
“So you stopped to smell the lilacs while people were shooting at you?” I couldn’t even.