I felt overwhelmed by the flowers, afraid they’d die in their little plastic pots before I had time to get them in the ground. “So whaddya think?” I asked Denny, flopping down on the couch after finagling a promise from Josh and Amanda that they’d help me dig up the flowerbeds. “Should we make this party for Florida a surprise or tell her about it?” “Huh?” Denny half-turned toward me, his eyes still glued to a documentary on public television about avalanches. “Never mind.” I got up. “No, no, that’s okay.” He hit the mute on the remote. “What’s up?” I reminded Denny what Yo-Yo had said last night about a five-year sobriety party for Florida and said both Avis and Stu liked the idea. “Should we make it a surprise or tell her about it?” “Tell her.You want to make sure she’ll come.” He hit the sound back on. “Uh, can we have it here?” “What? Sure.” On screen, the film crew was skiing for their lives, trying to outrace the avalanche. If I wanted a fur coat or a trip to Ireland, now would be the time to ask.
