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10
IT'S EXACTLY A week before Pamela's third wedding, but here she is once again, replacing all of the flowers she ordered from a while back. From what Scott Akers gathered, Pamela realized sometime between last week and this week that her original flowers don't match with her theme at all, and that she needs an immediate change. Usually, this kind of thing would annoy Scott to no end, especially since he has to cancel the previous order, find a replacement, place a completely new one, and then have the new flowers delivered on time. If that isn't stress-inducing to any florist -- punk or not, then God knows what is.
However, this is still Pamela West-soon-to-be-whatever-Warner's-last-name-is, and although she may be slightly crazy, Scott still thinks she's a really nice person who is the mother of an equally nice and pretty and kind daughter. Also, it isn't too bad because the said-daughter and Scott's mother are here with him to face this situation. To anyone else, it almost seems hilarious to watch the group of four walk around the store. Meredith is showing her friend alternative options, and Scott is scribbling down the ones Pamela likes on a notepad, exchanging an amused glance or two with Camille, who is carrying some flowers.
By the way, the list is long.
After Pamela is satisfied with looking around, the four of them head back to the front counter to go through all their options. Scott takes one glance at it before dramatically slumping forward against the counter and resting his cheek on his hand.
"Oh, there's so much to choose!" Camille's mother exclaims, her eyes skimming through Scott's handwriting and barely understanding it.
The punk boy simply grabs the list, pulls the pen out from behind his ear, and begins to cross off the ones that he believes are honestly stupid or overrated. Surprisingly, Meredith doesn't make a pointed comment about him snatching the paper away, but that probably means that she's just as tired and wants this whole ordeal to be over with. Camille's mom also looks happy, maybe because this eighteen-year-old punk boy, who knows flowers better than most people, took this responsibility off her hands.
"Your theme is gold and white, right?" Scott asks, springing back to life, but before she can answer, he lets out a brief and uncharacteristic laugh and says, "That rhymed."
"You're a complete dork," Camille states, fondly rolling her hazel eyes at him and shifting her weight against her left foot. He simply flashes a grin in return.
"Yes, gold and white is my theme."
"Alright," Scott says, finally feeling like they're getting somewhere with this choice as he turns the paper around for her to see. It's not like she still understands the handwriting, though, "I got rid of any centerpiece ideas that are only roses. They're usually traditional for weddings, and I don't think you want that, I'm assuming. It's all about originality, yeah?"
