Free Ambrosia (A Flowering Novella) by Sarah Daltry

which are actually very good. Lily fawns over some fried bananas wrapped in bacon and I choose teriyaki skewers. The chef comes out to talk to us for a bit to ask what themes we are thinking in terms of food. I didn’t know we were supposed to theme our food, but Lily is prepared. She takes out her requisite list and forms and whispers with the chef, while I finish off the appetizer samplers. The chef suggests picking a third appetizer to complete our menu so we agree to some kind of mini spinach quiche, and then he leaves us to go craft some kind of food based on Lily’s forms.
    “We have a theme?” I ask her.
    “It’s important to balance your meals, to include a variety for your guests,” she says, and I get the impression she’s been reading too many of her mom’s articles.
    “What do you want for the dinner?”
    She shrugs. “A hot dog?”
    I laugh. “I’ll sneak you out during the reception.”
    “Promise?”
    “I promise.”
    The actual meals are amazing, though, and we can’t decide. I love the salmon, admittedly, but I’m not sure about seafood during the wedding. Sure, we are getting married near the ocean, but people are weird. Lily’s family members have already been emailing and calling her dad to complain about how far the castle is, as if they have better things to do on a random Saturday than drive a few hours for a party. She’s gotten to the point where she usually suggests they don’t come if it’s such a problem, since we have to limit the guest list to less than 150 anyway. I knew it was a challenge when we picked the location, but she’s a princess. Where else would she get married?
    “We can have three choices,” she suggests. “You can be the only one with salmon if it comes to that.”
    “I don’t think they’re going to make me a special meal,” I argue.
    “Um, for the amount of money my dad is spending, they will make you whatever you want. Besides, you’re kinda critical to this whole event. They want to keep you happy.”
    “Okay, salmon then. What are the other two?” I ask.
    She laughs. “Chicken and pasta primavera.”

Lily
    T he cake tasting at the end is my favorite part, but for all the fancy combinations, we end up with chocolate and vanilla. It’s a cake. It’s going to look beautiful and my mom found us a topper with a castle made of seashells, but really, as much as I would love lemon or blueberry, my poor father is already becoming the voice of reason to a family who loves to find fault with every detail. We chose a location that’s too far. The hotels are too expensive. It’s going to be too muggy by the water in June. 6:30 is really late to start a wedding. And on and on. I figure I can give them a chocolate cake. I love my family, despite their complaining, and cake flavors are a small concession.
    We scheduled our meeting with the minister a little tight, but luckily, traffic is light for a Sunday. Jack picked a poem for the ceremony, but he hasn’t said what it is yet. He wants it to be a surprise. Otherwise, we ended up compromising on the passages and found some more traditional options in the files the minister emailed us, without going to the Bible. My mom will have to be happy we’re not reading novels and just deal with the fact that it’s a little out of the ordinary.
    I knew, even before we got here, that I would like Laura, our minister. On the phone, she’s been so easy to talk to, and she seemed to understand what I tried to explain without me having to go into too much detail. I’m prepared this time. After the DJ incident, I called her in advance and made sure she knew what she needed to know about Jack’s family. Still, when we actually meet her in person, it’s perfect. She comes to the door in a long skirt and tank top and she’s carrying two kittens in her arms.
    “Lily!” she says, as if we have known each other for years. “Hold on. Huginn and Muninn need to eat and they’re not hearing reason.” She kicks the