I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

55 - Tequila is for Winners

thanks again for reading everyone! Sorry I'm so slow!

Chapter 55 - Tequila is for Winners

"Ohh, Clarisse, do you remember what peach roses mean?" Grandma June asks me, pointing to the centerpiece on the table.

I'm over sitting at the table my grandparents are at, my mom and dad beside me. We've been here for maybe a half an hour, generally just chatting. We sat down with them after Maggie had all of the family get together for a group photo (that poor frazzled wedding photographer, so graciously attempting to capture every moment!), and also because I know that they'll want to leave soon. Probably. Lord knows Grandma June might want another dance and Grandpa Phillip might have to deal.

"Uhhh...I remember red roses are like, 'love' and 'passion'...?" Yeaaaa, I don't know. I think I vaguely remember white roses (and maybe just flowers in general? mean Innocence, yellow means something like friendship I think).

Grandma June smiles and shakes her head, her glasses glinting green from the lights coming off the dance floor. My Grandma June is petite and delicate, nearing frailty with age (her last heart attack recently was hard on her I know). Her hair is a shining silvery helmet which tucks behind her ears (sometimes her glasses' chain catches her hair and she'll say 'Oh my stars!'). She's wearing a light blue turtle neck with a gold dove pin on it, and an ankle length blue patterned skirt. She's the epitome of cute Grandmas, gentleness and sweetness and kindness and cuteness all wrapped up into one dainty little package.

So yea, I didn't really take after Grandma June, obviously.

"You're right about red dear! But peach roses usually mean 'modesty' and sometimes 'sympathy'! You see this other flower she has here? It's a poorly colored fake one of course, blue hydrangeas usually aren't this shade of blue, closer to a pale indigo usually, but anyways! Blue hydrangeas can sometimes mean 'gratitude' but also can mean 'arrogance'!"

"Ohhh cool Grandma. What's this little white flower?" 

"Looks like a few little white dahlias! Do you remember what dahlia's stand for?"

"Errrr..." Grandma June was a florist for almost all of her life, so her knowledge of all things plant like is endless. As kids she'd gather us all up and teach us the meanings of flowers and take us out to her little green house out back and have us help her water and trim them (also I'll totally never forget when the twins both started trying to eat worms hahaha, Aunt Janice LOST HER SHIT). Some of that knowledge as stayed with me, I think I may have even written a paper about the flower languages in middle school.

Now, while Grandma June is sweet and gentle, Grandpa Phillip is temperamental.

I can half hear him now, grumbling to my mom about getting along with Aunt Janice. He's short, with scrawny little arms and legs and a thick belly (it wasn't always like that, judging from family photo albums he started gaining his gut in his early fifties). He has a full head of shockingly white hair that is combed but it doesn't hide the wild curls, that Leavey hair that we've all inherited. His heavy 80s glasses droop down his nose and I know for sure he's wearing his typical Sunday outfit of a yellow plaid button up and plain black pants pulled up over his belly button. He's typically a snarly old grouch, but I do love the fuck out of him too, because lord knows without him I wouldn't have half the attitude I do now! And of course Grandpa's only grouchy with like, 95% of people. Grandma June is exempt from his sass, because they're perfect together. 

They met in the most adorable fucking way, of course...

Grandpa Phillip, at age 19, worked at a local hotel at the front desk down town, but would take his lunch break and walk to his favorite restaurant. On the way there, he'd pass the flower shop, and almost always saw Grandma June working, and said 'she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen'. He said he walked in once, intent on saying hello, but got too nervous and was out of the door before she'd even turned around. So he walked by the flower shop every day for another month, too shy to go in again. Eventually he got fed up with himself one day, and said he made it his goal to talk to her. He walked down to the flower shop and stepped inside. She was at the front desk, and she smiled and said 'Hello', he said he probably said hello, but again got so nervous he walked back out again, and even forgot to get lunch! He was furious with himself, but suddenly had an idea.