Lynn ‘sPOV

The flowers were everywhere.

I hadn't asked for this many. Evelna had interpreted "simple" as "elegant minimalism," which apparently meant white peonies from the gate to the willow trees and back again. I'd stopped arguing about it two weeks ago.

My father stood beside me at the edge of the path, both of us looking at the rows of people, the arch of branches, Grayson standing at the end of it with his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes already on ...