PLANS AND ACTION
Knock knock,” Lola appeared at Aaron's tent, the pirates welcoming her with familiar smiles and waving her in with mock bows. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, I am just regretting every breath I take,” Aaron tried to smile as he closed the book in which he was writing. “What have you brought, half the costume department?”
“I thought I would show Enola some accessories and floral samples,” she said, indicating the trunk that Matheson had heaved onto his tent floor. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Aaron said, and she gave him a glare. “Now is not the time, Lola.”
“Am I not your best friend?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“Of course you are. And that seems to be the one thing that hasn't changed since I...you know.”
“You are not getting along with Harold,” she said, and he rubbed a hand over his face.
“I thought I would. I was delighted to see him again; I thought everything would go back to normal. But the moment he walked into the room, I found anger I did not know I had.”
“Well, if it is any consolation, I feel the same way,” Lola said. “Wesley and Annabelle came to the theatre yesterday morning, and for one brief moment, I thought everything was going to fine. Then we spoke and I realized that it was not. This is difficult.”
“Yes,” Aaron said. “But at least he is by your side.”
“It seems none of us are lucky in love,” she said. “Except Harold and Annabelle, they seem happy.”
“They are,” Aaron said. “The fabulous Lord and Lady Bamber. Which almost makes it worse. But if one of us can be happy, I am glad it is Annabelle. She is my twin, her happiness is mine, albeit briefly.”
“And now we have to plan a fake-real wedding,” Lola said. “For an awkward match.”
“Why is it awkward?” Aaron asked.
“Well, they barely know each other,” Lola said and Aaron shrugged.
“Marriages have been made on less,” he replied. “And to be honest with you, they seem better off than most. They have at least spoken two kind words to each other.”
“Wonderful,” Lola replied as she opened the trunk. “Is this a military operation? Do you want approval on it from the colonel?”
Aaron snorted. “It technically is, now that the Colonel has approved it as part of the plan. However, I do not think he is going to be approving flower colors.”
“Was he suspicious?” Lola asked. “About pirates offering to help?”
“Beggars cannot be choosers,” he said. “Which is what I suspect your theatre contract is, by the way.”
“What?” She brushed the hair from her face.
“Do not hide from me. You were running.”
She sighed. “I just...everything in that country reminded me of him. It is a fairy tale gone into the darkness.”
“No chance of reconciliation?”
“Not that I can think of,” she said. “It does not matter, Aaron. I have always been better off alone.”
“No one is better off alone,” Aaron said, but she was not having it.
“Do you want me to fetch Enola, then?”
“Well, you might as well, seeing as you went to my tent instead of hers,” Aaron said, heaving himself off his desk chair. “It is fine; I should take the men out for a run.”
“I remember when you could not do that,” she said to him, and he smiled.
“Sea life has always been good for me. Do not worry so much, Lola, it'll all be alright.”
“Take your own advice,” she called after him as she crouched back into the trunk. She pulled out a small black pouch, emptying it into her hand.
She had asked the prop department for as many prop rings as they could spare, hoping that no one had to buy anything. Sure enough, half a hundred gold bands fell out, hitting the grass.
One of them looked exactly like the wedding ring she no longer wore. Her eyes welled up slightly as she picked it up, holding it in the palm of her hand.
She remembered when Wesley put a ring on her finger, promising the world. However, she did not want the world; she only wanted him.
She had thought love was enough; silly her.
“You wanted to see me?” Enola appeared and Lola looked up in surprise.
“Oh, Aaron got you. I did not expect him to.”
“I saw you crossing the camp with a giant trunk in tow,” Enola said. “I just assumed. That is a lot of rings.”
“They are fake, but they'll do,” Lola said. “If you wanted. I do not know how real you want this to be.”
“I want it to be real,” Enola said. “It has to be a marriage under...God for my people to accept it. They have ways of finding out things.”
“Of course,” Lola replied. “I am sure we can get you a real ring. But there are other things you can choose.”
Enola opened her mouth, and she was going to tell Lola that she did not care. Then she saw the flowers that Lola had gathered from various florists, lying in bunches on top of the trunk.
“Oh,” she said. “Not orchids. Not lilies.”
“Why?” Lola asked. “I mean, if you do not think they are nice...”
“They are nice,” Enola replied. “But they symbolize death in my culture. And I know this is a British wedding, but...”
“We can get different flowers,” Lola said, sitting on her haunches and looking her in the eye. “We can do whatever you want. It is your wedding.”
“My wedding,” Enola said quietly. The words resonated into her very heart, echoing in her head. It sounded so odd; so strange. Yet, she knew it was right.
“So what do you want?” Lola asked.
“If I only knew,” Enola replied softly. “If I only knew.”