Jay grunted. "Fine. I'll put it in the guest room. But not behind anything. It should be seen. Let people know we have a butler dog."
"People are going to think we're crazy."
"People already think we're crazy because of you. Because you talk to plants."
"The plants listen to me."
"Plants don't listen to you."
"Yes, they do."
Claire put her hands to her head. "Can I have a cookie? I need something sweet after this conversation."
"Eat them all," Gloria said. "I'm going to need something stronger."
Mitchell and Cam's Garden
When we arrived at Mitchell and Cam's house, the scene was even stranger than the statue.
Cam was sitting in the garden with his legs crossed and an expression of deep sadness. Mitchell was beside him, arms crossed, with an expression mixing exasperation with tenderness.
"What happened?" Claire asked, approaching with the cookie tray (which was now almost empty).
"The gardener," Mitchell said, his voice tired. "He's getting married, and Cam is upset because he wasn't invited to the wedding."
"Why would he be invited? He's the gardener."
"That's what I said. But Cam says he's 'part of the family.'"
Cam looked up, his eyes bright. "He is part of the family, Mitchell! He comes every week! We pay him to mow the lawn! That's more than most of your relatives do!"
"My relatives don't charge me to come over."
"Because they don't come!"
Gloria approached Cam and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. If the gardener didn't invite you, it's because he doesn't value you. And if he doesn't value you, he doesn't deserve your tears."
"But it's just... I want to give him a wedding present. A grill, or a blender, or a set of towels."
"A set of towels?" Mitchell asked, eyes wide. "For the gardener?"
"His name is César! And he has a name!"
"César Salad!"
"Don't make fun!"
The argument escalated. Claire and Gloria exchanged a look that said, "This is worse than I thought."
I stayed on the sidelines, observing. Alex was right: her family was a disaster. But it was also her family. No matter how much they fought, they always ended up together.
"Leo," Mitchell said, turning to me. "You understand. Tell Cam he can't give the gardener a grill."
"Mr. Pritchett, I just came for the cookies."
"The cookies are gone," Claire said.
"Then I came for cookies and there were none."
Cam looked at me with an expression of hope. "Do you think I should give him something?"
"I think... if the gardener is important to you, you don't need to give him anything. Just going to the wedding and wishing him happiness is enough."
"But how can I go to the wedding if he didn't invite me?"
"Then invite him to dinner at your house. That way you celebrate with him in your own way."
Cam looked at me for a long time. And then, with a smile that lit up his entire face, he said:
"That's what I'm going to do. I'm going to invite him to dinner. I'm going to make him a cake. I'm going to sing a song in Spanish."
"Cam, you don't speak Spanish," Mitchell said.
"I'll learn. For César. And for love."
Mitchell sighed. "I'm going to need more cookies."
The Improvised Wedding
What started as a dinner ended up being a wedding.
I don't know how it happened. One minute we were in Mitchell and Cam's garden, arguing about whether or not to give a grill as a present. The next minute, the gardener (César, who turned out to be a short man with an eternal smile) was at the door with his fiancée (a small woman in a white dress with flowers in her hair), and Cam was organizing an impromptu ceremony.
"We're going to marry them!" Cam shouted, arms open as if embracing the world. "Here and now! In my garden! With my flowers!"
"Cam, you're not a priest," Mitchell said.
"But I can be! For one day! For love!"
Gloria approached César and said something in Spanish that made him smile. The bride nodded, eyes bright. Jay, who had arrived with Barkley under his arm (because "he couldn't leave the dog alone"), put the statue in a corner of the garden and crossed his arms.
"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen," he said.
"It's beautiful," Gloria replied. "And you're a grump."
"I'm a realist."
"It's the same thing."
The ceremony was brief and chaotic. Cam officiated with a cookbook instead of a Bible ("Because love is built in the kitchen"). Mitchell accompanied on a violin he didn't know how to play. Claire and Gloria cried. Jay pretended not to care, but his eyes grew moist when the couple kissed.
I stayed on the sidelines, hands in my pockets, observing. And then, Alex appeared beside me.
I don't know how she got there. Maybe her mom brought her. Maybe she came alone. But suddenly she was there, in her gray sweatshirt and her usual glasses, watching the wedding with an expression mixing surprise with tenderness.
"Did you know this was going to happen?" I asked.
"I never know what's going to happen in this family. But it always ends up being interesting."
"And do you like it?"
"I like that it's unpredictable. That I never know what to expect. That there's always something new."
"Like the statue."
She laughed. "Like the statue. My grandpa put it in the guest room. My mom said it looked like a scarecrow with a mustache."
"And Gloria?"
"Gloria wants to put a bow on it to make it more 'festive.'"
"And your grandpa?"
"My grandpa said if she put a bow on it, he was going to go live with Barkley in the guest room."
"What did Gloria say?"
"She said she'd have the bed all to herself."
We laughed. And in the laughter, in the noise of the wedding, in the flowers falling from the sky (Cam had hired someone to throw petals—don't ask), I knew I didn't need anything more.
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