A Tangled Web - And It's Not Just My Hair - SoGS #4

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The only reason Ryleigh told me about her plans for Wednesday, two days after I’ll start work at Delamore Funerals, was because she felt bad about the whole thing with Will. I didn’t tell her about admitting that she’s trying to set me up with Will, but I did tell her about the slippers. In her defense, she was so focused on fixing my hair she didn’t even notice my choice of footwear.

She wanted to keep the next thing on her bucket list a complete surprise, but I was practically in tears explaining to her how nervous I was for my first day at the funeral home. I couldn’t take any more nerves, and not knowing what she had planned for Wednesday was less nerves, more fear (especially after the hair incident). And while Ryleigh may be pushy about some things (or a lot of things), she is one of the most soft-hearted people I know. When she saw my eyes tear up she gave me a huge hug, handed me a piece of chocolate, and spilled her idea to do a photo scavenger hunt around town.

Which, actually, sounded like a lot of fun.

Saturday morning is here – it’s been three days since our hair appointments and I’m still not used to seeing poofy hair with peach tips each morning. I’ve tried using a curling iron to style it, which helps a little, but mostly I’ve worn it up in a neat bun to hide the ends.

Plus, I have no clue what to wear to the youth group hangout. No, I should rephrase that: I have no clue what shoes to wear. It’s a given that I’ll see Will at the event, and I’m debating whether to avoid him at all costs and pretend like the whole slipper thing never happened, or make a joke about it and hope he reciprocates.

I guess I’ll just act as normal as possible and see what happens.

Finally deciding on a pair of cute sandals with gold accents, I endure my drive to the youth building at church by drowning all thought of embarrassment with my summer playlist. It honestly does help to hear some encouraging songs, and I feel a teensy bit better by the time I pull into the parking lot.

As much as I fight the urge to search the faces inside for Will’s, I can’t help but notice him in a group of teenagers off to the side as I enter the game room.

Then I see Ryleigh’s face in the group.

No, no, no. I cannot let Ryleigh do any more damage than she already has. She means well, of course, but if she tells Will anything else about me, I will literally die.

Ryleigh meets my eyes, waving me over excitedly, and I make my way toward the group. As soon as we’re within arm’s reach, she grabs my elbow and practically flings me toward Will.

“Will, this is Ella. You met her on Thursday at Ultimate Boba.”

Will smiles at me as Ryleigh does her best to subtly remove herself from the conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her smirk, like she thinks she’s being oh-so-helpful.

My attention snaps back to Will as he speaks. “So, Ryleigh told me about your job at the florist this summer.”

In that moment my heart stops. Once I can feel its beat start up again against my chest, I take in a breath. “Ryleigh told you that?”

“Yeah, she said you’re one of the top flower arrangers.”

At my shocked expression, his brow wrinkles in confusion. “Oh, did you want it to stay a secret?”

“Well – I – ” My brow furrows. Why would Ryleigh tell him I work at Morning’s Glory? I struggle to find the words to say. “I… what exactly did she tell you?”

His confusion grows as he speaks. “That you got a job at the local florist for the summer, and that you’re already one of their best arrangers. She kind of just mentioned it in conversation.”

I breathe in slowly, then let it out. My face is flaming, and I don’t know what to say to Will. I still don’t understand why Ryleigh would do this to me, why she would humiliate me like this. “I… I think I have to talk to Ryleigh.”

Will shrugs, glancing around. “Okay. I don’t see her anywhere, though.

Barely restraining a glare, I follow his gaze around the room. Sure enough, Ryleigh has disappeared.

“No,” I groan, frustration knotting itself in my stomach. I cast a quick glance back at Will. “I have to find her.”

And with that, my gold strappy sandals glide out of the room.

--

I find Ryleigh by the yogurt bar in the main hall, and her smile fades as I approach her. She can definitely tell something’s wrong.

“What happened?”

I don’t know if I’m mad at Ryleigh. I’m probably not – I just feel hurt, and sad. It takes a minute before I find words to say, and I try to keep my voice down. “You can’t just support me?”

Her brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“I may not have a dream job, and I may not even like my job. But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to lie to Will.” A flood of hurt hits me again as tears spring up in my eyes. I can’t believe Ryleigh would do this. “I don’t care if he thinks my job is dumb. I’m just hurt that you’re ashamed to say your friend works at a funeral home.”

She holds my gaze for a moment before staring at the ground. “You’re right.” Her voice is soft, and she really does sound apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Ella. I know it was wrong. I honestly thought I was helping you.”

I can’t help but gape at this. “How?”

“Well… I wanted him to like you. And working at a florist seems a little more…”

“Likeable?” I finish for her. She opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. “Seriously? You couldn’t have just told him the truth, or not said anything at all? Or at least not have told him I’m one of their best workers?”

“Ella, I’m sorry. I’ll –”

“No. Don’t do anything.” I take a step back in defense. “I know you were trying to help but I really don’t want you meddling with my business anymore.” I can’t stop a tear from rolling down my cheek, and I turn away, fishing my mom’s keys out of my bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

--

I avoid Ryleigh on Sunday, glad when she doesn’t try to text or call me. I’m still planning to meet her on Wednesday for our photo scavenger hunt, but it’s only so I can talk to her once my anger and hurt burns off a little. I need to figure out what to do about the whole situation with Will and untangle the lie Ryleigh started.

Plus, I need to at least pretend to be content and professional for my first day of work (even if I’m not particularly happy at all about it), and maybe faking joy will help me to feel it a little more.

Susan greets me with a smile as I enter the solemn building of Delamore Funerals on Monday morning. “Hello, Ella. Happy first day of work!”

“Thanks,” I find myself whispering. I guess it just feels like a place where you should whisper. The spacious front room is simply decorated with muted but pretty colors. I have to admit, Susan’s decorating taste is impeccable.

Susan clasps her hands in front of her. “Today I’ll show you around and explain what you’ll be doing each day. You can also observe how we conduct our funerals, since there’s one scheduled today at five.”

I barely hide a wince. Lovely – my first day and I get paid to attend a funeral. But I nod and smile, following Susan to a desk with a computer and some file folders.

“You’ll do various things as our receptionist, but one of those things is helping people when they come in to the home. Most people walk in to schedule their funeral or ask questions. It’s your job to greet them and help them with whatever they need. And if you’re ever confused, just come find me.”

My dream of helping excited brides arrange their dream bouquets slowly fades into nonexistence as Susan speaks. How much more depressing can this get?

She opens a cabinet in the desk, revealing at least a dozen tissue boxes. “We also have these, because our clients tend to become emotional.”

Okay, it can definitely get more depressing.

“Always remember, empathy comes first. Delamore Funerals is a business, but we’re also here to support the grieving. Don’t be afraid to cry with clients, listen to their stories, and help them get through these tough times. People don’t come here for a bunch of stuffy business owners trying to earn money. They come here to be enveloped in sympathy and love.”

She pauses, and I realize I’m supposed to respond. I give her a small smile. “That’s very sweet. I’ll do my best.” I glance at the cabinet. “And the tissues are a great idea.”

My first day of work is equal parts exhausting and boring. When there’s no one coming in, I file papers and organize appointments. I answer phones only to connect every caller to Susan since I don’t know the answer to any questions. I write down things I’ll have to ask Susan later so I can get better at my job (no matter how much I dislike it). And the one funeral of the day is extremely long. I hug strangers, offer them tissues, and help clean up afterwards.

Part of me wonders if that car is really worth all this.

My dad demands details as soon as I walk in the door, and I give him the bare minimum before retreating to my room and flopping down on my bed. Spending the day working distracted me for a little while, but now all my resentment about the lie situation comes flooding back. I really don’t want to do the photo scavenger hunt with Ryleigh in two days, but I need to talk to her about what she told Will.

And how am I supposed to tell Will, my crush and maybe-friend, that Ryleigh lied about me and I actually work at a funeral home?!

--

I wish flip-flops could make that satisfying clicking thing that heels can. If they could, I’d be click-clacking my way down West Cove Avenue on Wednesday, head held high and camera in hand.

Instead, I shuffle my flip-flops, clinging to my dad’s camera so I don’t drop it.

Ryleigh glances up from her own camera as I approach her. “Hey, Ella,” she says softly.

“Can we talk?”

She nods and sits next to me on a park bench, looping her camera strap around her wrist.

I sigh. “I’m still kind of mad at you, but not as much as on Saturday. I haven’t been able to talk to Will yet, though. I still have to straighten things out with him.”

“I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t want to – to mess anything else up.” Ryleigh’s voice cracks, and a pang of guilt hits my chest. She takes in a shaky breath. “I really want him to like you, and so I thought if I…” she sighs, but it sounds more like a laugh. “That sounds really bad when I say it out loud.”

A tiny laugh escapes me too. “Well, I’d probably do the same thing. If I was the setting-up type.”

Ryleigh covers her face with her hands. “Ella, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. There’s really nothing bad about you working at the funeral home, I just… I don’t even know. But I’m so, so, sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me someday.”

I take a moment to think. I’m still hurt by what she did, and I still have to tell Will the truth. But I’m not angry anymore, and I can trust that she won’t do it again. I touch Ryleigh’s shoulder. “Of course I forgive you. But can you just be supportive of my job?”

She nods, giving me a small smile. “Yes. And I can straighten it out with Will if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should be the one to do it. I should probably do it soon, though…” And then it hits me.

If Will tells anyone I work at the florist, this could be really bad.