Picture-Perfect Picnic... (Almost) - SoGS #2

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With everything that will be different (and better) about this summer, there is one thing that has stood the test of time every summer for at least the past ten years.

Ryleigh’s Terrifyingly Amazing Summer Bucket List.

(In case you were wondering, I added the terrifyingly part and she added the amazing part.)

The thing with Ryleigh is that to her, summer can’t be complete without trying (and usually failing at) ten new things. Every year, we talk about stopping the tradition, and we almost have a few times. Especially after she made us try water skiing, and we both ended up with broken arms. And that time we tried to do a lemonade stand in over 100-degree weather and ended up drinking half the proceeds in our heat-impaired delirium and giving out the rest to the workers who were paving my driveway. They looked so uncomfortably hot, it was the least we could do.

Then there was the time we tried taking up knitting, but Ryleigh’s aunt sternly banned us from talking about that. I’ll never look at a sweater the same way again.

There have been several occasions when the bucket list proved to be good. Like the time we had to go for a month wearing monochromatic outfits and it started a fashion trend throughout our town. Or when we started a band with a couple friends and it grew to now be the official youth group band at our church.

All that said, usually the bad outweighs the good.

So it’s understandable that my parents and Ryleigh’s aunt demand to know what we’ll be doing each week for the ten weeks we do the bucket list. They’ve only had to veto one idea (they didn’t think bungee jumping was a safe option after the water-skiing adventure) but usually Ryleigh has to do some explaining about exactly what we’ll be doing before they consent to the project.

The other thing with this bucket list is I don’t have any say. Ryleigh writes it up herself, gets it approved, then drags me along for whatever schemes she has planned. Although, I can’t think of one time I haven’t had fun. Doing the crazy tasks with Ryleigh makes it so much more fun and entertaining.

And she’s promised me that since we’re both working this year, she’s made it completely risk-free. She even swore that she wouldn’t have to do any convincing to get it approved.

I don’t believe her, of course, but like I said before, I don’t have any say.

Ryleigh looks up and waves as I enter Ultimate Boba. “Ella, have you heard from the florist?” she asks when I reach the counter.

“Not since my interview yesterday, but I did hear from two other places.” I scuff the floor with the toe of my shoe. “They’re not interested.”

“Well, that’s okay,” she pulls out the cup for my usual order, “because I’m sure Morning’s Glory will want you. I’ll bet you rocked that interview. Now they just need time to review your application.”

I smile at Ryleigh’s enthusiasm. And she’s probably right. I just need to give them time – why wouldn’t they hire me?

I pay for my drink as another employee takes the cup from her. “So, when do I get to find out the first task on your bucket list?”

I recognize that sparkle in Ryleigh’s eyes. She turns and calls to the back, “I’m going to take my break!” then slips around the counter and falls into a chair at a little round table. I pull out the other chair, sitting across from her.

Ryleigh speaks first, leaning forward and cupping her chin in her hands. “Ella. Did you hear about the youth group hangout later this month?”

I tilt my head. “Yeah, I’m going to that. But what about the bucket list?”

She squeals, ignoring my question. “I think Will’s going to be there! I heard him talk about it with a friend today. We are so going.”

“That’s not the point of the event. And I would go anyway, whether Will’s there or not.” Although I have to admit, it might be a nice excuse to (finally) start a conversation. Ryleigh nods in reluctant agreement, and I raise my brows. “The bucket list?”

Ryleigh’s hands wave with excitement as she speaks. “Oh, yes. You’re going to love the first one. It’s completely risk-free! And very aesthetic.” I nod, drawn in. Of course Ryleigh would play on my weakness for loving anything aesthetic. “We’re going on a picnic!”

My eyes widen, but she holds up a finger, stopping me before I can interrupt. “And no, not another rooftop picnic.” We shudder in sync. “This one will be at the park. Wear something summery, bring a fruit, and I’ll do the rest.”

I lean back in my chair. “That actually sounds like a lot of fun.”

Ryleigh squeals. “Yes! I knew you’d love the idea! It will be so much fun.” She stands up abruptly, her chair screeching against the tile floor. “Tomorrow at ten. Your mom said you’re free.”

I shrug, laughing. “Yep. See you then.”

As I’m leaving the store, strawberry tea with popping boba in hand, my phone buzzes. I don’t recognize the caller ID, but I answer the phone anyway as the shop door swings shut behind me. Sounds of people chatting and sipping boba fade away as I give a tentative “hello?”

A woman's voice gushes from the other line. “Hi, Ella, I’m so glad you answered. This is Susan Delamore from church.”

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Delamore.”

She rushes on. “I ran into your mom this morning and she mentioned that you’ve been applying for jobs at various places, but you haven’t heard back from anyone yet.”

“Yes, that’s true.” I slow, confused as to what this has to do with anything.

“Well, remember when you volunteered at Delamore Funerals that one time? Two years ago?”

I think back to when I volunteered at the funeral home that one time, to earn community service hours for Beta club. “Yes…”

I can hear the smile in her voice. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

My feet stall under me, and I lurch forward, catching myself on the side of a park bench before I topple over. “You – what?”

“I’d like to offer you a job at Delamore Funerals. My funeral receptionist just quit, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. For the formalities, you have to apply and come in for an interview, but the job is guaranteed if you want it.”

A job at Delamore Funerals? A funeral home? I sink down onto the bench. Susan’s words echo through my head. The job is guaranteed if you want it.

A job. Guaranteed.

Isn’t this what I want?

But a funeral home, of all places? For the summer? What about the florist, or the cake shop, or…

“Ella?”

I blink. Right. Susan’s still waiting for a reply. Taking in a deep breath, I muster up an answer. “That’s a wonderful offer. Thank you so much. I’ll definitely think about it and get back to you soon.”

“Great! If you have any questions, just ask me. I’d really love to hire you, Ella.”

We end the call and I sit in stunned silence for a moment. My first instinct is to say no, to not even bother applying… but what if this is my only option?

--

“This is beautiful.” Ryleigh squints in the morning sun as we pause on a soft, grassy spot by the pond. It really is the perfect day for a picnic – a soft breeze ruffles our hair, combating the warmth of the sun sparkling off the pond. “Where’s the picnic blanket?”

I look at the basket in her hands, then back up at her face. “Didn’t you bring one?”

“I thought you were going to.”

“You didn’t ask me to.” I show her the bag of strawberries I’m holding. “You said bring fruit and wear something summery.” I gesture at the flowy top I bought last week, paired with jean shorts and sandals, and she nods.

“Yes, and by the way I’m loving the fit. But I’m sure I said to bring a picnic blanket.” Her brow furrows. “I would have, except my aunt had to throw ours out after it got infested with mold.”

I sigh. “So, we don’t have a blanket. We can just sit on the grass.”

Ryleigh’s gaze falls to the grassy meadow, her nose scrunching up. “My dress is new, and I really don’t want to stain it.” She bites her lip, thinking. “Do you have anything in the car we can use?”

I glance back to the nearby parking lot. “Not a picnic blanket, but maybe a sweatshirt or towel you can sit on?” Reaching into my purse, I fish out the keys to my mom’s minivan. “I’ll go check.”

Once Ryleigh is properly situated on my “Life is Better With Matcha” sweatshirt and I’m comfortable on the grass, we unpack the food she brought, chatting about everything – summer, life, memories, and…

“Delamore Funeral Home?” Ryleigh pauses, looking up at me with a distasteful expression.

“Yep.” I open my own container of fruit and set it next to Ryleigh’s plate of cookies. “And the thing is, I really, really want to say no.”

“But you can’t.”

I nod. One thing I love about Ryleigh is that she just gets me. She’s not the type to ask why I can’t say no, she just gets it.

Especially after I’d told her about how excited my mom was when I came home yesterday. She’s so proud she found me a job, and she’s sure I’ll just love it. Plus, my dad told me how glad he is that I’m taking the initiative to earn money so I can get a car.

“I just wish I had other options.” I miserably pop a berry in my mouth, stretching out my legs and propping myself up on my elbows. “I don’t know what to do.”

Ryleigh hands me a sandwich and talks around bites of her own. “Well, think about it. It could be kind of fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. You can…” I give her a look while she searches for something to say. “You can set up the flowers.”

“Yeah, while people are depressed and crying around me. Sounds just as lovely as Morning’s Glory. Which, by the way, I still haven’t heard from.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be sad for this great picnic you set up.” I gaze at our surroundings. “This might be the most beautiful thing we’ve done for your bucket list.”

Ryleigh laughs, lying back to stare up at the blue sky. “Oil painting was a close second, but the scenery here really is amazing.”

I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun, combated by the slight cool breeze. Birds sing from a few scattered trees, their songs mixing to create a beautiful cacophony of sound.

Until a loud squawking interrupts the peace. I open my eyes, and realize it’s not a squawk. It’s a quack, coming from a large white duck. It stands on the edge of the pond, staring at us. Ryleigh’s sitting up too, laughing with her phone out to take pictures.

“It’s so close!” she says, and I reach for my sandwich. The duck chases after the crumbs I throw at it, and we watch in awe as it picks them up with its bill.

I stand, crumbling more bread into my hand and holding it out to the duck. Inching my way forward, I gently say, “Hi, there. Do you want some lunch, too?”

Ryleigh scrambles to her feet, her phone pointed toward me and the duck. It stares at me for a moment, before its gaze flicks to my hand. I toss the crumbs inches away from me, and to my surprise, the duck waddles forward to snatch them up.

When the crumbs are gone, it looks back at me, and I hold out a small piece of bread. “Want some more?”

“I don’t know if you should be feeding it that much…” comes Ryleigh’s cautious voice. “I mean, it’s really cute, but it could be dangerous.”

When the duck doesn’t move, I drop the bread back onto the sweatshirt, dusting my hands together. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

But as I’m starting to sit, the duck suddenly waddles forward, quacking and flapping its wings. Behind it, another duck comes up onto the shore. I freeze as they both approach us.

“They probably want some more food,” says Ryleigh, tossing her phone on the sweatshirt. She addresses the ducks. “Sorry guys, that’s it. The rest is for us.” She picks up a sandwich, taking a bite to emphasize her point.

The ducks’ gazes travel to the sandwich in her hand and they move towards us again, quacking louder now. I have to say, I didn’t know ducks could waddle that fast.

Before we realize what’s happening, one is snapping with its beak at Ryleigh’s sandwich. She drops it, shrieking, and stands. The duck picks up her sandwich and waddles closer to Ryleigh, while she backs away on the grass.

And then before we know it we’re both running through the grass, the ducks chasing us with our sandwiches only halfway in their bills.

This is not the calm, serene picnic I imagined.

It takes ten minutes of running and five of throwing the remains of our bread in the water to make the ducks go away, and by then we’re both exhausted. There’s no way we’re eating any of the food after it’s been picked at by animals. Instead, we take my mom’s car to Chick-Fil-A.

Even after such a traumatic picnic experience, we have to laugh as we slide into a booth with our chicken sandwiches.

“You know, that actually took my mind off my job problem.” I can’t help but smile, swirling a fry in some ketchup. “It was nice to get out and do something crazy again.”

“I promise,” says Ryleigh, giving me a look of mock intensity, “the next thing on my bucket list will not end this way.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to just give up on that this year? With our history of summer bucket lists, anything could be life threatening at this point.”

Of course Ryleigh knows I’d never give up our bucket list tradition, no matter how much I complain about it. But she just smiles and shrugs. “Hey, at least I know where to go if one of us needs a funeral.”

“Hey!” I roll my eyes, and she just laughs. Sobering, I squint at her. “So what is the next step in this evil plan of yours?”

Ryleigh leans back, a satisfied smile lighting up her face. “We’re getting new haircuts. Won’t cost us anything, but has to be completely different than what we have. And the best part is, it’s completely duck-free.”

I suck in a breath through my teeth. “Duck-free does not mean risk-free.”

“Oh, come on. Ella, this is going to be even better than Monochromatic Outfit Month! Believe me, we are going to rock the world.”