Flower Girl World: Rosie and the Wedding Day Rescue Read online

  Flower Girl World: Rosie and the Wedding Day Rescue

  Copyright © 2011 Lynelle Woolley

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Inquiries should be addressed to:

  Markelle Media, LLC

  12405 Venice Blvd., #350, Los Angeles, CA 90066

  [email protected]

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011913907

  ISBN: 978-0-9833116-4-5

  www.FlowerGirlWorld.com

  Markelle Media

  Chapter One

  “Rosie! Move!” Max cried out.

  Max was trying to play a video game on the TV while his younger sister, Rosie, was inspecting the couch with a magnifying glass.

  “Max, scoot over a little bit.”

  “ROSIE!”

  “A-ha! Just as I suspected!” Rosie shouted. She reached between two cushions and pulled out a small, sparkling object. “I found Mom’s earring!”

  “Great,” Max said. “Now will you get off the couch?”

  Their mom rushed in from the kitchen. “Did I hear you found my earring? Where was it?”

  “In the couch,” Rosie said proudly, handing over the missing piece of jewelry. “You said the last time you wore it was Sunday. That was the day we all watched movies together. I figured this room was the best place to look.”

  “Rosie Anderson, you’re an expert detective!” her mom said, giving her a huge hug.

  Rosie beamed with delight. It was her dream to become a real detective and one day work for the FBI. She put her magnifying glass back into her special detective kit. It was a green tote bag filled with all sorts of gadgets, including binoculars, a flashlight, and fingerprint powder. Rosie carried her kit with her everywhere because a good detective is always prepared.

  “Sweetie, I have something for you too,” Mrs. Anderson said, giving Rosie an envelope made of delicate paper. Inside, Rosie found a card with a picture of a girl wearing a lavender dress. She was holding a basket overflowing with petals.

  Rosie opened the card and read the inside. “It’s from Greta. She’s asking me to be a flower girl in her wedding.”

  Greta Goodwin was Rosie’s favorite babysitter. She was a great hide-and-go-seek player; she made delicious ginger snap cookies; and she liked to climb trees as much as Rosie. Greta was a college student in Rosie’s hometown of Washington D.C. Now she was graduating and marrying her boyfriend, Mark. Rosie wondered if she’d ever play hide-and-go-seek with her babysitter again.

  “Why would Greta want me to be a flower girl?” Rosie asked. “I’ve never been one before.”

  “Being a flower girl is a very special honor,” her mom replied. “Just because you haven’t done it before doesn’t mean that it won’t be fun and exciting.”

  Rosie groaned. She really liked Greta, but she didn’t like trying new things. There was always a chance that something could go wrong. She’d tried ballet once, but the tutu gave her a rash. Another time, she had tried a baking class and accidentally spilled cake batter all over herself and the cooking teacher! Rosie preferred to stick to the thing she loved best: detective work.

  “Why do I have to try anything new?” Rosie asked. “My life is good the way it is.”

  “Rosie, trying new things is what life is all about,” her mother replied. “Have you considered that Greta isn’t even family, yet she likes you so much she wants you to be in her wedding?”

  Rosie thought about her mother’s comment. She didn’t want to disappoint her favorite babysitter.

  “Well…What would I have to do?” she asked.

  “In a traditional wedding, the flower girl walks down the aisle right before the bride and throws petals on the ground. In a way, the flower girl announces the bride’s arrival. That’s a very important job, don’t you think?”

  Rosie liked the idea of being important. And throwing petals didn’t seem so hard. Maybe she could do it for Greta’s sake. Rosie tucked her light-brown hair behind her ears and announced, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Greta will be thrilled.” Then her mother added, “When she gave me the card, we talked about all the details. She wants to meet in a couple of weeks to pick out the flower girl dress.”

  “HAH!” Max fell off the couch in a fit of laughter. “Rosie has to wear a dress?!”

  Max knew his sister well. She was not a big fan of dresses. To be a detective, Rosie had to crawl on the ground and hide in all sorts of places. Those were not good activities for a dress.

  “Max, stop laughing and get off the floor!” Mrs. Anderson said as she returned to the kitchen. “Rosie is going to be a beautiful flower girl. She only has to wear a dress for one day, and it will make Greta very happy.”

  Rosie felt dizzy. She fell back on the couch and covered her face with her hands.

  “Oh, no,” she thought. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  Chapter Two

  It was storming on the day that Rosie and her mom planned to meet Greta. When they arrived at the mall, the place was packed. Rosie remembered one other time when it had been this crowded. It was the day teen pop star Gaby Snow was there to sign autographs. As one of Gaby’s biggest fans, Rosie waited in line for two hours to meet her, with no bathroom breaks!

  Rosie wished she were seeing Gaby today instead of buying a dress. As she and her mom walked through the mall, Rosie dragged her rain boots as if they were filled with slushy mush.

  “Think of it as detective work,” her mom said, walking briskly. “You’re on the search for the perfect flower girl dress.”

  Rosie scowled. Dress shopping was not detective work; it was torture!

  “Rosie, we have to hurry. We don’t want to keep the other flower girls waiting.”

  Rosie froze right in her tracks. “What?” she asked. “I didn’t know there were other flower girls.”

  “Yes, there are two,” her mom said, grabbing Rosie’s hand to pull her along. “They are from out of town, and they’re here today to help pick out the flower girl dress. Isn’t that great?”

  “What’s so great about it?” Rosie said under her breath. She didn’t like surprises. And now she was afraid there might be more.

  “This must be it,” said Mrs. Anderson, stopping in front of Bettina’s Boutique.

  Rosie’s mouth dropped open. It looked like someone had set off a pink bomb inside the store. There were pink walls, pink decorations, pink carpet, and, of course, pink dresses everywhere. Rosie was planning her escape when a saleswoman with curly, carrot-colored hair approached them.

  “Hello, ladies. I’m Bettina. How can I help you?” The saleswoman’s voice squeaked with glee.

  “We’re meeting Greta Goodwin to pick out a flower girl dress,” Rosie’s mother replied, looking around the store for Greta.

  “She isn’t here yet, but this young lady is waiting for her too.”

  Bettina motioned across the room. Sitting in a lounge chair was a girl with big, brown eyes and two long, blond braids. In her lap Rosie could see a huge, fluffy purple ball of yarn. The girl was busy knitting.

  Rosie’s mom approached the girl, dragging Rosie behind her.

  “Hello, I’m Mrs. Anderson, and this is my daughter, Rosie. Are you in Greta Goodwin’s wedding too?”

  “I’m Iris,” the girl replied. “I’m one of Greta’s flower girls. Greta is from Philadelphia, just like me. She was my babysitter before she went to college.”

  Mrs. Anderson grinned. “You and Rosie hav
e a lot in common. What are you knitting? It’s beautiful, don’t you think, Rosie?”

  Rosie knew her mom was trying to get her to talk to Iris. Instead of answering, she responded with a smile, the kind where the sides of the mouth go up and down really fast.

  Iris didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s a scarf.”

  Iris got up to show off her knitting. Rosie wasn’t interested in the scarf, but something else caught her eye.

  Iris was wearing a T-shirt with sequins and a picture of Gaby Snow! “I like your shirt,” Rosie blurted out.

  “Thanks,” said Iris, grinning. “I decorated it myself. My mom owns a flower and craft store, so we make stuff all the time.”

  “Where is your mom?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

  “She’s shopping somewhere in the mall.” Iris looked at Rosie and rolled her eyes. “I guess there aren’t enough shoe stores back in Philadelphia.”

  This made Rosie laugh. Her own mother was the exact same way about shopping.

  Iris reached under the chair and pulled out a purple felt bag filled with beads, glue, scissors, and yarn. It reminded Rosie of her detective kit, which was hanging over her shoulder.

  “I keep all my projects in my craft bag. Do you want to see the scrapbook I’m making for the wedding?” Iris asked.

  “Sure,” Rosie started to say. “I—”

  But just then, a loud noise turned everyone’s eyes to the front of the store.

  “HI, Y’ALL! WE’RE HERE!”

  Chapter Three

  The greeting roared out like thunder from a dark-haired girl who was wearing a red top with a cheetah print skirt.

  “Honey, don’t shout!” said a woman with a Southern twang. She had very big, black hair.

  Two little boys, who looked exactly alike, started running all over the store. Rosie watched as they ducked in and out of clothing racks, trying to tackle each other. Then one of them decided to use Bettina as a human shield.

  “RICKY! RANDY! STOP IT AT ONCE!” This time, the roar came from the lady with the big hair.

  The boys stopped immediately.

  Bettina looked relieved. After smoothing out her dress, she cleared her throat and asked the woman, “How can I help you?”

  “We’re here to meet Greta Goodwin.”

  Rosie’s mom stepped in. “That’s why we’re here too.” She introduced herself, Rosie, and Iris.

  “We’re the Rubios,” the girl piped up. “This is my mother, Regina, and these are my brothers, Ricky and Randy.” She gave the boys a big-sister glare. “My name is Starrina Rubio, but I go by Starr Ruby. It’s a fabulous stage name, don’t you think?”

  Rosie wasn’t sure if Starr really expected an answer.

  “We’re from San Antonio, Texas,” Starr went on. “Greta lived with us last summer. She was supposed to be doing research at the university, but she took lots of breaks to play with me. I’m so excited to be in her wedding. I’ve never been a flower girl before, but as my daddy says, I was born to perform. I’ve been practicing my flower girl walk every day. Do you want to see?”

  But before Starr could take a step, there were more shouts from the front of the store.

  “Rosie! Starr! Iris!” It was Greta. Her blue eyes sparkled as she rushed over to the group. Rosie was the first to give the bride-to-be a big hug. For a moment, Rosie even forgot about being a flower girl.

  After greeting everyone, Greta said, “I’d like you all to meet Amber. She’s my second cousin and my maid of honor.”

  Greta motioned to a tall, thin young woman with straight, black hair. She was speaking into a red cell phone that had charms dangling from a chain – a shoe, a shopping bag, and a nail polish bottle.

  Amber nodded to the group, and then quickly went back to her phone call. Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Rubio wandered over to the lounge chairs to chat.

  “What’s a maid of honor?” Iris asked Greta.

  “And what’s a second cousin?” added Starr.

  Rosie was glad they’d asked, because she didn’t know either.

  “Amber’s mom and my mom are first cousins, so that makes Amber and me second cousins,” answered Greta. “And a maid of honor is like the bride’s special assistant. She helps the bride make decisions and get ready on the wedding day. She even holds the groom’s ring until it’s needed during the ceremony.”

  “But Ricky and Randy are the ring bearers. Isn’t that their job?” Starr asked.

  Greta smiled. “It’s not that I don’t trust them, Starr.” She spoke softly so the boys wouldn’t overhear. “But the twins are only six. I think it’s better if they hold fake rings. Amber can be in charge of the real groom’s ring. And Mark’s best man will hold mine.”

  “I don’t trust my brothers either!” Starr blurted out.

  Rosie looked at Iris and Starr, and they all giggled together. The twins did seem very young and wild.

  A second later, Amber finally ended her phone call. “Sorry,” she said. “I had to cancel my nail appointment to come here today. It’s been so hard to reschedule. What’s happening?”

  “I was just about to ask my flower girls which dresses they like,” Greta said, looking around the store. “I want their recommendations so we can choose the perfect one. The flower girl dress is a very important part of the wedding.” Then Greta turned to Rosie, Iris, and Starr. “So, girls, what do you think?”

  Rosie’s heart started doing flip-flops in her chest. “Uh-oh,” she thought. “Now what do I do?”

  Chapter Four

  This was the moment Rosie had been dreading all morning. She didn’t know the first thing about choosing a dress.

  But Starr jumped right in. She proudly held up a dress with a zebra print top, a leather belt, and a sparkly black skirt. “I love this one, don’t y’all?”

  Rosie thought it looked like something Gaby Snow would wear in a rock concert – not a flower girl dress. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to hurt Starr’s feelings.

  “Hmmm…” Greta said as she examined it. “It’s very unique, Starr.” She glanced over at Iris. “What’s your choice?”

  Iris reached for a pink gown with flowers along the sash. “I like this one. The rosette appliqué is so cool.”

  “Rosette appliqué? What’s that?” thought Rosie. She had no idea what Iris was talking about.

  “That gown comes in a variety of colors,” Bettina piped in.

  “It’s lovely,” Greta said. Then she turned to Rosie. “Which dress do you like?”

  “Uh…” Rosie’s face turned red. Greta had said that the flower girl dress was an important part of the wedding. Rosie didn’t want to ruin everything by picking the wrong one. Everyone was waiting, so she had to choose something.

  Finally, Rosie pointed to the plainest dress in the store. It was white…and that was about it. “What do you think of this one?”

  “It’s nice,” Greta responded. But Rosie saw her glance back at the dress that Iris had picked out.

  “Amber.” Greta turned to her cousin, who was back on the phone. “I need your help.”

  Amber put a hand over the speaker. “It’s Nick. The only time he can confirm our weekend plans is now. He’s such a busy boyfriend.”

  Greta sighed. “The girls each picked out a dress. Which one do you think would work best?”

  Amber hadn’t been paying attention. “Um…I like her choice.” She pointed to Starr, who was closest to her. Then she went back to her call.

  Starr beamed from ear to ear. Greta didn’t seem as pleased. She faced the girls and said, “I think all three dresses are beautiful, but the one Iris chose will match the flowers at the ceremony. Let’s go with that one.”

  Rosie’s heart sank to the bottom of her rain boots. Her dress choice was a big failure. She had no idea why Greta had asked her to be in the wedding.

  Bettina led the girls into the dressing room. She had each one try on an oversized sample gown. Iris and Starr didn’t complain, but when it was Ro
sie’s turn, she couldn’t wait to get it off again. It was way too big and very uncomfortable. As Bettina pinned and poked her, Rosie looked at herself in the mirror. Besides the dress, she was wearing her rain boots and a big frown. She did not look like a perfect flower girl.

  When Bettina finished fitting Rosie, she announced, “Girls, I want to welcome you to Flower Girl World.”

  “What’s that?” asked Starr. Rosie and Iris were curious too.

  “Flower Girl World is like a special club. Any young lady can join, but when you’re in an actual wedding, you officially become a member.”

  This news made Rosie smile. Finally, there was something good about being a flower girl.

  “How does it work?” asked Iris.

  “As members, it’s your duty to have fun at the wedding. Also, because you’re sharing this special experience with each other, you must try to stay in touch in the future. And finally, the most important rule of all: You have to love everything about being a flower girl.”

  “Awesome!” exclaimed Starr and Iris together.

  But Rosie said nothing. How could she be part of Flower Girl World if she didn’t love everything about being a flower girl?

  Rosie crossed her arms as she looked back in the mirror. “I don’t think I can do this,” she thought.

  Chapter Five

  “Honey, it’s time to wake up. Today’s the big day!” Mrs. Anderson said.

  It was the morning of Greta’s wedding, and Rosie was still in bed, buried under a huge pile of pillows. At first, Rosie didn’t move. But then she let out an enormous cough that easily could have woken up the neighbors.

  “I’m sick. I better stay in bed,” Rosie said through her nose.

  Her mom dug through the pillows to kiss her on the forehead.

  “You don’t feel hot to me. Maybe you should eat some breakfast.” She pulled down Rosie’s sheets and grabbed her hands to help her sit up. “You don’t want to be late for the wedding, do you?”

  It had been three months since the dress shopping trip, and Rosie wasn’t feeling any better about being a flower girl.