“Why did you order so many flowers?” I asked, feeling the tickle of a sneeze coming.
“I want it to feel magical like we’re in a garden instead of just a brick courtyard,” Chrissy huffed, taking the bouquet from my arms.
I sneezed; the relief was instant.
“Well, you’re in charge of them while I work on the lights,” I smiled.
Chrissy has always loved to make even dinner parties extravagant. She had enthusiastically planned the entire evening, from styling to the menu, and decided on a Midsummer Night’s Dream theme. I folded like a chair when she insisted on picking my clothing for the event, knowing she would also insist on doing my hair and makeup. There was no arguing with Chrissy on these matters, ever the hostess, even if we were hosting in my flat instead of hers. I don’t have an outdoor space, but your courtyard will be perfect. There was no arguing with her logic.
I ran through my to-do list. The homemade lemonade was infused with mint and rosemary. The honey and fig tart was set up in the fridge. The cheese was out to get to room temp. The dishes Chrissy and I picked up in Camden the day before were clean and stacked, ready to go onto the table. I just needed to finish the last of the summer salads I had made before working on hanging the lights up.
After handling the flowers, I rewashed my hands and wiped them on my apron to finish chopping the simple cucumber, tomato, and avocado salad. This was the easiest and last salad to prepare. I added olive oil, garlic, and lemon juice before mixing it and putting it in the fridge.
Taking off my apron, I walked out to the patio. Chrissy had constructed a long bench seat made of palettes against one courtyard wall with blankets and pillows.
“I still can’t believe you bought all this for a dinner party. We could have done it picnic style out here.” I said, picking up the boxes of lights.
“It’s an investment for future dinner parties,” Chrissy said, smiling at me as she started arranging flowers and candles in random vases, wine bottles, and candle holders.
As I worked on hanging the lights, I thought about the prospects for the future. Chrissy was a great friend and wanted to introduce me to as many of her friends as possible. She was a social butterfly, whereas I preferred a smaller, closer group of friends. She knew it was hard for me to move to London, with her as my only friend to turn to upon arriving. She had even arranged for my nanny job that would sponsor me with a work visa when I had told her I planned to come permanently.
We had known each other since childhood, and our fathers worked remotely at the same company. Summers were spent taking turns to visit each other across the pond. As Chrissy and I became teenagers, we began keeping in touch with email throughout the year. She was like the sister I never had, and now that I was in London with her, we were even closer.
Chrissy spent every free moment with me in the two months I had been here. I slept on her couch for the first two weeks before we found a flat in Marylebone near my job in Mayfair for me. Camden had been lovely, but it was even nicer to walk to work without taking the bus or the tube. On weekends, when Chrissy wasn’t doing self-tapes or working a job, she would take me to explore London or buy furniture for my flat, which was mostly furnished now. Hence her insistence on a dinner party.
She was introducing me to her friends from university; some were in the industry, and some had left for more stable incomes. It would be an interesting night to hang out with grown-up theater kids. It had me slightly overwhelmed, but I knew I needed the kick in the butt from Chrissy to socialize.
I finished with the last strand of lights and helped Chrissy move the table and chairs into place.
“This is going to look stunning,” Chrissy said, moving some of the flowers and candles onto the table. Why don’t you go shower while I set up the table?”
I adjusted the straps of my dress, feeling naked, “Chrissy, I don’t know about this dress.”
She stepped out of the bathroom, applied her lipstick, and rubbed her lips together. "You look perfect, babes.”
“I feel like I’m not wearing clothes. I look like I’m wearing a nightie without a bra,” I shrugged, moving pieces of my hair from my face.
“Hazel, you look amazing. Please don’t change,” she begged, her eyes going wide.
“Fine,” I pursed my lips, returning to my vanity.
“Put some highlighter on your collarbones and shoulders. You’ll look like you’re glowing in the lighting,” she said, stepping back into the bathroom.
I brushed it on as someone rang the bell.
“Shit,” Chrissy said, fluffing her curls.
She slipped on her heels as she headed to the front door. I followed behind her, the straps of my heels already smarting, I was thankful the evening would be spent sitting mostly. She opened the door to a smiling couple.
“Lucy. Adam. I’m so glad you could make it,” she said leaning in for kisses as they stepped through the doorway.
The next twenty minutes was a flurry of conversation and introductions as more people arrived. Soon we were a party of nine gathered in the courtyard with drinks in our hands. I was chatting with Camille, Chrissy’s roommate from uni. The bell rang again, and Chrissy was in a conversation with Mark and Adelaide.
“I’ll get it,” I said setting my drink down.
I adjusted the straps of my dress, smoothing the front down as I walked to the door. Opening it I felt the air rush from my lungs.
“Hello, I’m Luke. You must be Hazel.” He said stepping forward.