Re: Flower Girl: Ella & Carver
"There's that Catholic guilt being well-cultivated," she said, and she moved slightly closer, as if distance made for intimacies of speech. It wouldn't do to have the flowers hear secrets of religion, and her smile was simple, as if she was but a girl playing a game with a boy. "Do you truly believe that helps them? Self-flagellation, self-denial, a soul built on guilt and thinking themselves not worthy?" Her voice dropped inches more. "I will tell you a secret. Most faithful resist that yoke once they grow out of knee socks, and then you're left with very unpleasant people in your pews. The ones who remain are judgmental and overly pious." She straightened, but she gave him a look of concession. "With the exception of the very desperate. They'll grovel, which is sad in its own way, don't you think it so?"
She moved toward the blooms. "I spoke with a woman here, one of your faithful. Sharon, she's called. She tried to tell me she had a relationship with God. A personal one, and I don't understand how relationships can be one-sided." She said the words vacuous. Thinking aloud, and surely nothing more.
She moved to the flowers already in their wooden homes, she touched the purple petal of an iris, and said iris didn't incline its leaves towards her fingers, surely. "Faith, hope, wisdom, courage, admiration," she explained. "Though I think a new love deserves something sweeter, fella." She moved over to some hydrangeas, their purple and pink and white somehow brighter than nature's bright. "I think these better for your jane. They mean enduring grace and beauty." She smiled freckles at him. "You know you won't be able to court a gal if you're married to an itchy brown robe."