"Call me crazy," my mom said, loosening the strap of one of her shoes. "But I'm thinking they might go the distance."

"Soojung Bae." Wooyoung gave her a warning look. "Don't you dare tell me you've become an optimist. I don't think I can take it."

"Never," she replied, as he pour the rest of the wine to both their glasses, then dropped the bottle into the ice bucket. "I just got that sense. They don't seem like the divorce type."

"Which is the same as being married happily, yes?"

My mom thought about this as she took a sip of her drink. "I don't think it's that simple. There's a whole spectrum between those two, at least in my experience. Like all of the variations of gray."

Wooyoung didn't seem to buy it, even before he said, "Gray is grey, as far as I'm concerned."

"I disagree." She eased the other strap, wincing as she did so. "I remember being so unhappy at times in my own marriage, for various reasons. And yet the thought of it ending of choosing to do that . . . I never would've thought of it. And if I had, I'm sure I would have thought about the worse option."

"Worse than being unhappy?"

"Well, yes," she replied. "Like, in a marriage, it's not just whether you see the glass as half-full or half-empty. It's whether you see it those two ways, or any of the other endless fractions that are possible."

Wooyoung winced. "This conversation is making my head pound. I give them six years. And she leaves, for someone else. Three kids."

My mom leaned her head to the side, thinking. "I don't know. What do you think, Suzy?"

I blinked, not expecting to be join in. This was their game, not mine, even though I had seen Tiffany and her groom laughing happily as they climbed onto the car to leave together. For them, and her in particular . . . I wished they'd always put each other first. Out loud, thought, I said, "I have no idea."

"Smart girl." Wooyoung raised his glass to me. "She who doesn't gamble can never lose."

"Or win," my mom pointed out. 

"Details," he replied, and they both laughed, then clinked glasses.

I felt a yawn coming on and reached up, covering my mouth, wishing we could go ahead and do our final sweep so we, too, could head home. Before that would happen, though, I had to collect all the vases we'd rented from the tables, and I wasn't about to do it alone. Sehun, however, was nowhere in sight.

Just as I thought, I heard voices from over by the back door where Vivi had escaped. When I turned, there Sehun was with, of all people, Jessica the annoying maid of honor. She was holding her shoes in her hand and the thrown bouquet - which, Wooyoung predicted, she'd dived for it. As Sehun said something to her, she tipped her head back and laughed again, putting a hand on his arm.

There's something messy about people at the end of weddings. Clothes, once pressed, are rumpled and creased. Hair escapes from hairstyles and gets wild from dancing. Makeup runs, as do stockings and tights, and women almost always shed their shoes, men their jackets. There's nothing neat about that feeling when the finiteness of the event hits and you're suddenly more aware than ever that tomorrow is just another regular day. Maybe this was what made people drag out the night, stretching the time left a little longer. I understood it: I'd done it. But we're working here, not attending. Sehun could get messy off the clock. I wanted to go home.

"Hey," I called out, and they both looked over at me. "Let's grab these vases so we can start getting out of here."

"Sure thing, boss," he replied. "Be there in five seconds."

The boss thing was new, since the incident earlier when I'd told him that no, he couldn't accept when one of the bridesmaid asked him to dance. I assumed he'd known this already, having extended the same offer to me at his own mother's wedding. My assumptions were always wrong when it came to Sehun.

"No dancing?" he wined, once I'd told him to decline. Still, I could feel the bridesmaid, ever hopeful, hovering behind me. "Aren't we here to make sure the party is perfect?"

"You really think that much of your conga skills?"

"Well, no," he replied, although clearly, he did. "but a good wedding is at least ninety-five percent based on a great dance floor experience. I can help with that."

In the business less than a week and he was quoting statistics. Made-up ones, but statistics. "We're not here to enjoy the party. We're here to make sure everyone else does."

"What if their enjoyment could be enhanced by us contributing our own?"

"It doesn't work that way," I said, as a girl in their late twenties, wearing a pink dress, began crossing the dance floor in his direction, that look on her face. What was he, a dancing magnet? "Just politely say no, tell them you're working, and move off the dance floor. If you're not here, you can't be asked."

He pointed at me. "That's my motto in general when it comes to dancing. You have to put yourself out there!" I looked at his finger. He lowered it, slowly. "I mean, unless you're working. Sorry, boss."

"I'm not your boss," I grumbled, walking to the buffet line. When I looked back, he was shaking his head, smiling, as the girl in pink tried to lead him farther into the shifting crowd. When he backed away, she made a sad face, then pretended to wipe a tear.

Just recalling this was making me even crankier, so I got to my feet, collecting the vase from the table where I'd been sitting, then the one next to it. I was all set to snap at Sehun as he finally did come over, but when I saw he was carrying three others, one in each hand and another pressed to his chest. "Where should I pour these out?" he asked.

"I just put them in the crate for now and we'll do it outside," I said. I always hated a wedding when we had to collect equipment after the fact, preferring the ones my mom called Zero Fingerprint, where we just left it all for the venue to deal with. As I picked up another vase, I saw Jessica walking the room, shoes on now, the bouquet dangling down beside her. "What was she saying to you?"

"Who?" I nodded at her. "Jessica? Nothing much. Just wondering where she could grab a martini at this late hour. I told her I knew just the place."

"You're going out with her tonight?"

"It's just a drink. And a ride for me and Vivi, which is a good thing. Our dogs are tired."

I walked over to the wooden rack we'd stored under the cake table and slid the vases into them. The flowers, white daises mixed with those peonies I'd loved, had held up well, still perky as they bobbed in their water.

"So what happens to these now?" Sehun asked, as he added his vases to the rack.

"The flowers?" I questioned. "Usually we toss them."

"Really? Seems wasterful."

"Maybe," I said. "But after picking them up, arranging them, putting them out on the tables, and then collecting them back up, I feel like our relationship has run its full course."

I could sense him watching me as I slid another vase in, a few petals falling off one sunflower as I did so. "Do you look at everything in terms of coupling and uncoupling?"

I shrugged. "Unavoidable effect of the business, I guess. Grab those across the room, will you? I'll get this side."

"On it, boss." This time, I didn't have the energy to correct him.

"I need to go to the restroom, so I'll take final sweep," Wooyoung called as he and my mom, ritual completed, got up from their chairs. "What's left besides that and vases?"

"Cake top from the fridge," Eomma told him. "Tiffany's mother is supposed to come by the office for it first thing Monday morning."

"And then we're done," he replied, holding up a hand. She gave him a high five - the champagne was showing - and they headed in their separate directions as Sehun and I finished filling the rack and carried it outside to the van. There, in the parking lot light, we dumped the water out of each vases, putting the flowers on the curb. By the time we're done, all I could smell were the flowers.

"So long, flowers," Sehun told the blooms, a sad look on his face. "It's not you, it's us."

I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything, instead focusing on getting the rack secured for the trip back to the office. By the time Wooyoung and my mom came out, I'd slipped my feet out of the backs of my own shoes, feeling ever closer to the night's end and my barefoot drive home.

"Good job, team," Eomma said as she pulled her keys out of her purse. "Thanks to Sehun and Suzy in particular for finding a lost child."

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied, giving her a salute. "It was the least I could do for the company."

Wooyoung laughed. "I like this kid. So dedicated!"

The child wouldn't have been lost if it wasn't for his dog, I wanted to say. I didn't.

"Monday," my mom continued, "we turn our full attention to the Somin Jeon Wedding. It's a double hander, with a very deatil-oriented bride. So rest."

With that, Wooyoung climbed into the van, taking off his suit jacket, while my mom headed toward her car. I reached back, taking down the bun I always wore when working, then rang a hand through the locks as I looked for my own keys. When I looked up, Sehun was getting to his feet, a bunch of the discarded flowers in his arms. He'd wrapped them with a crumpled program, fashioning a huge, trailing bouquet, which he held out to me.

"Oh," I gasped, suddenly feeling bad about how short I'd been with him all night. Not that it was exactly proper to give a co-worker flowers, but still, a nice gesture. "You shouldn't -"

"No?" He looked down at them. "You said you were throwing them out, so I thought it was okay if I took them."

I heard footsteps, and then Jessica stepped out from behind the next row of cars. "Sehun? You ready to go get that drink?"

He was still looking at me. "Of course," I said. "It's fine."

"See you Monday, Suzy," he said, then walked over to her, holding the flowers out in greeting. Taking them, she ducked her head down to breathe in the scent, and I thought of her waiting for the bride to throw the bouquet earlier, how she'd gone into a crouch, eyes sharp, determined to be the lucky one. It was so calculated, so different from this, unexpected in that way only weddings could be.

"Later," I answered, not that either of them heard me as they walked over to the loading bay, I assumed to get Vivi. I waited until they were out of sight before I walked back to the curb, where all the flowers still lay, petals around them. I picked up one daisy, succulent, and a sunflower, then thought better and left them where they were. There's a difference between things given and those you simply find. Jessica knew it, and I did, too. I never expected anything from anyone. Which was not the same thing as not wanting, ever, to be surprised.