A Bouquet of Love by Janice Thompson Page B

from your brother’s shop,” Mama countered.
    This garnered a couple of grunts from Babbas, as well as some mumbled words in Greek. “We will figure it out, Helena. The point is, we need to get Athena here. She and her husband can come for a visit to see our new place. Cassia will like that.” He gave me a “please go along with me” look. “Won’t you, Cassia?”
    I would love to see Athena again. Very much. And meeting Brock Benson in person sounded pretty appealing. Still, I hated the idea of bringing my cousin here just to use her. She would never forgive me, and I’d never forgive myself.
    â€œI’ve always loved spending time with Athena,” I said. “But maybe we should wait until we have a real plan, Babbas. You know? We don’t want to appear desperate.”
    â€œWaiting is good,” Mama said. “We’re not ready for visitors yet. Besides, where would they stay? Our little apartment isn’t company ready. It’s filled to the brim with people and boxes.”
    â€œAthena and her husband are famous Hollywood writers. They have money. They can stay at a hotel.”
    â€œNiko!” My mother looked horrified by this suggestion. “We can’t put family up at a hotel. It’s just not done. Imagine what your brother would think!” She began to argue the point, insisting that she’d never heard of such a thing.
    I had a feeling Athena and Stephen wouldn’t mind stayingat a hotel. In fact, I felt pretty sure they would prefer that idea to staying in our tiny little apartment that was already crammed full. If we could talk them into coming. I still couldn’t see why they would want to leave California and come to Texas just because Babbas asked them to.
    â€œWe can worry about where they will stay once they accept the invitation,” Babbas said. “In the meantime, I need to create a commercial with a superhero theme. And we will need a jingle. Something catchy.”
    â€œA jingle?” Mama asked.
    â€œSure, you know. You hear them all the time on TV and radio.” He started singing one from an insurance company commercial and Mama nodded.
    Then my father decided to sing every well-known jingle that came to mind. He covered everything from McDonald’s to Burger King to Oscar Mayer Weiner. Soon Mama was singing along. So were my brothers and sisters, who’d drifted in upon hearing the McDonald’s jingle, likely hoping we were going out to eat for a change. Like that would happen.
    When they finally stopped singing, Babbas rose and paced the room. “We need a jingle with a superhero theme. Something catchy. You can help with this, Cassia. You’re musical.”
    I started to argue, but a couple of catchy ideas came to mind. Ten minutes later I’d written a tolerably good jingle for Super-Gyros. Where it had come from, I could not say. Still, Babbas fell in love with it, and even Mama offered a “Wow!” My siblings joined me and before long we were all singing—with harmony, even.
    â€œIt’s perfect, Cassia! And just right with your singing voice on the lead.” Babbas snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Our family will sing the jingle in the commercial!”
    â€œOh no.” No, no, no, no, no. I would not, could not, sing in a commercial for the family business, especially not if my father—
    â€œI’ll wear the Super-Gyros costume and you can sing. It will be perfect.”
    The next thing I knew, we were talking about adding a stage in Super-Gyros where we could perform the song on a regular basis. No thank you. But how could I go about defying him when he looked so excited and so proud of my song?
    â€œThis will save the day, Cassia. Brock Benson will do a cameo in the commercial and your song will play in the background.”
    I had to admit, the idea of my song playing behind Brock Benson did hold some appeal. But from the devilish