“I don’t see gradual. I see you letting her bully you into working the weekend. Again.”
Julia was the first person to comment on that particular trait, and the first person to challenge her to tackle the issue.
“I don’t mind. I’m saving being assertive for something big and important.”
“You need to start small and build up. Why are you so afraid to stand up to her?”
Her heart thumped harder at the mere thought. “Because then she’ll fire me. I’m not good with conflict.” Or rejection. That was her big one.
“She is not going to fire you, Flora. You’re her biggest asset. Half the customers only come here because of you, so you don’t have to please her the whole time.”
“I think it’s a hangover from constantly trying to please my aunt. My world was a better place when she was happy.” Although her aunt had never been happy as such. It was more that her disapproval levels had fluctuated.
And dealing with her had given Flora useful experience. She was good at handling difficult people. She’d even, on rare occasions, made her aunt smile—the biggest test any people pleaser would face in a lifetime. Causing an upward lift of Gillian’s lips represented the pinnacle of achievement. The people-pleaser’s equivalent of the summit of Everest, the four-minute mile or rowing the Atlantic. Given that the world was full of difficult people, Flora had decided she might yet have reason to be grateful to her aunt for providing her with so much practice.
Julia didn’t agree. “I teach my kids to stand up for what they want and believe in. Also that they’re responsible for their own happiness.”
“Exactly. And I’m at my happiest when the people around me are happy.”
“Saying yes doesn’t make you happy. It just makes the other person happy and removes you from conflict. And you feel bad about yourself for not having enough courage to say no.”
“Thanks Ju. I didn’t feel bad about myself, but now I do.”
“I’m being honest. If I’d ever met your aunt I would have told her what I thought of her.”
Flora winced as she imagined that particular confrontation. “My aunt wasn’t exactly warm and affectionate, that’s true, but she was my only family. She took me in when I had no one. She felt that I owed her, and she was right.”
“I’m not sure there should be ‘debt’ between family members, but if there is then you paid that debt a thousand times over. Okay, I get it, she gave you a home, but she gained a live-in carer. And Celia is not your aunt.”
“If I’d said no she would have asked you, and you have Freddie’s indoor track event this Sunday, and Geoff isn’t working so you’ll be having his mother over and doing Sunday lunch, and you promised Kaitlin you’d take her to buy a dress for that family thing you have at Easter.”
Julia gasped as a thorn pierced her finger. “How come you know my schedule better than I do? Hearing you say it aloud makes me realize how crazy my life is.”
Flora said nothing. She’d do anything, just about anything, for a slice of what Julia had. Not the craziness—she could reproduce that easily enough—but the closeness. The interwoven threads of a functioning, healthy family created something bigger than the individual. Something strong and enduring. To her aunt, Flora had been a loose thread. Something to be brushed off.
“You have a beautiful family.”
“Are you kidding? My family is a pain in the neck. Freddie has a girlfriend so now they’re sprawled on the sofa every night holding hands and gazing at each other, and Eric keeps teasing him so you can imagine how that pans out, and Kaitlin—well, I could go on. Let’s just say I envy you not having to share your space with anyone. You go home, and it’s just you.”
“Yes.” Flora watched as Julia placed the roses carefully, shaping the bouquet. “Just me.” This was the life she’d dreamed of living when she’d been sharing a house with her aunt. She had an apartment of her own. Small, lacking in charm, but all hers. She had friends. Her diary was filled with activities and invitations. She should be grateful and happy. She was lucky, lucky, lucky.
“When you go home at night everything in your apartment is exactly the way you left it. No one has moved stuff around, or buried it under piles of their own crap. You don’t have a dozen pairs of sneakers tripping you up when you walk through the door, no one banging on the door yelling ‘Mom!’ when you’re trying to use the bathroom, no one sprawled over every inch of the sofa.”
“No one bangs on my door, that’s true, and it’s just me on the sofa.” Flora removed a couple of stray leaves that Julia had missed. “Brilliant really, because I can stretch my legs out and flop like an octopus and no one complains.”
“I’m surrounded by chaos. You have blissful silence.”
“Blissful.”
“When you choose flowers for yourself, they’re always beautiful. If I’m lucky, Geoff sometimes buys me a bunch from the convenience store.”
But at least he’d bought her the flowers.
No one had ever bought Flora flowers. She spent her days producing stunning arrangements for other people, but was never the recipient.
“I read the other day that single women with no children are the happiest of anyone.”
“Mmm.” Who had they asked?