“I’m planning to binge on comfort foods—kale chips and guacamole.”
“Sweetheart, no offense, but kale chips are not comfort food,” Chrissy sassed.
“That’s what I’ve been telling her for the past million years!” Mari said with a sigh as she walked over to unlock the front door and open the shop. “But okay, I’m going to take Chrissy with me to set up a wedding in Wauwatosa—do you need anything from us?”
I shook my head. “No. Have fun! I’ll be here when you get back.”
As they walked out of the back door, an older gentleman with a fedora walked in the front and was quick to take off his hat.
My chest tightened seeing him, and when his stare found mine, he smiled wide. “Lucy,” he said warmly, tipping his hat my way.
“Hi, Ollie. What are you doing here?”
He walked around a bit, studying the flowers in the shop. “I was hoping to buy a few roses for a special lady.” He gave me his charming smile and started whistling as he wandered around the shop. “Though, I’m not certain which ones she’d like. Will you help?”
“Of course. Tell me a little about her.”
“Well, she’s beautiful. She has these eyes that just pull you in, and when she looks at you, she makes you feel like the most important person in the room.”
My heart warmed hearing him talk so endearingly about the woman. As he continued, we walked around the shop, pulling a flower for each facet of her seemingly vibrant personality. “She’s gentle and caring. Has a smile that lights up a room. She’s smart, too, so smart. She’s not afraid to give a helping hand, even when it’s tough. And the last word to describe her…” he said, reaching out and picking out a deep red rose. “Is pure. She’s pure, untainted by the world’s cruelty. Just simply, easily, and beautifully pure.”
I took the rose from him, a grin resting on my lips. “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”
He nodded. “She is indeed.”
I walked to the counter and started to trim the flowers for Ollie as he picked out a red vase. The flowers were an arrangement of different colors and styles—a stunning collection. That was my favorite part of my job: when people came into the store and had no idea what they wanted. Roses were gorgeous, yes, and tulips were pretty, too, but there was something so creatively rewarding about being able to have free range and create a piece that expressed the artistic personality of the customer’s loved one.
As I tied a bow around the vase, Ollie narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re ignoring his calls.”
I grimaced for a second, fumbling with the ribbon. “It’s complicated.”
“Of course it is,” he agreed. “We are, after all, talking about Graham.” He lowered his voice and held his fedora to his chest. “Sweetheart, whatever he did, he’s sorry.”
“He was cruel,” I whispered, the bow not quite perfect enough, leading me to untie the ribbon to begin again.
“Of course he was,” he agreed. “We are, after all, talking about Graham.” He softly snickered. “But then again, he’s Graham, which means he didn’t mean it.”
I didn’t say anything else on the subject. “So, the flowers are $44.32, but I’ll give you the first-time visit discount, bringing it to $34.32.”
“That’s very kind of you, Lucy. Thank you.” He reached into his wallet and handed me the money. Then he placed his fedora back on his head and turned to leave.
“Ollie, you’re forgetting your flowers,” I called after him.
He turned back to me and shook his head. “No, ma’am. A friend of mine asked me to stop in to pick out those for you. I asked him some characteristics about you, and that is the creation that came to be.”
“Graham said those things about me?” I asked, my chest tightening a bit as I stared down at the arrangement.
“Well, he gave me one of the words, and I just kind of gathered the others on my own, based on the few moments we spent together.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head. “Listen, I’m not saying you have to go back, but if you do, you’ll prove him wrong.”
“Prove him wrong?”
“Graham lives a life where he believes everyone leaves. If his past has taught him anything, it’s that. So, a part of him feels relief that you left. After all, he was certain you’d disappear eventually, anyway. That’s why he can’t for the life of him stand me. No matter what, I keep showing up, and it drives him bonkers. So, if you in any way, shape, or form want to get back at Graham for hurting you, the best revenge is proving to him that he’s wrong, that not everyone is going to walk out. I promise you, he’ll act like he hates you for it, but remember: the truth lies within his eyes. His eyes will thank you a million times over.”
“Ollie?”
“Yes?”
“Which word did he give you? To describe me?”