“Please, take a closer look. There is no pressure to purchase, we are just trying to spread the word with being a new business and all.”
Megan loved the strong southern drawl with which she spoke.
“How long have youbeen here?”
“Only a couple of weeks.”
“What’s your dog called?” Megan reached towards the window to pet the excitable pooch.
“That’s Dolly.”
“Named after Dolly Parton?”
“You bet.” The woman pointed towards the small sticker on the side of the truck that read,‘I’m working 9–5, justlike Dolly.’
“That’s clever.”
“Thank you. Does anything catch your eye?”
“I’m only here on vacation for another three days. Can any of them last two plane rides and a squashed suitcase back to England?”Megan joked.
“I wish, I would make a lot more money if that were the case, darlin’.” The darling was drawn out to sound more like‘daaaarrrlinn’—she grinned. “Here, wait a minute.”
Megan watched as the florist gathered some Pink Waxflower, Italian Ruscus, White Stocks and Roses. She wrapped them neatly as she had done for the previous customer, adding a little white sticker on the front for extra presentation.
“These are onthe house.”
“What? No, I can’t. Please let me pay for them.”
The woman, whose name badge was now visible, was called Carrie. She held up her hand, protesting. “They’d only get thrown out later tonight, don’t worry. It just gives you something pretty to look at for the next few days.”
“I feel too bad. At least let me leave a tip?” Megan searched around for some cash. Carrie placed her hand onMegan’s arm.
“There is no need. If it makes you feel any better, a pretty face like yours walking around town holding that bouquet is free advertising for me.”
“I don’t know about that, but thank you. Really, it’s really kind of you. You’ve made my day.”
“Then that’s good enough for me.”
“I will take a picture and tag you on social media ifyou’d like?”
Carrie beamed. “That would be great. You have a nice day now.”
“You too.Take care.”
Megan snapped a quick picture in front of the truck and waved goodbye with the flowers in hand. She posted the photo and five minutes later, she had a follow request from Carrie. It wasn’t until then that it dawned on her.Had she just been hit on?Either way, she liked it.
The day before she’d been to Boot Barn, after trying on eight different pairs, the store assistant convinced her to purchase a pair of Idyllwind square-toe Western boots—apparently, Miranda Lambert wore them—that was enough to convince her. Despite the hefty price tag and the guaranteed fact that she would probably never wear them again, it didn’t matter, because she felt like she belonged, even if it was just for a few days—that was worth the expense. She’d also found some vintage cut-off shorts and a plaid shirt in a local thrift store, when pieced together she was pleased withthe outfit.
Passing the Music City Walk of Fame Park, Megan continued the route towards the riverfront. A local she’d met the day before recommended a rooftop breakfast bar that she forgot to write down, but she figured she’d stumble across a suitable place, eventually. Flowers in hand, she continuedto explore.
***
The waitress at Biscuit Love took her order and sped off towards the counter, collecting plates as she went. Megan observed the grace with which she moved, clearly gained through years of experience. She had been warned of the wait outside due to the popularity of the Nashville bistro, and she was surprised to be seated fifteen minutes later. The concrete floors and high ceilings with heavy wood metal-framed tables and chairs gave the place an industrial feel. It was lunchtime and Megan had skipped breakfast, so the burning sensation in her stomach accompanied the rumbling sound like thunder in the distance.
The waitress had been kind enough to explain the menu, which was broadly divided into two categories:“on a biscuit”or not. The concept of biscuit and breakfast together felt unusual, but the reviews had reassured her of a breakfast like no other. Opting for the Southern Benny, which consisted of a biscuit covered in shaved country ham, egg and country-style sausage gravy. Megan saw it as the south’s version of Eggs Benedict—a dish she enjoyed regularlyin England.
Whilst she waited for her food to arrive, she calledNancy back.
