“Hey.” I let my eyes drift around the store. “It’s just you?”
“Don’t be so bummed,” he says, a grin tugging on his lips.
“Oh, no, I thought…” I hold up the pink box. “I brought presents.”
“Yes, you did,” he says as he claps his hands together, clearly delighted. “And I accept your enthusiasm on behalf of the shop.”
I laugh and set the donuts on the counter. “Enjoy. There’s a ‘Unicorn’ donut in there as well as a chocolate glazed. Both for Theo only, okay?”
Charlie’s smile turns fond. “When he comes in after school this afternoon, I’ll be happy to give them to him.”
I take a bite of a glazed donut and look around the shop, trying to hide my disappointment. “Where’s Juliette?”
Charlie sips his coffee, never taking his eyes off me as he sets it back down. “She’ll be here soon. She overslept.”
My heart skips, grateful she’s coming in, I think. “She did?”
“It was a busy weekend,” Charlie says with a whistle. “Your video was a hit. Have you seen that it has ninety-five thousand views now?”
“Seriously?” I whip my phone out and tap open the app so I can check for myself. “Oh, wow. That’s crazy!”
“Plants and ice hockey,” Charlie says with a shrug of his right shoulder. “Who knew?”
“Not me.” I chuckle as I put Juliette’s coffee next to the register. “She’s juggling a lot of plates, isn’t she?”
“She is, because she’s had to.” Charlie tilts his head, studying me. “I’m sure by now if she hasn’t told you, you’ve found out about the jumbotron incident, yes?”
I nod. “Yeah. I know.”
“A lot of people forget that behind the embarrassment of that jumbotron moment was a marriage, a family, that fell apart.” He sighs. “After it happened, she had to rebuild her whole life. Her ex had blown it all up, and it was so public that she couldn’t protect Theo from it. Or herself. So she took the hit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, she’d had this shop for about six months when it happened. I’d just started working for her and watched as people came into the shop just to look at her. ‘Look’ is kind, actually—more like they would stare, take pictures. Didn’t buy a thing. They wanted to be near the woman whose heart had been ripped out on national television, give her their opinions of her marriage and how she can do better next time.”
My jaw tightens. I can see her with her shoulders slumped, lips firmly pressed together but trying to smile through all of it for her son, if for no one else.
“She was depressed for a long time. Parents whispered at school functions, kids asked Theo why his dad was so famous suddenly. We all know that man was ‘famous’ around theirdinner tables because those people needed something to talk about.” Charlie goes on quietly, “She would only go home, then to work, with trips to the school for Theo as needed. Vivian and I had to drag her back into the world. She’s strong, Sawyer, comes off as grumpy to most, but she’s guarded. With very good reason.”
I swallow. Suddenly, the plant shop feels different. Not just warm and charming, but hard-won.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m beginning to get that.”
Charlie’s eyes soften. “I can see that you do.”
He’s about to say something else when we’re interrupted by the jangle of the bell over the door. I pivot on my heel to find Juliette standing in the doorway, one hand still on the handle and the other clutching a piece of paper, like she hasn’t quite decided whether she’s arriving or interrupting. Her hair is twisted up in that barely-contained way that tells me Charlie wasn’t lying when he said she overslept. She looks soft. Real. Refreshed, unarmed, and absolutely gorgeous.
I’m also suddenly very aware that Charlie and I were just talking about her.
“Oh,” she says, eyes flicking between us. “Wow. I guess I am running late.”
“No,” I say too fast. “Yes? I mean—hi.”
Charlie smiles at her, warmly, as he nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. “Good morning, Juliette.”
Something about the way she looks at us makes my chest do a little squeeze. Like she’s walked into a room where people were saying her name out loud and she doesn’t know if that’s safe yet.
So I do what I shouldn’t do, but it’s the thing I’m good at: I conjure up a panic distraction.
