Turning on the steps to head inside, she patted him on the top of his head. “I think you could pull off anything.”
That afternoon Victor and Rowan had just finished bringing in the last of her moving boxes into the house when Juniper arrived. Most of the boxes were still scattered across the furniture-less living room, so Juniper had to step over a few to get to them.
“Hey there pretty girl, how are you?” Victor asked happily as he wrapped Juniper into a tight hug and squeezed.
“I’m doing okay,” Juniper replied, her eyes meeting Rowan’sand then diverting away again.
He released her from the hug but kept his hands on her shoulders to get a good look at her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.”
Rowan warmed at Juniper’s smile, even though it wasn’t for her.
Victor pointed to the bundle of flowers Juniper held, various shades of white, cream, pink, and green joined together in a beautiful array. “Are these flowers for me?”
She giggled. “Not these, but I can bring you some this week if you want.”
“Who would turn that down? You grow all these too, Junie?”
“I do.” She met Rowan’s eyes again, scooted past her, and walked toward the kitchen area.
Rowan’s body wanted to propel her towards Juniper. To be near her. To tell her how she felt. But she stayed where she was at.
“Ah, I get it. The wildflower,” Victor acknowledged quietly to Rowan.
He winked and patted his chest in the same spot she had placed the single white aster the night prior into her pocket. Rowan wiped the sweat from her forehead under the brim of her hat in self-consciousness. Was shethatobvious? She was a little surprised he made that connection, but maybe that’s where she got it from — her romantic heart.
Stories she remembered Anita telling about how much he had loved her mom fell into place in her mind, how absolutely devoted to her he’d been, how he’d never made it work with anyone else in the thirty years since. She wasn’t even sure he’d actually tried. And that seemed a little too similar to her own experience to deny.
At least it only took her half that time to come to her senses, to maybe try to make a second chance work. At least she even had the ability to do that. Her heart ached for her dad who didn’t. She finally really understood.
Victor squeezed one of her shoulders before announcing, “Alright, I’ll be in the back unpacking this kid’s million books for the rest of my life if you need me. No furniture,” he teased, “except a bed and a room full of bookcases of course.”
Rowan watched Juniper put her large bag on the counter by the sink, pull out a translucent sea-green vase, and start to fill it with water.
“It reminded me of seaglass, and I thought of you,” Juniper called over her shoulder to her.
Her heart pulled her into the kitchen like she was responding to a siren’s call.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever given me flowers before.”
Juniper turned off the water and turned around to face Rowan. “Really? Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m usually the one who is expected to buy the flowers.”
Rowan shrugged. She liked buying flowers, but this was nice too. She could get used to this — fresh flowers on a kitchen counter every week.
“Oh,” Juniper scrunched up her face and added, “well, I grew these, so I think that makes it different.”
She arranged the small cluster of flowers into the vase, fanning out the flowers so they could be seen in full view, and set it on the middle of the counter.
“Are you… feeling better today?” Rowan asked.
“I am, thank you,” Juniper replied quietly.
She shifted her gaze away from Rowan’s and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Rowan wished it could be her hands in those back pockets.
“Junie, am I…” She took a breath to calm her racing heart. “Am I alone in thinking there’s something going on here?”
