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“I feel like Henry’s presence is still here in the shop,” I said. “And I know he would’ve been glad you stopped by to visit.”
“He was a good man,” Mr. Robbins said, nodding briskly and regaining some of his composure. “I was afraid it would feel… different, now that he’s gone. But it doesn’t, does it? It really does feel like he’s still here. I’m glad you’re keeping his memory alive, young lady.”
It was the nicest thing Mr. Robbins—or anyone else, for that matter—had ever said to me. It was my turn to blink hard as I tried to hold back the tears suddenly welling up in my eyes.
For a man that made a hobby out of being gruff and disagreeable, Mr. Robbins had hit me right in the heart with his unexpectedly thoughtful words.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I couldn’t let such a heartfelt gesture go unanswered.
“Thank you,” I said, finally. “That means a lot to me, and I know it would’ve meant a lot to Henry, too. Please do come by and visit as often as you’d like. I won’t even try to sell you any more Peruvian lilies.”
Mr. Robbins laughed, a short, dry sound that seemed almost as out of place as his earlier sentiments had been.
God, I was bringing out all the emotions in the normally reticent old man today.
“Maybe those lilies weren’t so bad,” Mr. Robbins said grudgingly. “And I may come back later to look at those carnations. I’ve got some other things I need to take care of in town first, though.”
Without another word, he turned and made his way to the door, only pausing for a moment to nod his head when I called out to say goodbye.
Chapter Five - Joanne
I couldn’t help but chuckle as Mr. Robbins disappeared out the door. Getting a compliment from him was a fantastic and completely unexpected way to start my morning. Computer malfunction notwithstanding, I hoped it was a good omen for the rest of the day.
But it was proof that Henry’s beliefs about customer service had been spot-on. He’d always told me to treat everyone who walked through the door like they were family—like there was nobody else in the world I’d rather be talking to.
Henry had always said it was a way to honor his late wife’s memory with more than just the shop’s name. According to him, it was the way Patty had always treated people and how she would have done things.
He’d built his shop and customer base around his what-would-Patty-do philosophy and had paid more than just lip service to the idea that the customers’ special occasions were special to him, too.
The people of this town had loved him for it.
As far as I was concerned, Henry’s big-hearted approach to business was why Patty’s Petals hadn’t been affected by any of the uncertain economic times of the previous decade and why the church had been filled beyond capacity for Henry’s funeral the month before.
It was also why people like Mr. Robbins and Mrs. Linley remained loyal customers, even though Henry was no longer here.
The residents of Castle Falls took pride in the shop, just as much as Naomi, Henry, and I had. Our customers wanted it to succeed just as much as everyone who worked there.
I walked back through the shop toward the office and the computer mess I’d left there, stopping to eye a bouquet of tulips I’d put together the day before. To get the most life out of a display, I always used some buds that were still tightly closed. It never got old watching them open gradually over the course of several days.
I rubbed a thumb across one of the buds, smiling to myself as I thought of how pretty it would be once it had a chance to bloom, a chance to show off its true colors.
It was just another one of the million little perks I got from working with what nature had created. I’d never be able to fully explain how it made me feel to be surrounded by that kind of life and beauty every day—and even getpaidfor it—but I’d always be grateful to Henry for having given me a chance to discover that side of myself, and to the community of Castle Falls for continuing to let me indulge it.
It was comforting to know that the tight-knit town was rooting for their little shop, but it was also a bit melancholy.
I had never set out to be a florist; I’d only ever stayed at Patty’s Petals because I truly loved the work and the people I worked with. Henry had been like a surrogate father, and Naomi was the little sister I had never known I’d wanted.
I could have made more money working just about anywhere, doing just about anything else, but being able to show up for work every day and do something creative—to work with the beautiful, perfect things that nature had created—had turned out to be the most fulfilling thing I’d ever experienced.
This job and those people had seen me through some rough times—bad dates, break-ups, near bankruptcy, moving back in with my mom—and everything I’d been through in the past several years had been easier to manage because of the fact that for eight hours of the day, five or sometimes six days a week, I could put it all aside and play with flowers.
Who wouldn’t want a job like this?
How could anything else even compare?
I truly wanted to do it forever, and I’d always imagined Iwould. That I’d work at Patty’s Petals—with Henry—for a long, long time.
I shook my head as I dropped my hand from the tulip’s soft petal and walked back into the office.
