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“That’s totally unnecessary,” I started, grinning when they all glowered at me. “But much appreciated.”
Their shoulders relaxed in unison, and one by one, they each stepped up to the counter and placed orders for various upcoming occasions in their lives. Between this and the magic Mrs. Reid had worked at the wedding, it was all I could do to get through the process without crying hot tears of gratitude.
Then, shortly after I promised to have their arrangements for a new mom, a sick granddaughter, a too-boring cubicle—and more—ready by the date they needed them, the book club ladies filed out the door.
Except for one.
“Thanks for this,” I said to Mrs. Reid, annoyed that tears started to burn at the backs of my eyes.
“What are friends for? Any friend of Thatcher’s is a friend of mine.”
Stella shot me a meaningful look as Mrs. Reid winked before sauntering out the door, and I let my head fall back with a dry laugh. “Wow.”
“Wowis right. You’re in big trouble, girl.”
“I’m starting to think you’re right.”
7
THATCHER
Iwalked into the shop with a box of individually packaged flower petals, smiling at Hattie as I passed by the open office door. She was working on the inventory list from this morning’s shipment with her dad by her side. I carried the box to the pickup cooler and began unloading them on the shelf.
If you’d asked me a month ago if I could see myself moonlighting as a volunteer flower shop employee, I would have looked at you like you’d sprouted an extra head.
But I had to admit, even though it was about as far as you could get from my routine at my real job, I actually kind of liked it.
Okay, maybe I didn’t like the job as much as I liked the woman I worked for. And I liked her a lot. And that feeling only got stronger with each passing day.
Which was simultaneously good and bad, considering the fact that each day we spent together brought us closer to the day we’d eventually part.
The bell above the door chimed from behind me, signaling the first customer of the day. I hurried to finish unloading the petals so I could help them without Hattie needing to stop what she was doing. Debbie was off today, and Mrs. James was on deliveries, so it was up to me to man the front if Hattie and her dad were tied up with something.
“Welcome in. I’ll be right with you,” I called over my shoulder.
“Thanks,” a masculine voice replied.
Finishing with the last of the plastic clamshells that held the petals, I tucked the box into the L-shaped space behind the counter and greeted the customer. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking to buy flowers for someone.”
“You’ve come to the right place, my man. We’ve got plenty.”
“I see that,” he said with a quirk of his mouth, looking around like a deer in headlights as he took in the dozens of bouquets.
I tucked my hands in my pockets, hoping he wouldn’t ask for advice on what kind of arrangement he should get. My knowledge was very limited. I could work the cash register or move stuff around just fine, but recommending just the right bouquet was way above my non-existent pay grade.
Hattie, on the other hand, was a master at that.
Her passion for this job was clear as day to me, and watching her do her thing was insanely attractive. When someone came in looking for something special, she’d ask a few questions about the recipient, and before long, they’d walk out with something that would probably fit the person or situation to a T.
Who knew there was so much symbolism behind each flower? There was a lot more to it than simply picking a bouquet that looked nice, and Hattie made sure each customer had the right arrangement, every time.
Tough boots to fill, no doubt.
It was much easier for me to help customers when they picked up phone orders than when they needed advice, but I really didn’t want to have to disturb Hattie and her dad, so I took a deep breath and gave it a shot. “So, what’s the occasion?”
“Well, I guess I’m looking for something that says, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk.’ Do you have anything like that?”
