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“And if they go under while I’m living across the country with Thatcher? Do you know how guilty I’d feel, knowing I could have been here to help them?”
My best friend closed her eyes and lowered her chin. “Hattie, you are an amazing woman, daughter, friend, and florist. I have no doubt that you are going to help your parents turn this thing around. But if it doesn’t happen while Thatcher is still here with you working yourself to the bone to do it, it probably won’t happen at all. And itwon’tbe your fault.”
Her words cut me deep, and I turned back to the bouquet so she wouldn’t see the tears that now clouded my vision.
Was she right?
If we couldn’t save the shop in the next year and a half, was it doomed?
“So, what, are you saying I should just see what things are like when it’s time for him to leave?” I asked, my voice cracking with emotion.
“Yeah, you could do that. Or, you could talk to your parents about it and see what they think. They love Thatcher. They see how much he cares about you and how hard he works for no pay just to help your family. I highly doubt they’d tell you to let him leave just so you can stay here and go down with the ship.”
This time when my eyes flew to hers, I couldn’t help the tears that fell. “Stella.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, straightening and holding out her hands. “I really, truly hope I’m wrong about the shop. I hope you guys do so much business between now and then that when Thatcher leaves you won’t feel an ounce of guilt choosing to go with him.”
I hoped so too … but even to me, with all that hope I carried around with me like a shield from the fear that tried to claw its way in, it sounded doubtful.
“But, Hattie, be realistic,” she said gently. “That’s the best-case scenario. You need to think about what you’ll do if that doesn’t happen. And I think losing out on all of that time with Thatcher would be a big mistake.”
Before I could reply, my mom came through the front door with a wad of tissues pressed to her cheek. She dabbed the other side and sniffed. “Hey, girls.”
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked, rushing around the counter and taking her hand.
“I just met up with Debbie. We had to let her go.”
My heart sank. “No.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, sweetie. That means a lot more work on all of our shoulders, but it had to be done. It was the last thing we could think of doing before closing completely. Even with all the new business we’ve been getting lately.”
Slowly, I turned to Stella, and her face reflected the pain in my heart. She knew exactly what this meant for my family.
We’d worked so hard on this business, and the last thing any of us wanted was to see it go down. Which was why I was going to put in even more time to make it work so we could save it.
And if I couldn’t make it happen by the time Thatcher left, I’d have no choice but to say goodbye.
* * *
The next morning, Thatcher arrived bright and early for his shift. Hisvolunteershift, of course, since we weren’t paying anyone to be here now. We were barely paying ourselves, at this point.
We had enough for the essentials, of course, but I sure hoped there were no wedding dates in my future because a new dress was most definitely out of the question.
He walked into the back office and greeted me with a warm smile and a tender kiss, smelling fresh from the shower. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Morning. How was your night last night? Did you have night flights?”
“No. I slept a full eight, and I’m ready to work today. What do you have for me?”
I looked down at my to-do list and hummed. “You can print out the cards for today’s deliveries if you want.”
“Sure thing.”
When he didn’t immediately spring into action like usual, I looked up at him with a frown. “Everything okay?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
Feeling myself on the verge of tears, I slumped back in my chair and covered my face with my hands.
