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Must be stress, I think as I force thoughts of Gracie from my head and get to work.
THREE
Gracie
I keep replayingwhen Ken came into my shop yesterday to return the flowers.
His hair was slightly messy, as if he’d been running his hands through it all morning. I got the crazy urge to runmyfingers through his hair, maybe massage the tension from his neck and shoulders too.
The look on Ken’s face when I told him the flowers were for him nearly broke my heart. He was so surprised and I was happy that I could do something nice for him. His reaction was almost like no one had ever done anything thoughtful for him in a long time, and that nearly brought tears to my eyes.
It also just made me more determined to do what I can to brighten his days. It makes me sad to think of him being alone and so stressed about work. Especially the kind of work he does. Ken takes care of the sick, the wounded, and the occasional hypochondriac. It has to be draining, both mentally and physically, and even more so without extra help.
I’m alone, too, but I’m surrounded by all of this beauty and get to do what I love every day. I can go hang out with my friends after work or catch up with Caroline at the diner anytime that I want. Dr. Coleman doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends or have much of a social life outside of his practice.
The thought of Caroline has the usual jealousy flooding my body. I want what she and Heath have so bad. I’ve made a nice little life for myself here in Cherry Falls but at the end of the day, I’m headed home to my empty house. There’s no family to celebrate holidays or special occasions with. No one to cheer for me over an accomplishment. Then again, I never had a lot of praise growing up, and I don’t know what I’d do if someone celebrated anything in my life.
I shake my head, clearing away the self-pitying thoughts.
I was thinking about Ken,I remind myself.
He does so much for this town and I just want to repay him in some small way. That’s what I tell myself anyway. The truth is that I also just want to have an excuse to see him and maybe talk to him a little more. I think our conversation yesterday was the longest one we’ve ever had and it only lasted seconds.
Still, I was alone with him and had his undivided attention for a bit. It was addictive having those dark brown eyes on me.
My gaze drifts over to some sunflowers. They remind me of his eyes. The deep, warm brown in the middle with the circle of gold inspires me, and I smile as I get started on another arrangement for the good doctor.
I grab the sunflowers and a few pink roses to add a splash of color. Some baby’s breath helps soften it up and I grab a pink ribbon to tie around the vase, twisting it into a perfect bow.
I grin as I step back, studying my latest creation.
It’s perfect. The Ken Coleman arrangement.
I check the time, seeing that it’s just after one and I bite my lip. Poppy, the girl who helps me out at The Flower Patch, just got back from her lunch and I know that I could ask her to drop them off, but it’s so nice out. Besides, I should grab something to eat and maybe I should get Ken something too. I’m betting that he skipped lunch again today.
“Hey, Poppy?” I call and she pokes her head out of the back with a smile.
“Yeah, boss?”
“I’m going to go deliver these and grab something to eat. Can you watch the front for me?”
“Of course.”
I grab my phone, keys, and the flowers and head out the door. I set the flowers on the floor in the back of my old Ford Escape and climb behind the wheel. I send up a silent prayer that the old car starts as I turn the key in the ignition. It coughs and sputters but starts and I let out a deep breath.
“Good job,” I say, rubbing the dash with a smile as I pull out of my spot and head toward The Virgin Street Diner.
I don’t want to leave the flowers in the hot car so I call ahead to place my order. Caroline answers the phone and I know that she’s going to have questions about why I’m ordering so much food for just myself.
I park outside of the diner and head in, smiling when I see Heath sitting at the counter, his eyes locked on his fiancée.
“Hey! Your food just came out,” Caroline says as she sets a plastic bag with my food on the counter.
“Thanks so much. What do I owe you?” I ask as I pull out the cash in my pocket.
“It’s on the house. I still owe you for babysitting Charlotte the last time.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I argue.
