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“Are they begging for food?” I asked. “They shouldn’t be. It’s almost bedtime. Má will come out and round them up soon.”
“Nah, they’re just circling me. Do I dare try and pet one?”
“Try Pollita, the red lady right there. She likes people.”
I smiled, watching Isaac slowly lower himself into a squatting position and then reach out towards Pollita. It looked like a scene out of Jurassic Park, just with a much lower chance of anyone getting their arm ripped off. Pollita held still like she might allow it, even lowering her head, but then she took off at the last second, making him fall forward empty-handed.
“I feel tricked.”
“She’s like that. A fickle temptress, that one.”
“Pollita. Little chicken.”
“Yep. Or a cute chick. Both definitions fit her. Come on.” I gestured for him to follow me out to the van, but I tossed him the keys at the last second. “I don’t feel like driving, and Má said it was okay.”
He grinned. “I know. I went in and said hello to your parents, and she told me. You sure you don’t want to drive?”
“Extremely sure.”
“Sweet.” His excitement over getting to drive an old fifteen-passenger van was adorable.
I got in the shotgun seat before he could offer to get my door. It was dumb, these barriers I kept putting up while I tried to figure out where we stood with each other. They never lasted long, because being around him was my favorite, and I got comfortable too easily. But every once in a while, that fear would hit me again. That my heart would come out through my words, or worse, my hands, and then my relationship with Isaac would become this new creature I couldn’t predict or control.
I’d only get so many close calls before I hit that point-of-no-return, the thing I’d asked Sadie about. Repeatedly kissing his cheek seemed just as bad as accidentally kissing a neck. And we had definitely talked about our feelings. I had lots of them, and they were scaling over the walls I’d put up like determined contestants on a mud run. Working together. Cheering each other on.
Keep it together, Carmen.
On the way to the retirement complex, I asked him about work, and he gave a tired laugh. “Oh, man. It’s been a day.”
“Don’t tell me the hard stuff right now. Tell me something good. Tell me about that lady who sells the delicious marshmallows on a stick. You said you sold out of them on the second day?”
“Yes. And we signed a six-month contract. After that, Grace can see if she wants to keep it going, and Evette and Finch can decide if that selling model works for them. They’re also going to meet with Dean.”
“For business coaching?”
“Yeah. I think they have a ton of potential. And I love that she’s involving her son. I know not every kid wants to go into the family business, but these two make a good team.” He paused. “Can I tell you about the hard stuff?”
“Of course.” I reached across the console and squeezed his wrist. He flipped it over and just like that, we were holding hands. Magical. There was that word again. I took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to be at one with the zippy feeling bouncing around inside my chest.
He started to pull away, sensing my hesitation, but I held on. I’d offered comfort. Who was I to take it back?
“Tell me about work,” I prompted. “How is Grace?”
“She’s hanging in there. I made a lot of changes today. Dean called me to task, saying if I can’t even stand up to my sister, I’m probably not cut out for business consulting.”
“Um, ouch.”
“He said it nicer than that, but yeah. He’s right. She’s gotten comfortable with things a certain way, and when anything threatens that, it’s like this wall goes up. Today was the first day we could actually talk about it. We about had a fistfight over the price changes, but I finally feel like everything is going to be okay.”
“That’s awesome, Isaac.” I squeezed his hand, insanely happy for him, and yet, something he’d said nagged at me. Comfortable with things a certain way… I didn’t like the way those words resonated deep inside my mind, my control-freakish nature feeling called out. I liked control. Control was comfortable and safe. But I had to remind myself this conversation wasn’t about me.
“What changes did you make?” I asked. “Besides pricing?”
Isaac went through each one, telling me his reasoning and how Grace had reacted to it. She thought the recycling program was tacky, with all those random containers potentially cluttering up her beautiful shop, but she was willing to give it a go. And she agreed to start training their employees on wedding consultations, which for her was a big relinquish of control. She’d still be in charge of preparing the flowers for the big day, but she didn’t have to be hovering over every little step.
I was way curious about the TikTok thing. “Did anyone come in to claim the bouquet?”
“Yeah. One person, and she was really excited about it. A few people called to see if it was claimed. We have a long way to go with social media, but we’re going to give Natalie room to be creative.”
