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With my new schedule, I haven’t seen as much of them as usual, and I miss them. Plus, hours-long lunch breaks are not the norm for them, so naturally, I’m worried.
Despite what I told Lucas, I know my decision to leave Main Street Flowers for good affected them in ways they’re not telling me. How could it not? While they’ve never said outright that they want me to take over the shop when they retire, I can’t help but think they must want me to. Right? It’s the business they’ve spent their lives cultivating, and I’m their only child.
Or maybe they’re totally fine—everything is fine—and I’m a worrier who projects worst-case scenarios onto everything. That, or I’m creating an issue where there isn’t one because I’m avoiding thinking about other, larger issues affecting me. Like the situation with Lucas.
Sometimes I think life would be more peaceful if I’d never done therapy.
On the off chance my parents are, in fact, naked, I ring the doorbell. The sound sets off Lulu, whose barks grow closer to me every second. I grin as I hear my dad’s voice nearing as well, muttering about muzzles, the words belied by the affection in his gruff voice.
When the door swings open, I’m thankful to see that my dad is fully clothed and doesn’t look red in the face. He does, however, look a bit shifty. Before I can process that, he grabs me in a hug. Lulu dances around us, knocking into our legs.
“What a nice surprise! What brings you by?”
“Just wanted to come say hi. Where’s Mom?”
“She’s, uh, in the kitchen.” He scratches his bearded cheek. “It may not be the best time.”
My eyes narrow, and I mentally hold up my heart to keep it from dropping to my toes. “Why not? What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
My voice lifts. “Then why can’t I come in?”
Clearly sensing that I’m pedaling toward a freak-out, he comes to a decision and opens the door wider. With a grave expression that does fuck-all to alleviate my nerves, he waves me inside.
“Go on and see for yourself.”
I barely breathe until I walk into the kitchen and see my mom looking perfectly healthy, though her smile is a bit too wide. Her eyes flicker nervously past me. Then she squares her shoulders and gestures to the paperwork all over the kitchen table.
It takes me a good thirty seconds to make sense of multiple piles.
One pile is brochures for RVs—the giant, house-on-wheels kind. Another pile looks like articles printed from the internet about road travel. Where to go, what to pack, best national parks, dog-friendly campsites…
And the final pile: legal documents.
“What are those?” The question comes out in a whisper, but I’m suddenly scared to look closer, to read the tiny print.
There’s a full ten seconds of silence before my dad breaks the seal, and then they’re tag-teaming bomb drops.
“We found a buyer for Main Street Flowers, honey. It’s time. We’re ready to move on to the next adventure.”
“We’re going to buy an RV and travel around the country for a few months this fall. We’ve always wanted to.”
“But don’t worry, we’ll be back by Christmas.”
“And before you ask, we’re not selling the house.”
“Well, we might. But that’s down the road. Nothing to worry about now.”
“We know this is a shock, Celeste.”
“We weren’t trying to keep anything from you, honey. It all happened pretty fast. We really just finalized things today.”
“We were going to tell you either tonight or tomorrow.”
Itch on my heel.
Lungs fill. Deflate.
