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Pink, tiny roses climbed white trellises attached to either side of Blossom’s front entrance door, their delicate fragrance like a warm welcome home hug. A town icon for as long as she could remember.
Genevieve pulled a note off the front door and frowned.
Call us when you see this.
Her parents were already gone. She’d agreed to man the shop in the hopes of getting her article written while they took a much-needed break. She let herself into the shop to the sound of a tiny bell over the door.
She’d hoped to see them off, but maybe this way was for the better. She could dive straight into writing and tend to the occasional customer. According to the note, her parents would return tomorrow evening for the flower show taking place in the town square. Blossoms would serve as host, a part her motherlived for, and her father seemed to enjoy all the buzz it gave the shop.
She chuckled at her own pun.
Inside, Genevieve flicked the closed sign over and switched the overheads on. A soft glow of white flooded the ample space. Nothing had changed from her childhood. Her dad always teased her mom about the shop being part florist and part nursery. Pots overflowed with everything from fresh basil to peppermint. Each individually planted so customers could take their own home to plant or keep in their kitchen. Not something florists usually kept around. Her mother thought otherwise. A plant is a plant whether it was in a pot or snipped for a pretty bouquet.
A sea of red and pink carnations flowed from one side of the shop to the other with hints of white Casablanca lilies, and her favorite daisies here and there. Dozens of other flowers cascaded from ceiling to floor in patchwork colors perched from metal buckets attached to standing tiers.
White twinkle lights dangled from the eves to finish off the look with a welcoming and cozy vibe. Her dad liked to tease them that they’d created a fairy playground. She couldn’t argue. It was heaven. At an early age, she’d learned to recognize the certain serenity that came over a person when they walked through their doors. This kind of peace was in short supply in the Big Apple. With any luck, the juju she found here would work its magic and she could get back in the saddle word-wise and kick this deadline’s butt.
And be out of here before her body got ideas about Whiskey.
She set down her suitcases and dog crate inside her mom’s corner office.
Off to the right and set apart from the front, a thick curtain of plastic sectioned off an air-conditioned portion of the shop to help maintain freshly cut roses and arrangements for weddings and parties.
And, was great for making out with Whiskey. The reason why he remembered the shop so well, she imagined. They had a lot of fun back there the summer after graduation. He’d graduated a few years earlier and found interesting ways to help her celebrate.
Cool air slipped from beneath the foot-wide gap at the bottom and cooled her bare, tan legs. It might be early but after an impromptu morning run, she’d worked up a good sweat.
Genevieve set to work dealing with the aftermath of the spilled coffee. After changing she fed an overly hungry Pugly, who now snored away on his little cushion by a bucket of freshly delivered pink Gerbera. With luck on her side, he’d sleep through noon and give her time to work.
After cleaning the clutter on the front counter, Genevieve cranked up her laptop and read over the handful of notes of topics she managed to pull together over the last month. None of them drew her muse out of its dark corner long enough to spark a creative note.
She plopped onto a stool and picked up the phone.
After a couple of rings, a sweet voice came through.
“Hey, sweetie, I hoped you would call back soon. Your dad and I are loving our time away. It’s been so long. We found a beautiful little town with the loveliest bookstores and…”
Her mom’s words sounded garbled.
Genevieve pressed the phone a little closer to her ear. “What? I’m sorry, Mom, what? You sound a little muffled.”
“Sex shop. I took pictures for your friend, Venus. I thought she might get some ideas. You know, know your competitor. Right?”
Genevieve clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh. “Oh yeah,” she agreed swiftly, unable to hold back the laugh anymore. “Venus will love you for it!”
Her parents never got out of Pinegrove given they never closed the shop and her dad refused to hire help. Hearing the lively upbeat energy in her mom’s voice made her smile.
She side-eyed Pugly when he growled in his sleep before rolling over. “I’m so glad you both could get away for a while.”
“We’re going dancing tonight and tomorrow we’re having a couple’s massage before heading back.”
She gave a low whistle. “Fancy! Sounds like a lot of fun. You’re gonna love all of it. So, hey, listen, umm…quick question.”
“Yes, dear?” She knew that tone. The tone only a mother could give. One that said she already knew the question and had the answer to whatever it was she wanted to ask. Now that was some Jedi master trick, next level. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have those abilities, which she was pretty sure would never happen. Deadlines seemed to rule her life. After she hit this one, no doubt her editor had her lined up for another.
She snagged a pen off the counter and rolled it between her fingers absently. “Yeah, umm… I was just wondering, so when did Whiskey get back into town?” Oh, the eloquence. She rolled her eyes at herself. For being an award-winning journalist, she sure stumbled over her words a lot.
“Whiskey,” she repeated. “Doesn’t he look fine in that suit?”
