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He chuckles warmly before removing an old rag from his shoulder, swatting it at me. “No, but you do look late for your shift, so go on, get.”
I head for the door with a smile in my heart, grateful to have a dad who doubles as a best friend, and then make the short drive to Rainy Street.
Once I’ve parked behind the flower shop, I take a deep breath, hopeful that my last-ditch attempt at reviving a batch of sickly gardenias was successful. Though, if they’re anything like the rest of the blooms that have met their untimely demise over the last year and a half, they’re goners.
The sun rises on the sleepy, half-lit buildings when I round the front of the flower shop, and from across the street, my best friend’s mom waves. “Mornin’, Molly!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Monroe,” I say cheerfully, easing into the routine of another day of small-town livin’.
After propping the door to her bakery open, Piper steps out from behind her mom, her orange-red hair shining in the morning sun. “I’ll be back in a bit, Ma,” she calls as she jogs over to me.
We start most of our mornings this way: one of us, or a neighboring business owner, helping the other open up. Littered with boutiques, laundromats, cafés, and other essentials, Rainy Street is a hot spot in Magnolia Creek for tourists and locals alike.
Piper’s brown and blue mismatched eyes glitter with mischief as she yanks the foreclosure notice out of my back pocket. “What do we have here?”
I unlock the purple window-paned door of Hart’s Blooms and start arranging my outdoor florals on the wooden display racks outside. Knowing she hates when I sugarcoat things, I come right out with it. “We’re going to lose the house.”
“No,” she gasps, her brows rising while she opens the letter. “How?”
“I don’t know. He must be hiding how much the medical bills are taking a toll on him.” I pause to shake my head. “I didn’t even know he’d filed for bankruptcy.”
“Morning, Molly,” Nadine says as she enters the shop to start her shift.
She and my part-timer, Ruby, help out a ton around here, and without them, I’d probably have lost this place a long time ago.
My heart lurches when I spot a potted Meyer lemon tree wilting, and I quickly hide it behind the others before she notices.
“I’m gonna cut some ribbon before we get too busy,” Nadine says, pointing at the wrapping station in the back of the store.
I smile a touch too enthusiastically. “Perfect! Thank you so much.”
She and Piper exchange, Okay, weirdo, glances while I pray today isn’t the day Piper finally unveils my lies.
When Mom passed from breast cancer two years ago, she took the heart and soul of this place with her, leaving it to a daughter who has the blackest thumb there ever was.
At first, I managed just fine, pulling supplies from her greenhouse a few miles from here. But when I’d exhausted those resources and there was nothing left, I panicked. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to teach me the art of gardening and growing flowers, I always gravitated toward building things with Dad.
Give me a hammer and nails, and I’m unstoppable. Give me a gardening rake and a pack of seeds, and it’ll be a cold day in hell if anything sprouts.
Guilt roils in my gut when I turn back to my friend. No one, not even Piper, knows that I’ve been restocking my supplies from an outside source an hour away in Pigeon Forge for the last year and a half. And I’m a terrible daughter for taking advantage of Dad’s grief and avoidance of the greenhouse altogether.
I lower my voice so Nadine won’t overhear. “I can’t let him lose the house, Piper.”
She helps me prop the door open with a set of terracotta pots, letting the fresh morning air filter inside. “You won’t. We’ll put our heads together and get this figured out, babe. I promise. It’s just a warning from the bank. You’ve still got time.”
I grab some packets of flower feed from the front pocket of my overalls, then reach for a bright pink watering can under the counter. “It’s the third warning.”
Piper and I have been thick as thieves since we were kids. We know almost everything there is to know about each other, and that means, deep down, she knows this is as hopeless as I do.
The trouble is, we don’t make nearly enough money from this place to help him. When I was dating Garrett, he offered me a secretary position at his accounting firm in Knoxville. I damn near killed myself working both places, and when we broke up, they gave me the boot faster than I could blink.
What a joke that relationship ended up being… But at least I got to keep the car he gave me.
I finish watering a row of succulents, then adding a dash more in case they’re extra thirsty, when two tall figures duck inside the store.
“Shit,” Piper mutters from beside me.
“Hi, fellas. How can I—” The greeting dies on my lips when I see a face I do my damndest to avoid on the daily. I position myself behind the checkout counter, seething beneath Wade Goldstein’s mocking stare. “To what do I owe this unpleasant visit?”
