“Look at you!” Grace said.
“I’m getting a little better, but my instructor is right beside me, moving things around, pointing, shaking her head when I choose the wrong stem or stalk, cutting off ends to the right length. I didn’t exactly do this alone.”
“But she’s catching on,” Iris said. “In a couple of weeks, she’ll be re-creating some of your stock pieces on her own.”
“Also, I’m extremely slow and careful,” Ginger said. “Iris whips ’em out in twenty minutes.”
“Iris grew up in this shop.”
“I was helping to make centerpieces and wreaths and bouquets when I was ten. I guess you could say I’ve had a little practice.”
“I’m leaving at around noon today for a two-o’clock flight,” Grace said. “Let’s go over the schedule and what you need from me before I leave. Iris, there will be a flower delivery today. The vendor will get here at about two and I’ll be gone.”
“I’ve done it before, Grace,” Iris said.
“Be sure to give him the order for next Thursday, which includes the flowers for the Lacoumette-Grant wedding, and tell him I’ll need it before noon. Post a sign that the shop will be closed Monday and Tuesday. I’ll be back Tuesday night, open Wednesday.”
“I can open Monday and Tuesday,” Ginger said. “Don’t worry, I won’t attempt any extravagant arrangements. If you think it will be slow, I might not even have orders to fill.”
“Ginger and I can make up a few stock arrangements so she has some on hand in the cooler to sell if anyone wanders in. And I’ll check in after school on Monday to see if we should make anything up for Tuesday.”
“You guys,” she said. “You’re so fantastic.”
“We can figure out how to put a sign on the door. When are you headed to Portland for the wedding?”
“Friday morning, first thing. You still want to go, Ginger?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Are you sure it’s okay? Are you sure I won’t be deadweight?”
“I’d love for you to come. I’m going to make up a few centerpieces early Friday morning for their Friday-night party but I’ll transport the rest of my flowers in the back of the van, which is refrigerated. I’ll make up the wedding flowers at my old shop in Portland early Saturday. That way if I’m missing anything Mamie and Ross can probably help me fill in. We’re closing the shop for the wedding. That’s how it rolls for a big out-of-town affair.”
“I’ll be around if you want someone in the shop that Saturday,” Iris reminded her.
“Nah,” Grace said. “When I took this wedding I made a decision—I’d close for a couple of days. What I could earn keeping the shop open is more than offset by Peyton’s wedding. Let’s not drive ourselves crazy. I can recommend other florists in the area or take orders for Monday pickup or delivery.”
“Excellent,” Iris said. “In that case, hand over the store cell phone. I’ll take it until you’re back.”
Grace took it off her belt, looked at it and gave it to her. “The charger is on my desk. I think I’m having separation anxiety already.”
“Just make sure your desk and computer are just as you want them—I might have to share them until you’re back. Then get out of here, get ready to go.”
“Right,” she said, heading for her office. A half hour later she was hauling some of her spring sidewalk displays outside. When she turned, Iris was standing there, tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest.
“All right,” Iris said. “Ginger and I have this. Go.”
“You’re sure? I still have time...”
“Go. If I have a question, which I probably won’t, I know your number.”
“Okay.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll be upstairs till noon. I’ll stop in to say goodbye.”
“Great. We’ll be fine.”
Grace dashed up the stairs and into her loft. Troy was just tugging up and zipping his pants and she grinned. “Looks like I’m seconds too late.”
He pulled the zipper down. “I have a little time to spare.”
“I should have learned by now, we don’t joke around about sex, since you’re a sex maniac. Zip those britches, mister—I have a lot to do. I want to clean up around here and pack. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”
He tilted his head. “I’m a guy. My cleaning up and packing will take about fifteen minutes.”
“That’s great, just don’t show up here until noon. It takes me longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close to kiss her. “Thanks for last night.” Then he let her go and shot out the door.
Grace took just a second to savor the moment. It was so nice having a real live boyfriend wanting her and letting her know it. She never in her wildest dreams imagined this could happen to her, especially not with someone as wonderful as Troy. She thought it only happened in novels.
She shook herself and got busy. It wouldn’t take long—this was like living in an RV and she loved it. She changed her sheets and smoothed the comforter over her bed. Then she opened the suitcase on top of the bed but before she packed her clothes, she scrambled around the little loft. She ran the vacuum she kept in the small broom closet, dusted off her wood furniture, wiped off the table, counters, microwave, fridge and left the cleaner in the bathroom for the sink and mirror. She checked the fridge for food that should be thrown out, packed her charged laptop in her briefcase, and then she started on her clothes.
She wasn’t taking anything dressy. She folded and packed underwear, a couple of pairs of nice pants, jeans, coordinated tops and a blazer. Shoes were added. She glanced at her watch, proud—there was plenty of time. She’d take a shower, clean the bathroom behind herself and be ready with time to spare. She stepped out of the shower after a nice scrub and shave, dried and moisturized, wrapped herself in a towel and reached under the sink for her makeup. She’d leave her makeup bag, hair dryer, brush and comb, lotion out on the counter so they could go right in her suitcase and—
There it was. Her box of tampons. That hadn’t been touched in she wasn’t sure how long. And right beside it in a little plastic bag was that pregnancy test Peyton had given her. Just in case... “Oh, dear baby Jesus,” she said aloud. She sank onto the closed toilet lid.
“I’m getting a little better, but my instructor is right beside me, moving things around, pointing, shaking her head when I choose the wrong stem or stalk, cutting off ends to the right length. I didn’t exactly do this alone.”
“But she’s catching on,” Iris said. “In a couple of weeks, she’ll be re-creating some of your stock pieces on her own.”
“Also, I’m extremely slow and careful,” Ginger said. “Iris whips ’em out in twenty minutes.”
“Iris grew up in this shop.”
“I was helping to make centerpieces and wreaths and bouquets when I was ten. I guess you could say I’ve had a little practice.”
“I’m leaving at around noon today for a two-o’clock flight,” Grace said. “Let’s go over the schedule and what you need from me before I leave. Iris, there will be a flower delivery today. The vendor will get here at about two and I’ll be gone.”
“I’ve done it before, Grace,” Iris said.
“Be sure to give him the order for next Thursday, which includes the flowers for the Lacoumette-Grant wedding, and tell him I’ll need it before noon. Post a sign that the shop will be closed Monday and Tuesday. I’ll be back Tuesday night, open Wednesday.”
“I can open Monday and Tuesday,” Ginger said. “Don’t worry, I won’t attempt any extravagant arrangements. If you think it will be slow, I might not even have orders to fill.”
“Ginger and I can make up a few stock arrangements so she has some on hand in the cooler to sell if anyone wanders in. And I’ll check in after school on Monday to see if we should make anything up for Tuesday.”
“You guys,” she said. “You’re so fantastic.”
“We can figure out how to put a sign on the door. When are you headed to Portland for the wedding?”
“Friday morning, first thing. You still want to go, Ginger?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Are you sure it’s okay? Are you sure I won’t be deadweight?”
“I’d love for you to come. I’m going to make up a few centerpieces early Friday morning for their Friday-night party but I’ll transport the rest of my flowers in the back of the van, which is refrigerated. I’ll make up the wedding flowers at my old shop in Portland early Saturday. That way if I’m missing anything Mamie and Ross can probably help me fill in. We’re closing the shop for the wedding. That’s how it rolls for a big out-of-town affair.”
“I’ll be around if you want someone in the shop that Saturday,” Iris reminded her.
“Nah,” Grace said. “When I took this wedding I made a decision—I’d close for a couple of days. What I could earn keeping the shop open is more than offset by Peyton’s wedding. Let’s not drive ourselves crazy. I can recommend other florists in the area or take orders for Monday pickup or delivery.”
“Excellent,” Iris said. “In that case, hand over the store cell phone. I’ll take it until you’re back.”
Grace took it off her belt, looked at it and gave it to her. “The charger is on my desk. I think I’m having separation anxiety already.”
“Just make sure your desk and computer are just as you want them—I might have to share them until you’re back. Then get out of here, get ready to go.”
“Right,” she said, heading for her office. A half hour later she was hauling some of her spring sidewalk displays outside. When she turned, Iris was standing there, tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest.
“All right,” Iris said. “Ginger and I have this. Go.”
“You’re sure? I still have time...”
“Go. If I have a question, which I probably won’t, I know your number.”
“Okay.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll be upstairs till noon. I’ll stop in to say goodbye.”
“Great. We’ll be fine.”
Grace dashed up the stairs and into her loft. Troy was just tugging up and zipping his pants and she grinned. “Looks like I’m seconds too late.”
He pulled the zipper down. “I have a little time to spare.”
“I should have learned by now, we don’t joke around about sex, since you’re a sex maniac. Zip those britches, mister—I have a lot to do. I want to clean up around here and pack. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”
He tilted his head. “I’m a guy. My cleaning up and packing will take about fifteen minutes.”
“That’s great, just don’t show up here until noon. It takes me longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close to kiss her. “Thanks for last night.” Then he let her go and shot out the door.
Grace took just a second to savor the moment. It was so nice having a real live boyfriend wanting her and letting her know it. She never in her wildest dreams imagined this could happen to her, especially not with someone as wonderful as Troy. She thought it only happened in novels.
She shook herself and got busy. It wouldn’t take long—this was like living in an RV and she loved it. She changed her sheets and smoothed the comforter over her bed. Then she opened the suitcase on top of the bed but before she packed her clothes, she scrambled around the little loft. She ran the vacuum she kept in the small broom closet, dusted off her wood furniture, wiped off the table, counters, microwave, fridge and left the cleaner in the bathroom for the sink and mirror. She checked the fridge for food that should be thrown out, packed her charged laptop in her briefcase, and then she started on her clothes.
She wasn’t taking anything dressy. She folded and packed underwear, a couple of pairs of nice pants, jeans, coordinated tops and a blazer. Shoes were added. She glanced at her watch, proud—there was plenty of time. She’d take a shower, clean the bathroom behind herself and be ready with time to spare. She stepped out of the shower after a nice scrub and shave, dried and moisturized, wrapped herself in a towel and reached under the sink for her makeup. She’d leave her makeup bag, hair dryer, brush and comb, lotion out on the counter so they could go right in her suitcase and—
There it was. Her box of tampons. That hadn’t been touched in she wasn’t sure how long. And right beside it in a little plastic bag was that pregnancy test Peyton had given her. Just in case... “Oh, dear baby Jesus,” she said aloud. She sank onto the closed toilet lid.
