Chapter Eight
Molly
It’s freezing outside, and light snow is falling, but by the time I reach my little flower shop, I know fresh air and a short walk is what I needed.
Rosie meets me at the front door with a vibrant pot and wooden wind chimes still wrapped up in cellophane. “Can you tell me why the hell we’re still getting these stupid things in all our shipments? We’ve got eighty of them and none of ‘em sell.” She tosses her long brown hair back and locks the door behind me. We don’t open for another thirty minutes but we’re usually in the shop an hour or so before open to prep.
“I’ll call the company again. I think there’s a—” Another wave of nausea hits my tongue the second the smell of soil permeates my nose. God help me! At least I didn’t vomit in Holden’s office. That would’ve been the icing on the break-up cake.
Can you break-up with your therapist? As I toss what’s left of my cookies in the tiny bathroom at the back of the shop, my mind reels with every detail of what’s gone down this morning. Most people would be grateful for what’s budding with Rhett alone, not to mention Maverick. So, I shouldn’t be hurt by Holden’s decision to pull away. It makes sense. He has a career to think about. Yet, here I am, focusing on the negative.
Maybe Tyler was right about a few things. I do tend to do that, but it’s hard not to. Holden is the closest friend I’ve had for years. He listens intently, and he genuinely cares.
He was also being paid … the little voice in the back of my head keeps ringing. Yeah, but he didn’t have to fall in love with you. That wasn’t in his job description. Okay, someone needs to shut me up.
I pull a paper towel from the dispenser and splash cool water on my face as Rosie laughs hysterically from the front room. She likes to listen to podcasts while she unpacks in the morning, so I figure it’s either that or maybe we got the sex shop’s boxes again. The UPS guy mixed up our shipments one day, and we opened up a box of bright pink dildos which gave us an idea for a whole different kind of arrangement.
“Who laughs at their best friend vomiting upon arrival? You’re supposed to be making me tea or something, aren’t you?” I step back into the front room and grab scissors from the drawer beneath the register.
“Sure. What you need is tea. ” Rosie stands from the bench where she’s been unloading a cardboard box and makes her way toward the back of the shop where a small coffee pot and snack box sit. It’s a pathetic excuse for a break room, but it’s all we have room for given the size of our shop, not that I’m complaining. Our little hole in the wall is just the right size for everything we need. Carefully potted orchids, hanging greenery, a shelf for fairy garden supplies, and a cooler to keep cut arrangements fresh.
I sit in front of the half-unpacked box and stare down at the bird feeders we ordered months ago. I’m not sure what good they’re going to do us mid-December, but they’re here. Maybe folks will want them for a holiday gift.
“Here you go.” Rosie hands me a unicorn mug filled with tea and a little stick of honey. “Sorry I’m an asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole, but what are you laughing at?”
“I shouldn’t have laughed.” She twists her hair to the side and drags her glasses back down onto her face.
“Right, but what are you laughing at?”
She sits down next to me and rolls her eyes to the side before pulling another birdhouse from the box, unwrapping it gently as though she’s trying not to break a nail. Since I’ve known her, she’s kept really well-manicured hands. Long French tips, and chunky turquoise jewelry. It’s a style I sort of want to rip off. “You’ve been throwing up every morning for a while now.”
“Yeah, I’m stressed. I told you, Google says that’s normal.”
She chuckles. “You have got to stop Googling everything, and I don’t think you’re as stressed as you are pregnant. ”
“What?” I gasp. “I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill.”
“Right, people never get pregnant on the pill.” She shifts in the chair then stands, hanging the first birdhouse in with the greenery, snagging her long floral kimono on a plant stand as she turns back. I’ve always appreciated her sense of style. It’s a skill set I don’t have. Most days, my hair is in a messy bun and my outfit looks like something Adam Sandler would wear. I can’t imagine what the shop would look like if I were left to design it. That said, she’s trendy, not a doctor. I’m most definitely not pregnant.
Still, my stomach hardens and my cheeks flush with heat and concern. Why did I not think of this possibility? Because it’s irrational, that’s why. “I’m not pregnant. I mean, Google says that—”
“Or… maybe you take a pregnancy test and see what reality says? Again, Google doesn’t know everything.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay… you’re miserable this morning. What’s up with that?” Rosie has always been higher strung than me, but today seems worse than others.
She sighs and glances away before swallowing hard. Something bad is coming. “I,” she bites her bottom lip and glances around the room as though the answer is tucked away in a wind chime, “I have to sell my share of the shop.”
Something that feels like shards of glass prickles at my chest. I glance down to make sure I’m not bleeding out.
“I know this is a terrible time, and if you’re pregnant, it’s even worse, which is why I was laughing. I’m a nervous laugher. Remember I had to leave my uncle’s funeral because I couldn’t stop giggling.” This is a true story. I remember how humiliated she was over the whole thing. It’s been two years, and her mother still hasn’t let it go.
“I’m not pregnant.”
She sucks in a deep breath. “But… we aren’t bringing in enough money, Molly. We barely paid the rent here last month. If I don’t find something else, I’m going to have to start sleeping on the floor in the backroom, and I’m not sure there’s even enough room for me there.”
I understand where she’s coming from. Since the pandemic a few years back, our little mountain town has struggled, and the flower shop has been one of the last to bounce back. Sure, we have our regulars, but we’re not bringing in new business on a regular basis.
“I mean, look at all this stuff. Why are we still ordering stuff? We can’t even sell the stuff we have!” Her tone is rough and ragged as though she’s exhausted and scared. “Nursing school makes sense for me. There are plenty of jobs and I can make real money. I have to make some money… like yesterday.”
Deep down, I knew this was coming, and I can’t blame her. That said, I don’t know what I’d do if the shop closed. Her buyout means we’d most definitely go under. “Give it another couple of months. We can buy that ad on the highway coming into town. We can get things paid up and I can look for another partner. I’m sure that’ll—”
“I have no money, Molly. Nothing. I’m completely wiped out. If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to end up on that Fantasy Driver website everyone keeps talking about.”
“Fantasy Driver?”
She sighs loudly and rolls her head to the side. “Please don’t tell me you’re so sheltered you haven’t heard of Fantasy Driver. ”
“Yeah, nothing.”
“It’s an auction site for hookups. Women search out fantasies that men are looking to have, and if the price is right, you agree to fulfill. It’s paying out big bucks right now for weird kinks.”
“Weird kinks?”
“Yeah, like for instance… if you’re pregnant, you could find a man who was into breast milk or something. He’d agree to pay you big bucks, and you’d go let him feed off you for a while.” She grins as she talks, as though we both know the whole thing is a joke.
“You’re ridiculous, and I’m not pregnant.”
“But if you were…” She continues unpacking the box and says, “I can call my mom for help with this month’s rent, but after that, I really need to see improvement or I’m going to sell myself to an internet weirdo.”
“Dear God,” now my eyes are rolling, “and what fantasy are you selling?”
She laughs. “My virginity. Do you know how much these dudes will pay for a virgin?” Rosie and I are the same age, but she’s always held her sexuality much closer to her chest than I did. Rightfully so, probably.
“You’d really want to sell your virginity like that? No joke… like for real?”
“Yeah.”
I drag in another scent of soil and a wave of nausea returns. I swallow it down and try to focus on the conversation.
“From what I’ve read online, it’s going to be disappointing to lose it anyway. I might as well make some money from it.”
I can’t say she’s wrong about it being dissatisfying. I lost my virginity to Tyler, and it was massively disappointing. The whole thing was built up and then over in less than twenty seconds. Maybe it’s society’s fault for amping it up like giving yourself to someone is supposed to be this ceremonious event.
“Anyway,” she huffs, “I say we ditch the ad on the highway and see if there’s a spot on the diner menu for us. Rita is always talking about how much she wants to help local business. If we can get her to agree to give us a good spot, maybe we can run a special or something to drum up interest.”
“That’s really smart. We could give away bright red pots with every order.”
Rosie twists her hair to the side and grins. “Exactly! Or we let everyone know that we’re on the edge of prostitution. This is a small town. People might actually feel sorry for us.”
I laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re the one with the fantasy to sell.”
“Tyler doesn’t count. The second you left him you became a virgin again.”
“Well,” I sigh, “I guess I lost my virginity again last night then.”
Her eyes widen. “What? With Rhett?”
“Yeah,” I whisper as though the room is filled with prying ears. “We were drunk, and it just happened. I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing right now. I have all these feelings bubbling up for him and…” I sigh, stopping myself before I get too deep into the drama. Turns out, I’m not ready to share my crazy with the world yet. “How are things going with Owen?”
“You mean our friendship?” Her forehead wrinkles as she twists the turquoise ring on her index finger. “It’s going well.”
“You’re crashing with him, right? Nothing has happened?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, and it’s not going to either.”
“That’s not what you said last week. Last week, you watched him fix his truck with no shirt on, and you couldn’t stop talking about the things you’d do to him.”
“I was ovulating last week. I wasn’t thinking straight.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, sure he’s hot, and watching him do manly things is sexy, but he’s my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. So…”
I let the best friend comment slide as I unlock the door and flip the sign to open. “I give it a month. You’ll be ovulating again and I’m sure something else will go wrong with that old truck he’s driving.”
She grins widely. “Here’s hoping. Have things been weird with you and Rhett since the dicking?”
“ The dicking? Really?”
“Have they?” Her tone is light and playful.
“I don’t know. We only had this morning together.”
“And was it weird?”
“No, not really. It was… kind of perfect. Normal even, like we’d been this way all along.”
She squeals and reaches out to hug me as though this is the best news she’s had all day. “I’m so happy for you. I’ve always loved Rhett. And you could tell, like forever, when he came into the shop or called to check on you during the day, he was looking out for you. He’s always been looking out for you, Molly.”
My heart does the squishy warm thing again as I think about the words she’s saying. It’s true, Rhett has always been there for me, even in the moments I had to push him away because Tyler hated him so much.
“Well, we’ll see. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I just broke up with Tyler yesterday and I’m really weird about how little I’ve heard from him. I mean, I’m glad, but you know that feeling you get when you’re watching kids and they get really quiet. It’s almost worse than if they were making a bunch of noise. At least then you know what they’re up to.”
“You think he’s up to something?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. Rhett said he’d been following him for a while and that he knew something, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it yet.”
Rosie laughs. “On account of his cock being in your throat and all.”
My clit twitches just thinking about last night. “Yeah, well, I’ll be hearing about you and Owen next month, so watch your mouth.”
She laughs and spins toward the ivy wall at the front of the shop, hanging the birdhouses carefully on a vacant hook.
“We’re both a mess.” She grins and grabs another house from the counter. “That’s why we’re together. Don’t go getting sane on me or something.”
“I don’t think there’s any current threat of me becoming sane. Don’t worry.” I laugh and the bell on top of the door rings, prompting my gaze to the arrival of our first customer of the day. My heart beats with anticipation, hoping this shopper will be the one who wants to set up a wedding or an event that will fill our quota for the year, but it’s the mail man with another package. The gray-haired man smiles and sets the box on the counter before turning to leave.
“Maybe we should do mailers or something. That would generate some business, right?”
“Do you look at your mailers? I throw mine right in the trash.”
I sigh. “No. Mine go in the trash, too.”
Rosie grins. “Maybe Rhett is a secret billionaire, and he’s desperate to dump a bunch of money into your failing flower shop so all your dreams can come true.”
Now I’m laughing. “Yeah, now who’s been reading too much?”
“I don’t read.”
“That’s right. You’re addicted to reality TV and doom scrolling.”
She pinches her lips and shrugs. “Well, we’re all phone addicts, yourself included.” We’re always playing rough with each other, so I don’t think much of it. I know she loves me, and I love her and want the best for her just the same.
That said, I’m thankful the phone I’m addicted to vibrates in my pocket, and I’m even more thankful when I see it’s Rhett. I’m half expecting a cute message from him wishing me a good day or reminding me of how great last night was. Instead, he’s all business.
Rhett: We really need to talk tonight. Can we plan on dinner a little early?
Early dinner with… talking. Maybe Rhett realizes last night was a mistake. Maybe Maverick called him to talk about the weird ride in we had this morning. Maybe Holden decided to blow up his life, and he’s told Rhett and Maverick about what happened in therapy. Maybe Tyler has done something stupid and the reality of what my life is going to be is crashing down around me.
My chest tightens and the room starts to spin. I can’t find air. Why can’t I find air?
Rosie notices the crazy and she swings open the door, allowing a swell of cold to shock my system and bring me back to the moment. It’s probably nothing. Most likely Rhett wants dinner early so we can talk about last night.
Maybe he talked to my brother. Maybe he’s feeling guilty. Neither of those things are good for me, but it doesn’t necessarily mean the end of everything, right?
“You okay?” Rosies hand is on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
I glance toward her with another wave of nausea in my stomach. Nausea I’m sure now is anxiety. “Rhett wants dinner early.”
She gasps playfully. “Oh God, that’s terrible. Are you okay? Should we Google it… see what he’s thinking?” she laughs. “Or… maybe we could just ask him.”
I roll my eyes and bite back laughter as I go back to the box I’m sorting. Some people can’t stand Rosie’s straight forward vibe, but I appreciate it. No matter what, you always know exactly what she’s thinking. That, and she’d literally cut her arm off if it meant helping a friend, which is kind of what she’s doing giving me an extra month at the shop. “You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I kinda do. In a real, down to Earth, sarcastic sort of way that’s based in truth and observation.” A wide grin lifts her cheeks. “I’m gonna go grab us coffee.”
I glare toward her. “Do not get a pregnancy test.”
She shrugs and offers me a wry smile. “Now what would make you think I’m going to do that?”