CHAPTER 14
I carefully tuck the last spray of baby’s breath into the small mason jar arrangement, making sure the small bouquet is perfectly balanced, each delicate white flower complementing the pink carnations and purple statice. The gentle afternoon sunlight streams through the flower shops front windows, casting a warm glow on the workspace where I’m creating the shop’s newest, most popular item, our grab-and-go bouquets. Every few minutes, I glance toward the back office where Sophie is contentedly coloring at Mary Beth’s desk, her little legs swinging beneath the chair as she works on her current masterpiece.
“Those are turning out beautifully,” Mary Beth calls out as she passes by with an armload of fresh eucalyptus. The sweet, clean scent fills the air around us. “You’ve really got an eye for these quick arrangements.”
“Thanks,” I smile, feeling a sense of pride in my work as I adjust a slightly drooping stem. After my conversation with Ms. Lucy this morning and the subsequent call with the lawyer, I feel a little better.
The bell above the door chimes, and I instinctively whirl my head at the sound. Molly Henderson walks in with Tommy, his mop of light brown curls bouncing as he skips alongside his mom. Sophie peeks around the corner of the archway to see who just walked in.
“Hi Tommy.” She waves.
“Can I go play with Sophie mom?” He asks, already gravitating toward her.
Molly looks at me for confirmation and I nod, “Sure, sweetie. Just stay where me and Ms. Bailey can see you both.”
I watch as they both settle back at the desk, their heads bent together over Sophie’s coloring books. Molly makes her way over to where I’m working, admiring the arrangements I’ve completed.
“These are gorgeous, Bailey,” she says, gently touching a peach rose petal. “You know, I should get one for my kitchen table.”
“Take your pick,” I gesture to the finished bouquets. “I just finished these five.”
I watch as her fingers trail over each arrangement, her eyes taking in the different color combinations. She lingers on a soft pastel mix of peachy roses and lavender stock.
“This one’s speaking to me,” she picks up the bundle, bringing it closer to inspect the blooms.
“Those are my favorite combo.” I smile
Just then from the back office, we hear Tommy’s enthusiastic description of what sounds like a dinosaur.
I jump, nearly dropping the ribbon I’m tying around a bouquet. My heart hammers against my ribs as I spin toward the sound, my body tensing automatically.
But then I hear it. Sophie’s laughter. Not the nervous, hesitant giggle she’s developed over the past months, but a laugh that bubbles up from somewhere deep inside her.
“Tommy. Inside voice, please,” Molly calls out, giving me an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, Mom.” He replies, not looking sorry at all as he continues his dinosaur game in exaggerated whispers that makes Sophie cover her mouth to stifle another laugh.
I press a hand to my chest, willing my racing heart to slow down. “It’s okay,” I say, both to Molly and to myself. “Just startled me.”
She gives me a soft smile and then hands me the bundle. “Can I take this one?”
“Of course.” I reach for the kraft paper roll we keep under the counter, pulling out a sheet. The familiar rustle of paper grounds me as I lay it flat, positioning the bouquet diagonally in the center.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” she says, watching me fold the corners of the paper. “Would you and Sophie have time this week for a play date at the coffee shop?”
My fingers freeze mid-fold. A simple invitation, yet my chest tightens instantly. A play date.
“I-” The words catch in my throat as memories flash through my mind.
Matt’s voice, cold and controlling: “Why do you need to go out? Who are you meeting? I don’t want you talking to those women.”
The gradual disappearance of my friends. The declined invitations. The way he’d check my phone, questioning every text, every call.
I glance at Sophie, coloring with Tommy, her face relaxed.
We’re not there anymore and he’s not here.
I don’t have to be that Bailey anymore, the one who jumps at shadows, who asks permission to go to the grocery store, who lost herself piece by piece until she was unrecognizable. I’m learning to be someone new. Someone who can have coffee with a friend. Someone who can build a life here.
“That sounds nice,” I say finally, securing the bouquet with a length of twine. “What time?”
Her face lights up. “Around nine? After the morning rush but before it gets too close to lunchtime. The kiddos can play while we actually finish a cup of coffee while it’s still hot.”
“That sounds good to me.” I smile but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
After Molly pays and gathers Tommy, the shop settles back into it the quiet evening. Sophie returns to her coloring while Mary Beth and I begin our closing routine. The familiar tasks, trimming stems, cleaning buckets, sweeping fallen petals, have become almost meditative.
“You seemed a bit jumpy earlier, Bailey. Everything alright?” Mary Beth’s voice is gentle as she wipes down the front counter beside me.
I pause, mid fold, of one of the shop’s t-shirts. The lawyer’s business card feels heavy in my pocket where I tucked it after this morning’s call.
“I…” I shouldn’t say anything. But Mary Beth’s presence grounds me and I feel safe here in this space.
“Actually, I talked to a lawyer today,” I say, keeping my voice low even though Sophie’s humming to herself in the back office. “Ms. Lucy… she’s been helping me figure things out. Legal things.”
She sets down her cleaning cloth and turns to face me fully. “That’s good, Bailey. That’s really good.”
“It’s scary,” I admit, focusing on continuing to fold the shirts. “But it’s necessary.”
“Well, you’ve got people in your corner now.” She says. “Whatever you need, whether it’s someone to watch Sophie during appointments or just a listening ear. I’m here.”
I shouldn’t be saying any of this. Years of keeping everything locked inside scream at me to stop talking. But maybe it’s okay to be open, just this once.
“Thank you,” I whisper, blinking back more tears. “It means a lot to me.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze before returning to her tasks, not pushing for more, just letting me know she’s there. And somehow, knowing that I have people in my corner makes all the difference.
I finish restocking the shop’s merchandise in the glass case and all of a sudden, the shop’s bell chimes again.
I look up to see Ms. Lucy striding through the door. She’s holding a bright yellow flyer in one hand and waving enthusiastically with the other.
“Well, hello there, ladies!” Her voice fills the shop “Hope I’m not interrupting your closing routine.”
“Not at all,” Mary Beth says, setting aside her cleaning cloth. “We’re just wrapping things up.”
Sophie peeks out from the back office, and notices who just walked in. “Hi Ms. Lucy.”
“Well hello sweet pea,” Ms. Lucy beams “Been good for your mama today?”
She nods solemnly, and I can’t help but smile at her serious expression.
It’s then Ms. Lucy turns her attention to me and Mary Beth, waving the yellow paper. “I just came from the community center. They’re hosting their annual Pine Grove Spring Fling and I immediately thought of this lovely shop.”
She places the flyer on the counter, smoothing it flat with her palm. “They’re looking for local businesses to set up booths. Thought Magnolia Blooms would be perfect.”
My stomach tightens as I scan the flyer. The words “EXPECTED TURNOUT: 500+” jump out at me, making my throat go dry. Five hundred people. Five hundred strangers.
“It’s a wonderful opportunity for exposure,” Ms. Lucy continues. “They’ll be music, food trucks, and even games for the little ones.”
I force myself to take a deep breath.
“The shop could use the publicity.” Mary Beth says, eyeing the flyer.
“We could…” I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “Maybe we could do something simple. Like flower crowns?” The idea forms as I speak. “We could make them as freebies to hand out. A little advertisement for the shop that people can wear around the festival.”
“Flower crowns?” Sophie says as she comes up to me. “Can I help make them too, Mommy?”
I reach out to smooth her hair. “You’d be the best helper.”
“That’s a marvelous idea,” Ms. Lucy says, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Simple but memorable. And who doesn’t love wearing flowers in their hair?”