Chapter 6 #2
“You’ll have to leave your job at the store,” my mom says matter-of-factly.
I nod again, glancing back at my dad. He looks less upset now, at least. More contemplative than hurt.
“I’ve got to be honest,” he begins, “I wish you’d been upfront about this all along. Not because I’m upset you’re quitting,” he assures me, “but because I thought we’d raised you to know that you can always come to us to talk about whatever is on your mind.”
He stops for a moment, clearing his throat. “If this is what you want, then I want this for you, Else. Even if I’d gladly have you working by my side for as long as you’d like to be there.”
The pang in my chest is so swift, it nearly knocks the wind out of me.
I’d been so worried about hurting my family, disappointing my dad, that I didn’t stop to consider the fact that they have always, unequivocally and without reservation, loved and supported me.
I really don’t know how or when I turned into this person who carries the weight of everyone’s expectations – real or imagined on my part – so heavily on my shoulders.
When did I start letting my fear of disappointing people rule my every decision? Have I always been this way?
“I’m sorry, Dad. I was worried you’d be disappointed, or angry with me for leaving you hanging at the store, or that you’d think this wasn’t a good idea. And that’s on me, not you. I should have known you’d support me, just like you always have.”
“Damn right I will, kid,” he says gruffly. He pushes his chair back and stands, rounding the table to where I sit at the other end. I stand and let him pull me into a hug, an act so familiar I can’t help but wonder how I thought, even for a moment, that his reaction would ever be anything but this.
“Let me in,” my mother says, sliding her arms around us both.
“Hey, us too!” Georgia cries. I hear her chair scrape back and her feet pad across the floor before another set of arms is flung around us.
“Do I have to?” Aiden groans from his seat at the table.
“Get over there, you little punk,” Olivia chides.
I hear a deep sigh before my brother makes his way over to us. With so many arms wrapped around me I can’t feel when he joins in, but I hear a grumbly, “Happy now?” from somewhere above my head.
“You Carmichaels really give a girl with mommy and daddy issues some shit to talk about in therapy,” Grace jokes loudly.
“You can join in,” my sister tells her. Georgia worships Grace and always has. I accepted long ago that the cool older sister title isn’t mine to hold.
“Group hugs are not my jam, but I appreciate the thought,” Grace tells her.
As we break apart, it occurs to me that Olivia has been suspiciously quiet tonight.
When I look over at her, she’s still twisting that ring round and round on her finger.
I’d thought she was nervous for me, but now I’m wondering if it’s something else.
As if sensing me staring, she looks up and meets my eye.
“You good?” I mouth wordlessly as I sit back down at the table.
Surprising me, she grins back.
“Now that that’s settled,” she starts, “can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I reply automatically. I’m not used to Olivia needing anything from me, but whatever it is, I’m in.
Grace claps her hands excitedly, clearly in on whatever Olivia is about to ask. My family watches us curiously, eyes ping-ponging between us.
“Elsie June Carmichael,” Olivia begins dramatically. “You’ve already said yes to being my co-maid of honor.”
“Cheers,” Grace adds, holding up her glass of water. She doesn’t like my mom’s chardonnay, either.
“I’m so excited to have the two of you by my side while I say ‘I do.’ I don’t want this to take away from that, or make you feel like you have obligations to uphold when I want you to be having fun, but I thought it might be something you’d enjoy.
” She takes a deep breath and clutches her hands together as if in prayer.
“Will you do the flowers for my wedding? You don’t have to –”
“Yes,” I cut in. “One hundred percent yes.”
Tears prick behind my eyes and I blink, trying to hold them back. I had wondered who would be doing the flowers for the wedding but didn’t want to pry. I figured she wasn’t telling me because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
But to have the chance to do flowers for a wedding? And my best friend’s, no less. I don’t care if my shop is up and running yet or if I have to do floral arrangements at the table in my tiny kitchen.
“Are we maxed out on the group hugs? I kind of feel like we are,” Grace muses.
I grin at my best friends and reach across the table, grabbing their hands and squeezing.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” I tell Olivia, hoping she doesn’t notice the way my voice wobbles.
“I never considered anybody else,” she admits. “I was just waiting for the right time to ask.”
“How exciting!” My mom raises her glass and everyone at the table follows suit. My dad grabs his old fashioned, the twins grab their sodas.
“To Elsie,” my mom says, smiling over at me with something like pride shining in her eyes. “May this new adventure be everything you dreamed of. I’m so proud of you and I can’t wait to see where this goes.”
“To Elsie,” my dad echoes. “Thanks for toughing it out at the store all those years when this is what you really wanted all along. I’m happy for you, kid.”
I wasn’t toughing it out, I want to assure him, though it might have felt that way at times.
But how can I not be grateful, despite it all?
Though I wasn’t happy doing the job itself, I recognize how privileged I am to have had the chance to stay in my hometown, working with my dad and becoming financially independent while I dreamed and schemed and got myself to where I am now, ready to start my own business before the age of thirty.
Even if it flops, how many people even get the chance to try?
“To Elsie,” my siblings and best friends echo.
As I raise my own glass, blinking back tears, I look around the table slowly, wanting to memorize everything about this moment.
My mom’s proud smile. My dad’s rapid blinking, like he, too, is fighting back tears.
The way Aiden sticks his tongue out and crosses his eyes at me, always the goofball making the serious moments more lighthearted.
Georgia’s eye roll and the elbow she jabs into our brother’s side.
Olivia’s beaming smile and the way she mouths, “Love you.” Grace’s wink and the kiss she blows to me.
All of my favorite people, celebrating me and encouraging me, lifting me up the way they always have.
How lucky am I?
I want my shop to be successful, but not just for me. I want to make these people who have always believed in me proud. I want them to look back on this moment and think, I knew she could do it.
As soon as I get that paperwork from Mr. Davis' lawyer and sign it, the real work begins.
I’ve got a flower shop to get up and running.