Chapter 31
Olivia
LUCY. Victor said that ADAM MIGHT BE MOVING ???
how am I hearing this from him and not you?
Gracie
NO
what is this news
???
Mom
I’m so confused. Is this a joke?
Me
Good morning to you guys, too
I found out the other night that Adam got a job offer that’s in another state. We barely spoke about it. He needs time to think it over, so it’s TBD for now.
Olivia
he is going to stay
Me
I’m trying to stress over one thing at a time. Right now, the festival. We can stress about his potential move in two days.
Mom
Of course, honey, I’m sure he won’t be packing up his bags and leaving this weekend or anything.
Gracie
i AM stressed about it though
tell him to call me
Olivia
nothing to call him about. He ain’t leaving. Even if he bought a plane ticket he wouldn’t board it. I saw him cuddled up with Luce in the back of Vic’s truck watching fireworks—the boy has got it bad.
Mom
To be honest, I’m not sure he would pass up on a new job because of some girl he just started dating. Though, if anyone is worth it, it’s Lucy.
Olivia
he also loves this town!! And his new friends! And his house! Vic told me he said he feels at home here!! There’s a lot he’d be staying for!
(but mostly the adorable girl he likes)
Gracie
why not pass up on a job for a girl you like? if you see potential??
when y’all were here didn’t Adam say something about how he’s always been looking for a place to settle down?
he didn’t say ‘I’ve always been looking for a better job’
Mom
Honey, I agree with your sisters.
He is staying.
Me
I cannot believe how you guys just say things like they’re facts. We cannot know if he is staying or not.
Ipulled the blankets over my head in the blurry morning light. I desperately wanted to talk to Adam about his job offer, but I was a terrible liar and knew he’d read the sadness all over my face. I would be the opposite of supportive and empathetic toward his needs. I’d be tempted to ask him to please stay while blinking away tears.
There was a crease between Adam’s eyes when he wanted to discuss something—when something was on his mind. A way he leaned into the conversation. The night he told me about the job offer, he’d pulled away from the conversation. He’d closed his eyes to it.
We had one more day until the festival. I can easily busy myself with work today and avoid any serious talks with Adam, I thought to myself, right before a message popped up on my phone.
Adam
Hey there. We have one last research trip. I’ll be at your place to pick you up in thirty.
We arrived at Scheller Farms on the outskirts of Sweet River, which boasted rolling hills of bright flowers as the late morning sun yawned across the sky. The soft dirt crunched under my white sneakers as we made our way across the field.
“Scheller Farms is going to run the build-your-own bouquet idea we had. They had their own version of it already called Bucket of Blooms. At their booth, you can grab a bucket and fill it with your choice of flowers, or, you know, blooms.” Adam and I walked side by side on the dirt path leading toward the small cabin-like offices in the middle of all the bursts of petals and colors.
“Bucket o’ blooms,” I said in a sing-songy voice.
“The owner, Ruth, wanted us to come and see the farm in person to choose our flower options,” Adam explained. In the sun his blue eyes were rippling ocean waves. “And I wanted one last research trip.”
One last…It was like a bullet in my skin. I rubbed my arm like I could comfort myself physically from the emotional sting.
Before I could respond, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat walked toward us. “Howdy,” she shouted as she made her way to us.
“Hi, there.” Adam bridged the distance, offering his hand to shake. Hers was tan and rough from working in the sun. “I’m Adam. We’ve spoken on the phone.”
“Adam, welcome to our farm! And who do we have here?” She turned to me.
“I’m Lucy Rhodes,” I said. “This,” I gestured to the bright fields around me, “is stunning.”
“I think so, too. My husband is a third-generation family farmer and I’d been dreaming of adding flowers to our cotton for decades. I’m the happiest flower farmer…each bloom grown with love.”
“We can’t wait to have your flowers at the festival,” Adam said.
“Well, I’m glad I could win you over to have more than just daisies!” Ruth teased with a wide smile.
I glanced between the two of them confused, asking, “Daisies?”
Adam’s cheeks went red.
“Yeah, I thought it was funny that Adam had asked on our first call if we could have a booth of only daisies. I told him I could, but I thought people would much prefer variety. Plus, we’re known for our hand-picked Bucket of Blooms we deliver to people each month.” She then looked at Adam. “You’re a daisy lover, huh?”
I turned to Adam as we followed behind Ruth. “Daisies, huh?” Only minutes earlier, I’d been twirling the daisy on his dashboard around in my fingers while on the drive here.
Adam’s cheeks were still flushed. “I didn’t think Ruth would out me like that.”
“I’ve noticed the daisies,” I said, my voice low only for the two of us. “In your office, in your car…”
“They make you smile,” he said simply. “So, I want them everywhere.”
He made me smile. Daisies had nothing on Adam. He was a natural at getting under my skin, for better or worse.
“Obsessed with me?” I cocked my head.
“Actually,” he chuckled, “you’ve got me wondering that myself.”
We toured the ranch with Ruth. In the middle of a stormy, busy week, it was a pocket of sunshine. It wasn’t a technical date, but the way Adam and I laughed easily, took pictures, and talked about everything (except the question pulsing in the back of my mind), it felt like our own version of a date.
As our time was ending and I climbed into his front seat, Adam dropped a fistful of daisies in my lap.
“Adam!” I exclaimed. “We weren’t supposed to pick those flowers, Mr. By the Book.”
He winked as he started the car. He placed his arm around the back of my seat as he reversed out of his parking spot, his warmth and scent now sweetly familiar to me. I’d never have to test if something was his now, I’d know from the first whiff.
Today felt like an unfair taste of something that might remain only ever a taste.
I knew myself. I’d been a little girl who couldn’t just keep the paint on her page, she had to cover herself in it head to toe. And now I was a woman who couldn’t just love kids, but had to teach a room full of them daily. I wasn’t someone who could enjoy something for the moment. I wanted it now, I wanted it all, and I wanted it forever.
“The daisies are a little selfish, too, I’ll admit,” Adam said, interrupting my thoughts. We locked eyes for a second before he looked back to the road. “They remind me of you. It’s why I started putting them everywhere. Like I get a bit of you in my spaces even when I can’t have all of you.”
I grabbed his hand and intertwined his fingers with mine.
“I’d normally be really relieved a big event like the festival was about to be over, but instead, I’m…” his voice trailed off. “Really going to miss this.” He squeezed my hand. “All of it.”
“I think that’s a sign you’re at the right job,” I said softly, looking down at the bundle of daisies, avoiding his gaze. “A sign you’re in the right place, maybe.”
He cleared his throat. “Maybe.”
A beat of silence passed between us before I added, “This is the end of an era.”
After he dropped me off at home, it was endless work, phone calls, and dinner on the go. I walked the festival one last time under gray, misty skies and drove home to the thud of windshield wipers.
Lightning flashed outside my bathroom window as I brushed my teeth before bed. Rain fell against the window as I pulled my comforter under my chin. Likely, the festival was going to be underwater tomorrow.
I tossed and turned with the past few months skipping in my mind like a scrapbook my heart had made against my better judgment: matching with Adam on Love Local, his ocean eyes crashing over me when I stormed into his office…and every tiny little moment since then. Tiny, little moments that felt as insignificant and natural as breathing in and out, but when I started to run out of them, I found myself gasping for more. I wasn’t ready for our story to end. I wanted it to last as long as it possibly could.
I kicked off my blankets and grabbed my phone. I opened my text thread with Adam and typed: Please don’t take the job offer. Please stay.
I stared at the message for a long time. All those Pinterest quotes about setting what you love free swirled in my mind. He didn’t need me texting him at—I looked at the clock— 2:00 a.m., a few hours before he’d be up for work. That would be about me, not Adam.
I dropped my phone beside me and fell back onto my bed. I pulled the pillow over my head. The storm outside was no match for the storm inside my own heart and mind.