Violet
“A yawn is a silent scream for coffee.”
“Everett Callahan kissed me!”
My teenage self would be freaking out right now. Much like my current adult self is.
The thought alone makes my stomach flutter for the hundredth time since last night.
I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush paused halfway in my mouth, as if maybe saying it out loud again would somehow make it feel less surreal.
It doesn’t.
I rinse my mouth, letting out a quiet breath.
The memory of it replays. His hand gently on my jaw, the way he looked at me like he wanted to make sure we were on the same page before he kissed me.
Ryan never did any of that. I don’t think he ever really cared about what I wanted. The thought of Ryan used to make me feel like I had a knot in my stomach that I couldn’t undo.
But today, it feels more distant. Not gone.
Maybe it never would be completely gone. But it’s getting smaller. Like a chapter of my life that no longer defines the rest of the book.
I reach for my curling iron and plug it in, even though my hair is curly, there are those annoying pieces that always need to be touched up.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I still have time before meeting my sisters at the flower farm.
Which means my brain has time to keep spiraling.
My gaze drifts back to the mirror. I still can’t believe that I expressed what was bothering me. I told him I was confused, that I thought the flirting was all in my head. The memory still makes me cringe.
God, I had been so sure I was about to embarrass myself.
Instead, he listened, truly listened. And then he told me the truth.
He didn’t kiss me because he wanted it to be special. Because he didn’t want to kiss me for the first time beside a goat. A laugh slips out as I curl a piece of hair.
Saturday. Saturday night is our date night. A real one. Just us. No fundraiser planning, no town watching like he said.
I turn off the curling iron.
“You’re smiling like an idiot,” I tell myself, looking in the mirror.
But honestly, I don’t care.
Not rushed, not forced, just natural.
And Everett had made it clear last night that he feels it too.
My heart warms at the memory of what he said.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I have to tell my sisters. Which means I am about to endure a level of teasing I probably deserve. It’s fine, I know they mean well, I know they only want me to be happy.
I grab my keys, slip on a light sweater, and head out the door.
In my car, I have the thought, did I turn the curling iron off? Running back inside I realize that I did and I head back outside to go to my parents.
The drive to my parents’ flower farm always feels like stepping into another version of my life.
One where things are slower.
The gravel road crunches under my tires, and I pull up beside the old white barn, rows of early spring flowers stretching across the fields in neat, colorful lines.
Tulips.
Daisies.
Ranunculus.
My sister’s cars are already there.
I step out of my car just as the farmhouse door opens.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Lily calls.
Daphne is sipping iced coffee against the porch railing. “We were starting to think you got distracted.”
Rose folds her arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Or delayed,” Lily adds with a grin, “by a tall, handsome theater owner.”
I freeze mid-step.
“You already know?” I ask.
Lily smiles and laughs. “We don’t, but you just admitted it, plus you’re glowing like a Hallmark movie heroine.”
“I am not glowing,” I say.
“You absolutely are,” Daphne says, calmly.
Rose hands me a pair of garden shears. “Before we interrogate you,” she says, “we need flowers.”
We walk out into the rows together, wicker baskets hanging from our arms as we clip stems. The only sounds are the soft snip of shears and birds somewhere in the trees.
Then Lily clears her throat.
“So,” she says.
“So?” I ask, cautiously.
“So…are you going to tell us about Everett?” Lily asks.
I sigh. “Yeah, of course, just remember, this is the first guy I have been interested in since Ryan, so be nice.”
I clip a tulip and drop it into my basket.
“We kissed,” I confess.
All three of them stop what they are doing.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Lily says sarcastically.
Rose blinks, “When?”
“Last night in the café,” I say with a smile.
Lily clasps her hands dramatically.
“Oh my god!” she says.
Daphne laughs softly. “Let her finish guys!”
“How was it?” Lily asks.
“Really nice, sweet, romantic.” I smile, remembering everything about last night.
“Before it happened, I told him I thought I imagined all the flirting.”
“You did?” Rose asks.
Lily laughs. “That’s bold.”
“I know, I thought I nearly died of embarrassment,” I say.
“What did he say?” Daphne asks.
“That he didn’t kiss me at the fundraiser because he didn’t want our first kiss to be in front of the entire town, or beside a goat,” I explain.
“Well, that’s considerate,” Lily says.
“He said he wanted it to happen somewhere quiet, just us,” I say. “And he asked me on a date,” I threw in.
Lily gasps. “When? Where?”
“Saturday night,” I say, clipping some more flowers. “He said it’s a surprise.”
Rose nudges my shoulder gently. “Vi, I’m proud of you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For trusting someone again,” she responds.
“I was scared to bring it up,” I admit. “I thought he would think I was ridiculous.”
“But he didn’t,” Daphne says.
“No, he didn’t. He told me that he hasn’t stopped thinking about me since the day he first saw me at the café.”
Lily makes a high-pitched squealing noise that I swear only dogs can hear. “Oh my god!”
We reach the far edge of the field where a massive tree stands, its thick trunk and wide branches creating a shaded canopy. It is our secret spot. When we were kids, we had discovered the small clearing behind it by accident, it has been ours ever since.
Daphne pushes aside the branches first. “Still perfect,” she says.
The clearing looks the same. Soft grass, wildflowers. The big flat rock we use as a table. Rose packed a picnic; we spread out a blanket and unpacked the food. Mini sandwiches, fruit, crackers and cheese.
“You deserve this,” Daphne says quietly.
“Someone good,” Rose adds.
“And Everett seems like a really good guy,” Lily finishes.
“Yeah,” I say, grinning softly.
For the first time in a long time, I believe it too. That I deserve a good guy.