Chapter 23
The Flower Cottage smelled like spring, despite the snow piled along the sidewalk.
Beth followed Kayla through the door and into the warmth of the little store. Buckets of flowers filled one side of the shop, bringing splashes of pink, cream, yellow, and green to the gray morning. The delicate scent of roses mingled with the stronger fragrance of eucalyptus and greenery.
Paris appeared from the workroom at the back of the store, carrying a wide glass vase filled with pale pink roses.
Her jet-black hair was pulled into a loose knot, and her bright blue eyes lit up when she saw them.
“Kayla! I’m so glad you’re here.”
Kayla smiled as Paris hugged her. “Mom said you had some flowers you wanted to show me.”
“I do. The timing couldn’t have been better. I’m putting together the bouquets for a wedding this afternoon, and the bride chose some of the same flowers we talked about using for yours.”
Paris carried the vase to a table, then led Beth and Kayla into the workroom behind the front counter.
Several finished bouquets were waiting there, surrounded by ribbons, scissors, and loose pieces of greenery. Beth stopped beside Kayla as Paris picked up one of the larger arrangements.
The bouquet was simple and romantic, with cream roses, pale pink ranunculus, white lisianthus, and soft greenery spilling loosely around the edges.
Kayla’s face immediately brightened. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”
“I thought you’d like it.” Paris turned the bouquet so they could see it from every angle. “The bride wanted fuller arrangements, but if you want something smaller, I could do that.”
Kayla studied the bouquet. “I don’t want anything that looks too perfect. Does that make sense?”
“Completely.” Paris pulled a few stems from a bucket and loosely arranged them in her hand as she talked. She showed Kayla how using fewer roses and more delicate flowers would make the bouquet feel softer and more natural.
Beth watched her daughter’s expression change as Paris added a sprig of greenery and then a small white flower.
There it was.
The look Beth had been waiting for.
Kayla had approached most of the wedding decisions practically. She and Tyler wanted a small ceremony with the people closest to them, good food, plenty of laughter, and nothing that left them paying for the wedding for years afterward.
But every now and then, one small detail made it real.
Her dress had done it.
And now the flowers had, too.
Kayla looked at Beth. “What do you think, Mom?”
“I think they’re perfect for you.”
Her daughter smiled and turned back to Paris. “Can we have some of the pale pink roses, too?”
“Absolutely. And I can use the same flowers for Tyler’s boutonniere and the table arrangements so everything ties together.”
They spent the next twenty minutes discussing the ceremony and dinner afterward.
Kayla didn’t want elaborate centerpieces, so Paris suggested small arrangements in glass vases, with candles between them.
She made notes about the flowers Kayla liked, showed them different ribbon samples, and promised to send photographs of two slightly different bouquets before ordering anything.
By the time they’d finished, Beth could almost picture the reception.
A long table would be filled with family and friends. Flowers and candles. Fairy lights and ribbon. Kayla and Tyler surrounded by the people who loved them.
The thought brought the familiar mixture of happiness and wistfulness that Beth had felt since the wedding plans began.
Her little girl was getting married.
Beth wondered if there would ever come a time when that sentence didn’t catch at her heart.
Paris returned the flowers to their buckets. “Beth tells me you’re testing the wedding cakes today.”
Kayla groaned happily. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
“You’d better leave room for the cake after we have lunch,” Beth said. “If the cakes are as good as they look, they’ll be delicious.”
“I never thought they wouldn’t be,” Kayla said with a mischievous smile.
Paris laughed. “Have you decided which flavors you want?”
Kayla nodded. “Banana, chocolate, and carrot cake.”
“You’re having three flavors?”
“One for each tier.” Kayla’s enthusiasm made Beth smile. “Tyler’s favorite is carrot cake. Mine is chocolate.”
“It’s my favorite, too,” Beth admitted.
Kayla slipped an arm around her shoulders. “That’s because you have excellent taste.”
“In cake, anyway.”
Paris glanced at the clock on the wall. “You’d better go before I keep you talking all morning.”
Kayla looked around the workroom. “Thank you, Paris. Seeing everything like this makes it feel much more real.”
“That’s the fun part.” Paris hugged her again. “Enjoy the cake testing.”
“We will.” Beth thanked Paris and followed Kayla toward the door. The bell jingled behind them as they stepped into the cold.
Kayla immediately tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “I love the flowers, Mom.”
Beth grinned. “I could tell.”
“Was I that obvious?”
“You’ve had the same expression on your face since you were five whenever you really loved something.”
Kayla laughed as they walked toward Beth’s truck. “Then I suppose it’s lucky Tyler likes pink.”
“He’d probably agree to orange flowers if you wanted them.”
“He would,” Kayla agreed. “Which is why I’m not taking advantage of him.”
Beth smiled as she unlocked the truck.
They had several more stops to make before the cake testing, but Kayla had been talking about one place almost as much as she’d talked about cake.
The arts center.
By eleven-thirty, the snow had stopped and weak sunshine was breaking through the clouds when Beth turned onto Main Street.
“There it is,” she said, pointing ahead.
Kayla leaned forward in her seat.
Beth had driven past the building so many times over the last few weeks that she sometimes forgot how much it had changed. The old hardware store she’d first walked into with Natalie had been dark, cold, and neglected.
Now, even from the street, it looked different.
The restored windows gleamed beneath the winter sun. The new sign above the entrance had been installed two days earlier, and through the glass doors Beth could see the warm glow of the gallery lighting.
Kayla stared at the building. “Wow, Mom. You helped do all of this?”
Something about the wonder in her daughter’s voice made Beth’s throat tighten.
“I had a lot of help.” She pulled into a parking space and switched off the engine.
Kayla was still looking at the building.
Beth followed her gaze, and for perhaps the first time, she tried to see the arts center through someone else’s eyes.
She remembered the sagging ceiling and water-damaged walls. The folders she’d carried everywhere because she was terrified she’d forget something important.
She also remembered the first morning she’d stood beside Dave studying a crack in the plaster and wondering whether accepting the job had been an enormous mistake.
So much had happened since then, and not all of it had been about the building.
“Come on,” Beth said, reaching for her bag. “I’ll show you around.”
They crossed the parking lot together and Beth unlocked the front door.
When they walked into the main events area, Kayla stopped beside the new reception counter and ran her hand across the restored oak. “This is gorgeous.”
Beth switched on the lights. “You should have seen what it looked like when we found it.”
The gallery illuminated in stages, warm pools of light spreading across the finished wall.
Kayla walked farther into the room, slowly turning in a circle. “Oh, Mom.”
Beth smiled. She’d imagined bringing Kayla here from almost the first week she’d started the job. Now her daughter was finally standing inside the place that had changed so much of Beth’s life. And Beth suddenly couldn’t wait to show her everything.
“Mom, this is incredible.” Kayla looked up at the tin ceiling, then at the man crossing the room toward them.
Beth was surprised that Dave was here. “Hi, Dave. I thought you were going to Polson today.”
He smiled at Beth. “We changed it to tomorrow. Mark had to fly to Denver at the last minute. Hank and I are finishing some skirting that wasn’t done yesterday.” He glanced at Kayla. “You have your mom’s eyes. You must be Kayla.”
Kayla held out her hand. “And you must be Dave, the person in charge of the renovation. I’ve heard almost nothing about you, which for my mother is basically a confession.”
“Kayla.” Beth felt her face go warm.
“I’ve heard plenty about you,” Dave said easily, shaking her hand. “Culinary program in Missoula. Wedding in May. Your mother’s very proud, in case that wasn’t obvious.”
“It’s obvious.” Kayla’s eyes went from Dave to Beth and back again, something bright and knowing working behind them. “You had to move the desk that wasn’t in the right place.”
Dave nodded. “I did.”
“Mom still isn’t sure it’s in the right place,” Kayla added.
Dave smiled. “I’m aware.”
Beth watched the two of them fall into an easy back-and-forth that took perhaps ninety seconds to make her feel entirely outnumbered. And she didn’t mind it nearly as much as she probably should have.
A few minutes later, Dave excused himself and went into the room at the far end of the corridor.
Kayla waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Beth.
Beth shook her head. “Don’t say it.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“You’re about to.”
Kayla took Beth’s arm and steered her toward the opposite side of the room.
“You’ve told me my whole life not to make myself small.
Every time I doubted myself, every time I almost said no to Tyler because I was scared of wanting something that big—you were the one telling me to stop being careful.
” The teasing tone in her voice disappeared.
“Mom, look at what just happened. You lit up the second Dave walked over, and then you spent the rest of the time pretending you hadn’t. I think you really like him.”
“It’s not that simple, Kayla.”
“Why not?”
Beth opened her mouth, but realized she didn’t have an answer, not a real one that held up against her daughter’s loving expression.
“I don’t know,” she admitted finally, quieter than she meant to.
“I built a different life after your father died. It was careful and contained.” She looked at where Dave had gone.
“Somewhere along the way, I stopped knowing how to want anything for myself, Kayla. I’m not sure I remember how to start again. ”
“You didn’t forget.” Kayla gently squeezed her arm. She was so much her mother’s daughter in that moment, that Beth felt something catch in her throat. “You’re just scared. That’s different. And for what it’s worth, your more confident than you’ve been in six years.”
Beth held her daughter’s arm. “Confident or not, we have to be at the restaurant soon. We can talk about Dave later.”
They walked back to Beth’s truck in a comfortable silence, the air sharp and clean around them. Beth thought about her daughter’s dress fitting in two weeks’ time, the cake sketches on the kitchen table, the whole bright future Kayla was walking toward.
And she wondered, just for a moment, if there was a bright future waiting for her, too.