Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Griffin
I’m driving to the shop and can’t stop yawning. That’s what a night with no sleep does. All I can think about is yesterday. How when I learned Ruby was gone, that I’d hurt her deeply, it stung something awful.
I never told Nick that Ruby didn’t know. Why would he ever think I’d tell him before my business partner? Still, no matter how you cut it, the store is in the red. Him telling her didn’t change that.
I’ll apologize, explain my rationale, show her the numbers once more, make her see the practical next step.
I turn onto Main Street like I’ve done most mornings since I arrived in this small town. Same route, same playlist in the background. And nearly drive into a lamppost.
SAVE OOPSIE DAISIES! is in big black letters on the theater’s marquee. Across the street, Sweet Peak Café’s windows are plastered with pink flyers. So is the bookshop… and the hardware store.
I cut the engine in front of the flower shop. Right there in the window, written in looping letters across a giant chalkboard:
COMMUNITY FLOWER ARRANGING CLASSES!
FREE! DAILY! ALL AGES!
LET’S BLOOM TOGETHER!
I grip the steering wheel. Hard.
Free.
No revenue. No structure. No plan.
Somehow, Ruby did this overnight. Clearly, she has no intention of letting go of the shop, despite its lack of financial viability.
I need to think, process. Figure out how I’m going to handle this without Ruby hating me forever.
I decide to stick with my routine. Coffee.
I hesitate before heading into Sweet Peak. It feels like enemy territory. But I’m not the enemy. I’m the pathetic guy who was put in this lose-lose situation.
The door swings open and Mrs. P. waddles out with a pile of pink flyers in hand. She offers me one.
Save Oopsie Daisies.
A large graphic of a potted flower holding an SOS sign. I would’ve expected to see my face superimposed as the Big Bad Wolf.
Mrs. P. practically beams. “Isn’t Ruby’s idea wonderful? It’s sure to keep the flower shop open.”
I grunt something unintelligible.
She places a gloved hand on my arm, catches my gaze. “She’s fighting for the shop she loves. Sometimes people fight hardest when their heart’s involved.”
I swallow, feeling a pinch in my chest. Because she’s right. Ruby’s heart is in that shop. In the town. In everything she touches.
And meanwhile, I’ve spent nearly four weeks doing everything I can to separate her from what she loves. I’ve checked every invoice, tax form, you name it. When what I should’ve also been doing is finding creative ways to save it. It’s what she tried to ask of me weeks ago. What Clara asked of me.
The responsible part of me is shouting, This is unsustainable! The other part—the one I don’t speak to often—is whispering, Then help her find a way.
I glance around at the signs and pink flyers fluttering in the winter breeze. I look back at Oopsie Daisies. Ruby is inside, laughing with someone. Teaching. Smiling. Trying to save the store… from me.
I stand there for a long moment, heart and logic at war, wondering when exactly Ruby became the one thing I can’t add up neatly on a spreadsheet. I turn on my heel and walk away.