12. Lucie
Lucie sat on the worn three-legged stool with her feet crossed, humming along to the radio, trying to figure out how to shade the inside of a seashell on the corner of an old receipt. The particular seashell she was doodling was a delicate spiral of creams and cobalt.
The shop was quiet today, just the faint hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak from the old floorboards. The last bus arrived an hour ago, bringing a gaggle of sunburned tourists. The bus schedule she’d taped to the counter showed the next one in twenty-seven minutes.
Polyester itched her neck. She tugged at the collar, praying for a rainstorm to take away the heat of the day.
Lucie’s thoughts turned to Finn for the thousandth time since she had woken up. Last night was like a dream. But the empty bag of food, hidden at the bottom of her trash can, proved she hadn’t conjured him.
Finn. She’d probably said his name in her head more than a thousand times.
Lost in her daydream, Lucie stopped with a startled gasp as a daisy tapped her nose.
“Hey, you,” Finn said, his voice low and warm. It was as rich as whiskey.
Did he materialize simply with a thought? No. If he had, he would have interrupted her while she was eating cereal or taking out the trash that morning.
He leaned casually against the counter, with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, a playful grin on his face. The bouquet was a bright mix of citrine, blushing peony, and cornflower blue. All of her favorite flowers were in the mix. He remembered. Don’t cry.
Tomorrow had actually come, and he didn’t break his promise.
“Are those for me?” she wondered.
“I don’t see any other beautiful girls around here, do you?” Finn said, giving her a heart-stopping half-grin and playfully tugging one of her braids.
Without thinking, she rounded the corner and threw her arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest. He stood there for a second, shocked, and Lucie was scared he might not hug her back, but that fear disappeared as he enveloped her, holding her just as tightly, if not more.
As she pulled away, he passed her the flowers. A small note she hadn’t seen before was nestled in the blossoms. She suppressed a giggle behind her hand and glanced toward the employees-only door.
Her dad came in much later last night and hadn’t gotten out of bed to eat the breakfast she’d made for him. She would have enough time to read the letter now and go upstairs to hide her gift before the next bus full of tourists arrived.
Lucie unfolded the pink envelope and read Finn’s neat handwriting:
“Is this for real?” she asked, reality pulling her down.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his feet. “Whaddaya say?”
“I don’t know if I can get out of work. My dad . . .” She fidgeted with her pinkie finger.
“I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be back an hour before the shop opens,” Finn promised.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you. It would take too long to get there. You wouldn’t have time to spend at the beach like you normally do. What about the miles on your car?” she rambled, picking up speed at the end.
“This is your dream, Lu. It’s important to you. Don’t you wanna go?” he asked, tilting his head.
For the first time in a long time, Lucie remembered what her mom’s laugh sounded like. She had to go for her. There was so much she hadn’t gotten to do with her mom. If she didn’t, she’d spend the rest of her life wishing she had.
Just be cool. Calm. Collected. Just open your mouth and tell him yes.
“I’d love to go!” Lucie blurted out. Awesome. Great job. Real discreet. “I mean, yeah, that sounds great. When?”
Finn’s smile widened, and he looked almost relieved. “Three days,” Finn confirmed. “Just be ready in your room by midnight.”
Her laughter echoed off the walls. She was so glad that nobody was there to witness her making a fool of herself, but she didn’t care. Happiness rose like bubbles in a fizzy soda.
The idea of spending time with Finn—outside—away from this place made her feel giddy. But she was as fragile as a bubble rising too high, ready to pop with the small, nagging worry about getting caught.
Her father would kill her if he knew she was going to sneak out of the house. Much less if she snuck out with a man. And even worse, if that guy were the Ranger. Maybe she should pick out her headstone at the same time she picked out her outfit?
Here lies Lucie. Died happy and in a beautiful top. RIP.
She clutched the bouquet to her chest, her heart fluttering as she looked up at him.
“I’ve never gotten flowers before. Thank you,” she said, stepping in to hug him again. His comforting scent of warm leather wrapped around her.
“Then I’ll plant you a garden,” he vowed, wrapping his arms around her.
The promise thrilled and drilled a nervousness into her. She didn’t want him to make promises he couldn’t keep.
Just as she was about to refute, the bell tinkled over the door, signaling a customer’s arrival.
Her attention snapped to the stunning blond couple who walked in wearing absurd outfits.
“Hi, welcome to Daryl’s Dash and Fast. Let me know if I can help you find anything,” she said with a smile to the couple. The blonde woman wore a beige floppy sunhat and oversized sunglasses, and the sandy blond man, equally handsome, wore dark shades and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
Her first thought was that they might have been movie stars trying to keep a low profile. It had happened once. But she didn’t recognize the pair in front of her.
But Finn sure seemed to.
“What are you two doing here?” Finn said, stepping away from her, tension radiating off him in waves.
The man flashed a warm smile that lit up his whole face. One dimple appeared. He replied, “My girlfriend and I were just on a little trip, and she said she had a hankering for some cherry sours, and wouldn’t you know it, we found this cute little place.”
“How convenient,” Finn growled, his eyes narrowing as he watched them.
“Very convenient.” The beautiful woman’s green eyes twinkled as she tilted her sunglasses down, giving Finn a wink.
“Well, it is a convenience store,” the man said, clapping his hands together. “Oh, look, Slinkies.” The man wandered over toward aisle seven.
Lucie smiled, trying to hide her own confusion.
What is going on?
“Well, take your time. Cherry sours are on aisle four. We’ve got all kinds of sweets and snacks there as well. I’m happy to help you find something you like,” Lucie said, putting on her best customer-service voice.
Lucie moved around Finn to assist them, and the man returned with a blue-and-green Slinky.
Finn followed closely, his back ramrod straight, scowling at the couple.
“We also have sweatshirts on sale today,” Lucie said, leading them to the candy aisle.
The sweatshirts were on sale every day. It was something her dad told her to say. A marketing strategy. A way to make something seem more valuable. Like they were flying off the shelves, so customers just had to buy them that second, or they would be gone the next time they came in.
“They don’t need ‘em. I’m sure they’re in a hurry, right?” Finn seethed as he shot the couple a pointed look.
Lucie’s eyebrows scrunched together. Why was he trying to get rid of them? Maybe he just wanted them to leave so they could have more alone time. But what if I lost a sale?
The handsome stranger said, stifling a laugh, batting a hand at him, “Oh, no. We’re in no rush. Just browsing. Taking in the sights. A bit of a joyride, if you will.”
The woman glanced at the bouquet in Lucie’s hands and commented, “Ah, those are such pretty flowers. That’s sweet. Did your boyfriend give them to you?”
The word boyfriend expanded and filled the whole room, exploding like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The silence after the grand finale was about the same, too. But nobody applauded at the end of this show.
Finn seized the moment to step closer to the couple, gently nudging them toward the exit.
“Well, it was nice meeting you both. I hope you find what you’re looking for. We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” Finn rushed, pushing the couple out the door.
The male tourist gave Finn a playful, knowing smile. “Right, we can see that. But don’t worry, we don’t mind,” the man said, waving a hand as Finn continued to push him out.
“You won’t even know we’re here,” the woman said in agreement.
“I know you’re here,” Finn interrupted.
“We were just curious about the place. We didn’t know you had such great taste,” the male tourist said.
“Or that he was such a great florist,” the woman giggled, winking at Lucie. Lucie pulled the bouquet closer to her chest. Was the woman trying to steal her flowers?
“Okay, time to go. Thanks for coming.” Finn practically pushed them out the door.
“But I didn’t get my cherry sours,” the woman whined.
Finn grabbed a small bag, dropped it into her hands, placed his hand on top of her head, and turned her around.
“I’ll pay for them,” Finn promised. “Say goodbye, everyone.”
The couple yelled out their goodbyes, waved, and laughed as Finn pushed them out and closed the door. The bell was still ringing as he turned back around, bright red.
“Sorry about that,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.
He fished out a twenty-dollar bill, way more than what the candy was worth, and gave it to Lucie.
“I’ve seen them before a lot at the . . .
Ranger Station. They’re a bunch of nosy tourists,” he called out louder, toward the door.
“It’s easier to get rid of them before they cause too much trouble. ”
His usual confidence seemed to have vanished, replaced by a bashful grin that made her heart tap dance, do-si-do, and finish with jazz hands.
“So . . . um, I’ll see you Sunday,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head. Lucie swore she saw longing in his eyes, as if he were already counting down the seconds until Sunday. But it might have been only her imagination, her own reflected wishful hopes.
Lucie bit her lip, holding back a smile. “I’ll be ready.”
Finn gave her a quick nod, then waved, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.
“Careful,” Lucie called out, laughing softly.
He flashed her a final, sheepish grin before stepping outside.
Lucie returned to her spot behind the counter, then picked up the note. Her index finger traced his neat handwriting.
This was real. It was happening. He liked her. She really liked him, and she was going on a date to the beach! And more importantly, he kept his promise.
In three days, she would finally know what sand felt like between her toes and be able to collect her own seashells.
She leaned into the bouquet, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Everything will be wonderful. I have a happy life. I am allowed to be happy.
Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.