
The scent of dew-kissed roses fills the air from the bushes out front of my Florist Shop, a gentle reminder of how blooms can bolster a mood as they just did mine. Yesterday I commiserated with my cousins over my shattered heart, yet today is another chance to bring joy to someone’s life. Or maybe at the very least, a bit of peacefulness.
Beauty.
I take a deep breath, letting the fragrance envelop me as I push open the door, bell roaring its earth shattering wail. My cat shifts his weight in the canvas carrier, clearly objecting to the noise, so I coo to him, “It’s okay Ralphie. It’s a lot louder when you’re right next to the speaker. You remember, don’t you? You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are.”
I continue inside, flipping on the light switch, sunlight dancing through floor-to-ceiling windows onto brick-colored tile floors. My heart calms with relief. This shop isn’t just a place to work, or a thing I pay a lease on; it’s my sanctuary. I’ve spent countless hours here arranging flowers, perfecting the displays, trimming plants, and dreaming of the smiles each bouquet or pot will bring to customers I either know by name or complete strangers I may never see again. Even though I left in a hurry last night, dialing my cousins with an S.O.S. to come to my apartment and support me, I’ve perfected an exit-the-shop routine, so everything is organized. Everything in its place.
“Oh no!”
Except the one thing that shouldn’t be here; the arrangement for the hotel I ditched in my haste. Completely forgot about it!
Looking at the beautiful and fragrant, massive arrangement, I chide myself aloud, “Oh Zoe, and you thought you were shop-closing ADHD proof,” with no one but my cat to hear me, “What’s more important? Ryder Hamilton springing a girlfriend on you, or responsibly carrying out such an amazing order to completion?” I stop in front of it, touching a sprig of Lavender as I sigh, “Love of course. Love always wins over money. That includes self-love. But still!”
Walking up to the long marble counter, I place Ralphie’s carrier next to my shop’s computer and pay machine, beside it a small display of cards which customers buy to sign for their gifted flora and fauna. The sun's rays catch on Ralphie’s green eyes through the mesh screen of his carrier, illuminating them in a way that makes them seem to glow. “Meow!” he commands me.
“Okay, okay,” I smile, and unzip his soft cage, pulling down the pliable fabric corners so he can jump out more easily.
“Meow,” he thanks me and strolls away, having found a warm streak of sun to sleep in on the counter’s far end where he knows he’ll be out of the way.
“I wish I’d brought you with me here yesterday, Ralphie. I could have used the support,” I mumble, adding quickly, “But I’m glad you’re here now,” to remind myself to stay in the moment, not dwell on the past, as I grab vases from the shelves, one by one, and set them with room between. Checking the computer quickly for online orders, I lay out some more and head into the refrigerated room, “Hello my beauties, how are you all doing this morning?” the scent of oh so many varietals caressing my soul. Selecting from memory the ones I need, I return to my waiting vases and start arranging flowers, fingers moving instinctively as I pull together first a vibrant mix of orange tulips, pink Gerbera daisies, and even paler pink peonies.
Just as I finish the last bouquet, the door swings open, bell wailing, and in walks Tom, my delivery employee. He’s a tall, easygoing guy, with tousled hair, a permanent, crooked grin, and khaki cargo pants with a blue polo shirt that make him seem like he just stepped off a beach. “Morning, Zoe!” he calls out, deep voice warm and friendly.
“Hey, Tom! You’re right on time. Have I thanked you lately for being so reliable?”
“You did yesterday morning.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot. Well, I just finished the orders for delivery today.” I wipe my hands on pale blue jeans, smooth the hem of my white silk blouse, and feel a rush of satisfaction as I point my chin toward the lined up bouquet vases.
Tom approaches, leaning forward to get a better look, and inhale the calming aroma. “Wow, these are beautiful! Where are these going today? I gotta say, the customers will be stunned by what you did here.”
I can’t help but smile at his compliment. “We have three dozen red roses going to the Kellers for their anniversary, these seven vases with the mixes of seasonal blooms are for Mrs. Thompson’s birthday, and these two dozen sympathy arrangements are for the Johnson family wake.”
Tom nods, jotting down notes on his clipboard. “I can take them all. The roses and the birthday bouquet should be fun. The sympathy arrangements will need to be handled with care, right?”
I ask, “Don’t they all?” confused.
“Because of the incident.”
“Oh,” I sigh, a pang of sympathy twisting my heart as I remember. “Yes, his untimely death while robbing that store has made mourning a little tricky for them. I’d quietly deliver these and get out of there as soon as possible. The father didn’t even want flowers. I was surprised when I saw the order.”
“Yeah, their grief is complicated, isn’t it,” Tom nods, lips pressed together in thought. He shrugs is off. “Let me run and grab my sturdy boxes.” He pauses at the immense display I created yesterday. “Look at that! How did I walk right by this and not see it?” He jogs a thumb at the arrangement. “Where is it headed?”
“The Four Seasons Hotel.”
He strolls around the large round glass table I bought at a yard sale, where the arrangement sits beside flourishing potted pants all labeled for sale. “This is somethin’ else. You’ve outdone yourself, Boss. But I don’t think it’ll fit in my Jeep with all of the other ones. Want me to take this bad boy first and come back for the rest?”
I frown in thought, gaze drifting back and forth between the many orders that must go out today, weighing the time-table schedule they’re expected arrivals demand. “Hmm… that could work. Oh wait, no. The funeral is at eleven o’clock this morning and you won’t be back in time. They’ll need ample to display them and you know…process the impact.”
“You mean have an argument? Better to be safe than sorry. Four Seasons last then?”
Considering it, I hum again, “Hmm…” as Ralphie stretches and walks across the counter toward me, slinking between flower vases, his own personal obstacle course. “That was meant for last night.” I frown, disappointed in myself. “But something came up.”
“You’re never late with an order. Not since I’ve been working for you.” Tom tilts his head. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, it was just…” I give a self-conscious laugh and tuck a stray lock of hair back into my hurried messy bun. “It was nothing. Just got sideswiped by something I didn’t expect. Something bad. Which is how we get sideswiped, right? It’s not like you can prepare for a side-swipe. I’m rambling. You know I do that.”
Tom looks at me with concern, like he doesn’t believe what happened to me wasn’t important. “You’re always peaceful every time I see you.” He walks closer, more intimate. “Everyone alright in your family?”
I gasp, “Oh no! It was nothing like that! We’re all fine. Thank you, Tom.” Touching one of the peonies, I remember Margot’s face, how she seemed so blasé doing the thing I’ve always wanted to do. Hold Ryder’s hand and be called his girlfriend. Have I been pining away on a fantasy all these years? In love with what could be rather than what is? That’s a source of misery I no longer want to swim in. “You know what? I think I’ll go to the Four Seasons myself and you can take the rest. I’ll put a sign on the door for how long I’ll be gone. I could use a drive.”
Tom grins like he’s happy about the smile this idea gave me, “Works for me, Boss,” and leaves to retrieve his boxes. With a moment to spare I check the computer for any new orders, find none, and glance up as the bell roars his return. Tom strolls in, gathers the bouquets, and I take a moment to watch him bend and load them into his sturdy boxes. He’s in great shape as I’ve noticed most delivery people seem to be. I guess carrying packages both light and heavy up stairs all day, plus all the walking they do, keeps them fit. He glances up, catches me watching, and gives his lopsided smile. “You know, the way the sun is catching in your beautiful green eyes, Zoe, it’s almost like they’re glowing.”
I blush, glancing down at my splotchy fingernails. Need to paint these again. “I thought the same thing about Ralphie when I set him down today. The sun caught in his eyes, too.”
“You share the same color,” Tom remarks. “A pale perfect green.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, heart thudding a little.
He completes loading the flowers, unaware I’m now following his every move. I realize suddenly how reassuring it is having someone like Tom by my side in this dream business of mine. He’s not just my delivery guy; he’s part of the little family we’ve created here. It’s me, my two part-time florists Amelia and Perry, and Tom. They’re all such nice people. Oh, and Ralphie Rooster. My cat is just as much a part of the family as any of us. “So, how’s your day looking after this?” I ask, shocking myself.
“Not too bad. Got a few more deliveries lined up with my other job later. Always around though if you have more orders come in. Then I thought I might stop by that new café after work,” he replies, his blue eyes lighting up.
He didn’t ask why I asked.
I could just try…
Say it myself.
Take a chance.
Would you like someone to go to the café with you?
“Sounds fun!” I smile, “Let me know how it is. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”
Did I just drop a hint?
Yes.
Yes, I did.
“Hey…” he straightens up, dragging strong fingers through his unruly hair.
“Yes?” I ask, hopeful.
“…if you change your mind and need me to deliver that to the hotel, you know how to reach me.” Deflated, I watch him make several trips, the bouquets secured, until Tom waves goodbye and steps out into the bright morning for good, bell hollering behind him.
Left alone now, I wonder if I should kick myself for not keeping my promise to Lexi. Take a chance, she said. Under my breath I mutter, “Don’t mess with a good thing, Zoe. You can’t ask out your employees!”
The bell screams and I glance up to see Tom poking his crooked smile inside. “Did I leave my clipboard here?”
Would you like to check out that café together?
Clearing my throat, I look around. “Yup, it’s right there.”
“Huh.” He dashes in, swipes it from the round glass table. “Got it! See ya later, Boss!”
“Bye,” I wave, wondering if his forgotten clipboard was my Guardian Angel giving me another chance to…take a chance.
And I missed it.
Suddenly feeling the silence, I pet my cat and bend to kiss his fluffy white ear. “You wanna see a grand hotel with me today, Ralphie?”
“Meow!”
“I don’t know if they allow you to be there, but I’m going to get my kitty backpack just the same. Can’t use the carrier and have my hands free for the flowers, now can I?” I pause. “Maybe I should call and ask if they have a no-cat policy? But then they might say they do, and I wouldn’t have your company when I need it. Hmm. What is it that Hunter likes to say? Oh yeah. It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”
Take a chance, Zoe.
As I tuck my fluffy, sweet, little friend snugly into the pack, slide on the straps, and walk to lift the heavy vase from where it wasn’t meant to live, I can’t help but feel that today is off to a weird start.
"I don't know, Ralphie," I frown, balancing the arrangement as I lock up. "Can it get any weirder?" Smiling to myself I hurriedly add, "Best not to say that and tempt fate."

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