Tahira in Bloom

by Heron, Farah

  “No, the Bloom is too important to him. Also, it was supposed to be important for me, too. Remember? Christopher Chan is going to be at the Grand Floral Cup?”

  “Oh, he’s still doing it? I was going to ask you about that. I read yesterday that Christopher Chan was taking this designer-in-residence post for some art museum in Helsinki in the fall, but I suppose—”

  “What? Let me check . . .” I switched my call to speaker and went to the Grand Floral Cup site. And yup. There had been a judge change. Christopher Chan was out; some bridal florist to the stars was in.

  “Shoot,” I said. “You’re right. He’s not even going to be there.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. But that should make your decision easier, at least?”

  Did it? It didn’t feel any easier.

  “Tahira, you’re in a hard spot,” Nilusha said. “If you feel it’s important to stay and do your flower competition, then other opportunities will come up. But honestly? You can make some killer connections here this weekend. What do your instincts tell you?”

  My instincts told me there was nothing more important than my Plan. My goals.

  I sighed. “You’re right. My career comes first. I’ll come to Toronto.”

  It was the right choice. Even if it made me feel terrible. Even if I would be letting down Rowan and June.

  “I’m really sorry about the timing, sweetie, but it will be grand. Let’s find time to hang, just us. Bring your FIT portfolio and everything you’ve done this summer.”

  After chatting a few more minutes, we hung up. Nilusha was right. It probably was going to be great.

  I glanced down the street. Bakewell was busy. Tourists, locals, and, of course, flowers everywhere. I’d thought the aesthetic of this town was both way too much and lacking in variety when I first got here. It was so strange how comforting Main Street had become to me now.

  The Lilybuds door opened, and Shar came outside. “Just wanted to see how you—oh, Tahira, have you been crying?”

  I shook my head, wiping a tear. “No, I’m fine.”

  She tilted her head, concerned. “That face doesn’t look fine. Is this about the weekend?”

  I exhaled. “Yeah. I’m stuck. I do need to go to Toronto to do this thing, but if Gia and I leave, Rowan and June will be short a team member.”

  “Why don’t they find someone else?”

  “It’s two days before the Bloom. Who would drop everything to help them like that?”

  “There has to be someone. Rowan and Juniper are so well liked.”

  Wait. Leanne couldn’t do it because she was going to some rabbit thing, but she’d also said she wished she could spend the weekend with Rowan and June. Leanne thought of Rowan as her brother, and she thought of June as her . . . well, I didn’t know what she thought of June, but she did give her flowers on Tuesday. It couldn’t hurt to ask her.

  “Hey, Shar,” I asked, “is there a bus or a car service or something that could get me to the Langston farm today? I need to talk to Leanne. In person. It’s an emergency.”

  Shar chuckled. “Of course not. This is Bakewell. We don’t even have Uber. Why do you need to see Leanne?”

  “I just do.”

  Shar looked at her watch. “The store is pretty slow—how about I drive you? We can ask if June will come in for a few hours to help Gia.”

  “You’d drive me all the way there?”

  “Of course! You’re my favorite niece! Call Leanne, see if she’s home. I’ll call June. I wouldn’t mind saying hello to Joanne Langston, anyway. I need to thank her for those tahini cookies she brought me last week. They were so delicious!”

  Thirty minutes later I was in Leanne’s barn with her. June had agreed to come in to Lilybuds for a few hours to cover for us. Shar was in Leanne’s mom’s kitchen talking recipes or something.

  “I wasn’t surprised you wanted to talk to me,” Leanne said. She was cleaning out one of the rabbit hutches, somehow with the rabbit still in it. “We’re not really the ‘hanging out alone’ kind of friends, but apparently we are the ‘ask to fill in for me at the Bloom so my boyfriend won’t be upset that I’m hanging out with models and my ex-boyfriend’ kind of friends.”

  I cringed. “Rowan told you.”

  She raised a brow. “You do realize he and I are best friends, don’t you? He tells me everything.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I was saying that too much lately. My eyes watered. “Damn rabbits.”

  She blinked at me a few seconds, then motioned me outside. “C’mon, let’s get you away from these biological warfare bunnies.”

  We sat on the boulders outside. It was quite a different view during the day. The brilliant sun made the neighbors’ crops seem to glow yellow.

  “So, was I right?” Leanne asked. “You are here to ask me to take your spot in the Bloom.”

  Leanne had always seen right through me. I couldn’t impress her with my popularity or my followers, or charm her using compliments. I had no choice but to be honest. But I wanted to be.

  I nodded. “You said you wished you could see Rowan and Juniper at the Bloom.”

  “And that’s true. But I can’t say I’m excited to step in for you here—remember, I pulled out so you and your friend Gia could have a team for the competition.”

  “I thought you pulled out because of your rabbit show?”

  Leanne paused a few seconds, then shook her head. “You know, I told Rowan not to get involved with you.”

  “You did?” I’d never gotten the impression that Leanne didn’t approve of me dating her friend.

  “I thought for sure that he’d get hurt. That something new and sparkly would come along and you’d forget all about him.” She sighed. “I didn’t think you were capable of seeing that there is no one more sparkly than Rowan. He’s the best. He deserves someone who’s all in for him. He’s had a really tough year. I think he’s ripe for being taken advantage of right now.”

  “I wasn’t taking advantage of him.”

  “Yeah, well, he obviously didn’t listen to me, did he? He’s completely under your spell. But it’s his life—I didn’t even say ‘I told you so’ when he told me you were leaving him.”

  “I’m leaving the Bloom. Not Rowan.”

  She crossed her arms. “You promised him you wouldn’t flake out on him or make him regret inviting you on the team.”

  I exhaled. “Look, Leanne, you can play the intimidating best friend game with me all day. You’re probably right. I’m terrible for Rowan. He deserves someone who can commit to the things he cares about, and maybe I’ve got too much going on in my own life to do that. But right now all I need is to make sure Rowan and June don’t miss out on the Bloom. I honestly don’t care if you like me or not, but I know you care about Rowan. I know you care about Juniper.”

  Leanne gritted her teeth. She blinked at me for a few seconds. There it was. Leanne totally had feelings for June.

  “Don’t you even bring Junebug into this,” she said, sternly. “First you begged her to be in the competition, and now you’re just abandoning her? You also promised you wouldn’t hurt Juniper. They both deserve better than you.”

  “Exactly. They deserve you.”

  She glared at me again, then sighed, uncrossing her arms. “I have a confession. I’m not going to the rabbit show this weekend.”

  “What? You’re not?”

  She shook her head. “I think Daphne wants to retire. She’s been even flightier than you, lately. So, fine. I’ll take your place in the Bloom. But I have two conditions.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Don’t call Rowan. Or text him or anything else while you’re gone. Let him focus on the Bloom—this is important for him. You two need to take a break.”

  I didn’t like that, but what choice did I have? “Okay. What’s the second condition?”

  “While you’re in the city, you have to go to this book signing downtown on Saturday at three and get a signed copy of Lexi Greer’s newest
Silverborn book for Juniper.”

  I blinked. “Is that where you were really going this weekend?”

  Leanne looked out into the distance again, and nodded. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  I still didn’t know exactly what was going on in Leanne’s head where June was concerned, but one thing was clear. She didn’t want to talk about it—at least not to me. Which, fair. But this was something I could do. I’d be downtown anyway for the profile with Dasha at one.

  “Done,” I said. “Send me the details. I’ll get her the book. And I’ll keep it on the down low, if that’s what you want.”

  She nodded, then shook my hand. “We have a deal, then.”

  After leaving the farm, I texted Matteo that I was coming to the Dasha Payne photo shoot. Then I called Rowan to tell him Leanne had agreed to take my place on the Bloom team. He couldn’t talk long since he was at work. I suggested we meet in the yard when he was done, but he said it was going to rain and he had to work early again. He didn’t mention having breakfast together. He didn’t want to see me.

  I exhaled as I put my phone in my pocket. I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t going to let myself regret this choice, no matter what.

  I woke up even before dawn the next day. I wanted to change up a sweatshirt to wear for the photo shoot so it wouldn’t be a repeat on my feed. After pulling up the original design on my iPad, I played around with cropping the length. I also drew in some epaulets on the shoulders and metal studs on the neckline. Perfect. I had all the supplies to do this. I pulled out my notions box and the white and gray sweatshirt and started working.

  It was so great to be engrossed in a sewing project again, but I made sure to go outside at eight for breakfast with a faint hope that Rowan would be there. He wasn’t, but Juniper was.

  “Row told me to tell you he went to the nursery early,” she said, sitting across from me.

  I sighed. “He’s mad at me. Are you mad at me, too?” I didn’t think I could handle both Johnston kids being upset with me.

  “No. Not even a little bit. I mean, I’m sorry we won’t get to hang out at the festival, but this whole photo shoot and interview sounds fantastic. Of course you need to go.”

  I smiled with relief. “Yeah. I am sorry, though.”

  “It’s fine.” Juniper smiled. “Maybe we can enter the Bloom together next year.”

  That wasn’t likely. I needed a fashion internship next summer, according to the Plan. “You’re way too nice, Juniper. What about Leanne? You okay with her on the team?”

  Juniper nodded. I tried to read her expression, but I couldn’t figure it out. “Totally fine,” she said. “I realized something Tuesday. Leanne’s always been so great to me, and like a stupid kid, I just saw more in that than what there was. I’m over it.”

  I watched her closely. I couldn’t forget that Leanne had planned to drive all the way into the city just to get June a book. “She gave you flowers. I think there’s something more there, June.”

  “No. Absolutely not. She’s leaving in, like, a week. The flower thing is because she knows I love them. She wants to make sure there are no hard feelings between us before she leaves. Anyway,” Juniper said, waving her hand, “I’ve figured out that if you remind yourself over and over that you’re not into someone, you will eventually start to believe it.”

  I blew out a puff of air. I might need that trick when I left Bakewell. Because everything would be much easier without these pesky feelings for Rowan Johnston.

  Juniper’s face was full of concern. “Are you okay, Tahira?”

  I chuckled, looking down. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just annoyed I have to leave the Bloom. I’ll be back, though. I’m not giving up my last week in Bakewell for anything.”

  “We’ll stay in touch after you leave for good, right?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely.” I meant it.

  We were all packed and ready to go by 1:30, and Gia and I were sitting on Shar’s front porch waiting for Matteo. We needed to get on the road as soon as he got here because Gia had made an appointment in Toronto to get her roots done. I was checking my Insta when I heard a car turn onto the street.

  Good. Matteo was early.

  But instead of the blue Mustang, Rowan’s Subaru pulled up. What was he doing home? He didn’t even park in his own driveway, instead stopping in front of Shar’s house, and he got out. He was carrying a bundle of flowers in one hand.

  “Ooh, nice,” Gia said. “Why doesn’t Cameron ever bring me flowers? He works at the nursery, too.”

  I stopped listening to Gia, though. I was watching the most beautiful guy in the world come straight for me with a bouquet of flowers. I met him at the bottom of the stairs.

  “These are for you.” He handed me the flowers. “‘I’m on lunch . . . can we talk for a few minutes?” I couldn’t read his expression.

  I nodded. “Yeah, but my ride will be here soon.”

  He took my hand and pulled me over to an ornate garden bench near the Bloom bunny in the middle of his yard. We sat.

  “I didn’t want you to leave without seeing you,” he said.

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you came.”

  “I should apologize.” He took his hand back and ran it over his head. I could read his expression now. Still sadness.

  I looked at the bouquet, and noticed the sunflowers first. Small ones, brightly colored and contrasting against the blue and purple of the other flowers in the bundle. Heather and hydrangea. I knew exactly why he picked these flowers. The sunflowers were for our first kiss. The hydrangeas for the day we met, and the day we painted that mural together at Lilybuds. And the heather? The heather was because he was a designer down to the bone—big blooms like hydrangeas and sunflowers needed something tall and slender for balance.

  I understood him. He understood me.

  “Last night my mom really laid into me. She said I was being selfish,” he said. “She said I needed to let you shine. It’s a big deal, this photo shoot; I get that. I’m sorry I didn’t support you.”

  “That sounds more like your mother’s words than your own.”

  He squeezed his lips together. “I do mean them, though. I told you I can be tunnel minded, and maybe I needed her kick in the ass to see your perspective. This is your dream. Your life is out there, not hanging out in gardens and greenhouses with me.”

  I blinked. There was a lot of finality in his voice. “I’m only leaving for two days,” I said. “When I come back on Sunday, we’ll still have a whole week left in Bakewell to hang out in the garden.” I wanted that. I wanted to lie on the grass and stare at the stars. I wanted to go hang out in flower fields and maybe finally try the marshmallow ice cream on Main Street. I wanted to talk for hours about art and design and flowers and beauty. I wasn’t ready for all this to end.

  Rowan smiled small. “I know.” He pointed over to Shar’s driveway. “Your ride is waiting.” Sure enough, the blue Mustang was there.

  I couldn’t see Matteo from here, but I did see Gia’s impatient face in the passenger-side window. “Thanks for these,” I said, indicating the flowers. “And for, you know, coming to see me.”

  Eyes serious, he reached out and put his hand on my cheek. The calluses there, they gave me shivers like they always did. His hand was warm in the late-summer sun.

  He leaned forward and kissed me gently. So soft. So right. I wanted more.

  But of course I had to leave. I squeezed his hand. “I’ll be back on Sunday,” I said.

  “Goodbye, Tahira. Go be amazing.”

  I was almost okay when I reached Matteo’s car. Rowan wasn’t angry with me. He was supportive. Maybe everything would be fine between us. I said nothing to Matteo as I got in the car, hoping he’d do the same.

  Annoyingly, he didn’t. “So, you are seeing that guy from your Insta?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long has that been going on?” There was plenty of challenge in his voice. Asshole. He was the one who cheated, not me.


  I don’t know how I expected to feel the first time seeing my ex after our breakup, but I didn’t expect what I was feeling now. Nothing. No hatred, no anger, no disappointment. A touch of annoyance, but that was it. He didn’t even look that hot to me. I mean, yeah, he was good looking in a generic kind of way. Mediocre—compared to Rowan, at least.

  Hallelujah. If nothing else, how great was it that I was already completely over this douche?

  He snorted. “Giving you flowers. What is this, the nineteen fifties?”

  I held Rowan’s bouquet close.

  “He works with flowers,” Gia said. “In fact, he and his sister do the sweetest thing—they pick flowers based on their meanings. What do those flowers mean, T?”

  It didn’t matter, but Rowan had picked these particular flowers for sentimental reasons, not for the meaning behind them.

  But then suddenly, I wondered, and I quickly pulled out my phone and searched up the meanings of the three flowers.

  “They probably have the most romantic meanings,” Gia said. She was laying it on a little thick for me, probably because she could see how annoyed Matteo was. “He’s telling her how much he cares, and how he can’t wait for her to be back so they can be together again.”

  Matteo scoffed.

  I looked at the flowers. And no, that’s not what these meant. There were literally a ton of flowers that stood for love. Red roses. Or tulips, for that matter.

  But these ones? Rowan had chosen these flowers because they promised friendship. Respect.

  This wasn’t a bouquet of love or passion. And in retrospect? That kiss hadn’t been, either.

  It was over. Rowan was telling me it was over.

  I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.

  24

  AWKWARD DRIVES ARE AWKWARD

  I didn’t say much on the drive to Toronto. Matteo and Gia caught each other up on family gossip, but I played mindless games on my phone or watched the farms pass by out the window. I wasn’t regretting this trip—I still totally understood how important it was for me—but that didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to be miserable about all I’d lost. I was certain I’d never feel as comfortable and content as I did staring at the stars with Rowan.