“Even better,” he said. “Maybe we’ll be back for Homecoming next year!”
“That would be great,” I said. And surprisingly enough, I meant it.
We all waved as Debbie backed out of the driveway and they took off down the street. Mom dabbed her eyes with an orange bandanna with one hand and waved wildly with the other.
After they were gone, we headed inside in silence. The butterflies in my stomach were out of control. It was time for our family meeting.
The plan was to hear all the evidence and then everyone would vote on what they thought we should do. I knew that Dad and Great-aunt Lily had found an acceptable new location in a strip mall, with plenty of parking. And that when Dad had mentioned the amount that Boston Beans had offered us, the realtor told him we’d be insane not to jump at the offer. It was tradition versus cold, hard reality. I wasn’t feeling very positive about how things were going to turn out.
We all filed inside and sat stiffly in the living room as we waited for Aunt Lily to arrive. Mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it. The room felt heavy with tension. “Put that away,” Mom barked at Dad as he took out his phone. “Please,” she added, putting her hand gently on his arm.
“Why is everyone so cranky?” Poppy wanted to know.
“We’re trying to make a big decision,” Rose told her.
Poppy shrugged. “Oh. That’s a little too boring for me,” she said.
Finally, the doorbell rang. Dad got up and ushered Aunt Lily inside. She was dressed even more formally than usual, wearing a black wool coat with a mink collar.
“Hello, everyone,” she said stiffly.
“Hello, Aunt Lily,” we chorused halfheartedly.
Dad helped Aunt Lily remove her coat. She nodded to us all briskly. With a sigh, Mom stood and we all trudged into Dad’s office to place our call to Gran and Gramps.
Dad dialed them up and before we knew it, their faces filled the screen. I was happy to see them, but I missed them so much it hurt. Mom filled Gran and Gramps in on how well Homecoming had gone.
“We may have lost the traditional Homecoming business this year, but we more than made up for it with new business,” she explained. “We ended up making an amazing dress entirely out of roses.”
“What?” said Gran. “Entirely out of roses? It must have been spectacular! You made it, Daisy?”
“She did!” I said proudly. “I sent you some pictures. Check your e-mail!”
“I can’t wait to see it!” said Gramps. “Now that’s thinking!”
“That’s not all,” Dad said. “We also single-handedly started a Homecoming corsage craze. We made hundreds and we sold every one.”
“Sounds like you guys were handed lemons and you made yourselves some lemonade!” said Gramps.
“And some lemon meringue pie, too!” Gran exclaimed.
“Well, there was one disappointing thing,” I told them. “The McIlhenny Moose got clobbered as usual.”
“Nothing like consistency,” said Gramps. His face grew serious. “And now for the hard part. How are you doing with the decision to sell?”
We all looked at each other uneasily. Dad spoke up first. “We found a location that could really do the trick,” he said. “It’s big, brand-new, has plenty of parking, and is next door to the most popular pharmacy in town. We could buy it with the money that Boston Beans is offering and still have enough money to do a complete remodel on the shop, including a state-of-the-art flower cooler. We could even hire another designer. Even with all that …”
“Enough!” said Aunt Lily. We all turned to look at her, our mouths open. She sounded mad. I braced myself for what she was about to say.
“I … I … I … can’t do this,” she finally said. “I know we could use the money, and Ben, you’ve put so much work into this, but it just isn’t right. Petal Pushers belongs on Fairfield Street.”
There was a moment of dead silence.
I stood up, unable to contain myself. “Yay!” I shouted, jumping up and down.
Rose and Aster high-fived each other. It was obvious that Poppy was not exactly sure about what had transpired, but she started jumping up and down, too. Mom wiped her eyes with her bandanna. I stole a glance at my great-aunt, who was rooting around in her pocketbook. Was mean old Aunt Lily crying, too? I handed her a tissue from the box on the desk.
“Thank you, Delphinium,” she said, not making eye contact with me.
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Gramps.
“Thank you, Lily,” Gran said softly.
“I just couldn’t let us sell it,” Aunt Lily said, staring down at the floor. “Too many memories. Remember the fun we would have playing on the floor at Mom and Dad’s feet, making bouquets out of the discarded flowers while they worked?”
Gran laughed. “The parties we used to throw for our dolls! Weddings, birthdays, tea parties …”
“I’ll never forget the funeral we had for that dead praying mantis we found,” Aunt Lily reminded her.
“You made the most beautiful casket spray,” Gran reminisced. “Dad was so impressed!”
Aunt Lily laughed. “He was, wasn’t he?”
Gran was nodding and dabbing tears from her eyes at the same time. “Lily, did you know that if you look closely at the doorway to the office, you can see the pencil marks from when Mom would measure us?”
“Really?” said Aunt Lily. “I’ll have to look next time I’m in the store.”
“‘All’s well that ends well; still the fine’s the crown; What’er the course, the end is the renown,’” said Dad. “That’s …”
“Shakespeare,” we all finished for him. “That’s right!” he said. “You guys have been paying attention!”
Aunt Lily cleared her throat. “There’s just one thing,” she said.
We all looked at her warily. What could it be? “I’d like to be a little more involved in the store,” she told us. “I used to be quite the flower arranger back in the day!”
I stole a glance at Mom. She put on a big (and I’m certain, quite fake) smile. “Of course, Aunt Lily,” she said. “That would be lovely.”
“Ben, will you do the honors?” Gramps asked. Dad looked confused.
“Telling Boston Beans to buzz off, of course!” Gramps said.
“With pleasure!” Dad cried.
Gran and Gramps signed off, promising they would be here for Thanksgiving. Then Mom ran into the kitchen and came back with a tray holding a bottle of sparkling cider and some champagne flutes. She popped it open and we had a toast.
“To Petal Pushers!” she said.
“To Petal Pushers!” we echoed. We all clinked glasses.
Then we all hugged and kissed. (Great-aunt Lily looked shocked to get caught up in one of Dad’s bear hugs.) When I had drained my glass, I yawned and stretched. It had been an exciting, action-packed weekend. I was really glad things were back to normal….
“Oh no!” Dad yelled in horror. “What have I done?”
I spun around. What was wrong now?
My father was staring at his phone. “My garbanzo beans withered,” he said. “Now I’m never going to have enough snozzleberries to buy that tractor!”
Okay, so not entirely back to normal. But I grinned anyway. Things not being entirely normal was normal for my wacky family.
And I was glad for that.
Read all the Petal Pushers books!
Too Many Blooms
Flower Feud
Best Buds
Coming Up Roses
Copyright
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Copyright © 2011 by Catherine R. Daly
Cover illustration © 2011 by Bella Pilar
Cove
r design by Yaffa Jaskoll
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First edition, September 2011
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eISBN 978-0-545-38821-4
Coming Up Roses Page 10