That night, he went on the hunt. He would have flowers in his shop tomorrow morning come hell or high water. It had been over a week now and he knew he could put off the opening no longer. At two in the morning, he rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of dark jeans and one of the long-sleeved black shirts he used to wear when breaking into houses, and set out to find some flowers. At the end of his block, he turned around, went straight back home, and rummaged around in his kitchen drawers for a minute before finding what he was looking for. He’d forgotten scissors.
As he canvassed the streets of the small town, he kept his eyes peeled for likely buds. But all the flowers he saw were in people’s gardens, behind fences and hedges. While he could easily have hopped over and stolen some blooms without anyone noticing, he soon realized that he felt bad about stealing people’s flowers only to sell them back to them. So he always kept walking, no matter how nice the flowers were.
At last, he came to a small church near the center of town. “Finally,” he whispered, catching sight of the two large shrubs on either side of the entrance – they were covered in large, bushy white flowers. Without hesitating, Travis snipped off several of the large flowers. They were awkward to carry because they were so big, but he managed. Then he went on.
By the time he came home a few hours later, Travis was feeling pretty proud of himself. He had the white flowers – though in the light of the florist shop he could see that they were actually a pale blue – some ferns that had been growing out of a crack in the concrete next to a bus stop, some weird leafy vine that he’d pulled off a lamp post, and some of the papery reeds that grew in the sand dunes by the beach. He’d been tempted to take home some seaweed too, but then thought that might be pushing his luck. Then, on his way home, he hit what he saw as the floral jackpot of Chilloot Bay: an empty lot with a clump of large, waist-high daisies. He took them all.
Filling the buckets he’d found in the back room with water, he arranged the flowers, vines, and reeds into as many bouquets as he could. When he ran out of the flowers, he arranged the remaining greenery until he thought it looked semi-decent. He tied everything with some twine he’d found in a drawer. Twine was back in fashion, he told himself. It was rustic-chic. Or something like that. Besides, what did the people in this backwater town know about flower arranging trends anyway? He could always just say that this was what was popular in New York these days.
Feeling very pleased with his night’s work, Travis went up to bed. Setting his alarm for 8:00 am, he fell asleep feeling satisfied and secure for the first time since he’d left his apartment in Chicago.
The next morning, his shop was full. While he only had a dozen or so bouquets for sale, people came just to see his wares and talk to their neighbors – as if they didn’t get enough of that already. Travis felt oddly proud of himself when he made his first sale – to Miranda, of course.
“It’s for my niece, you see. It’ll go very well with her new redecorating. She’s gone very modern as well, you know. This’ll fit right in,” Miranda beamed at him, placing one of his bouquets on the counter. Now that he’d had some sleep, he could see that the bouquet looked pretty bedraggled. But, if the townspeople were happy, that was all that mattered.
“Do you have change?” Miranda asked, bringing out two twenty dollar bills.
“Oh,” said Travis, suddenly realizing he had absolutely nothing in the till. “Fuc—dge,” he caught himself just in time. “Fudge. In the, uh, excitement, I forgot to go to the bank.” He drew out his own wallet and, luckily, found the necessary change.
Miranda laughed. “Do you want me to run to the bank for you, sweetheart?”
“Would you mind?” Travis asked, feeling like a complete idiot.
“Not at all—oh, Ted! What a nice choice!” As Miranda took back her two twenties, a middle-aged man holding a bouquet with one of the bushy blue church flowers came up to the cash.
“Thanks, Miranda,” said Ted, looking down at the bouquet. “Julia just loves hydrangeas,” he told her. “This will go perfectly in the living room. Julia’s my wife,” he told Travis. “She’s got MS, so she doesn’t get out very often. I try to bring the outside world in to her as much as I can.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Travis. “I hope she likes the flowers.” He looked down at the bouquet that Ted was holding and wondered which plant in it was the hydrangea.
“I’m just running out to get the poor lamb some change,” Miranda explained to Ted. “He was so excited to finally open that he forgot all about it, don’t you know. So if you just wait a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”
“No need to rush on my account, Miranda,” Ted smiled. “I’m in no hurry. Karen’s visiting with Julia so she’s well looked after.”
Miranda shook her head with a smile. “What a gem our Karen is,” she said and turned to Travis. “Have you met Karen? You two pretty young things would get along like a house one fire. I’ll have to make sure she drops by.”
“We’ve met,” said Travis, feeling another blush rising. “She seems very nice.”
“Yes, isn’t she just,” Miranda gave him a knowing smile and waved the twenties in one hand. “I’ll be right back!” she said.
“Sad story, though,” said Ted, leaning against the counter, clearly getting ready for a good long chat. Travis resigned himself to more town gossip. “Her mother’s family moved here from Japan in the 50s. They were from Hiroshima, you know. All three of them died of cancer before they were fifty, even Karen’s mother, and she hadn’t even been born yet when the bombs dropped. Karen herself was only barely 18 when her mother, Michiko, died. And her father had left them when she was just a kid – God, did Michiko work hard to keep the two of them afloat. Anyway, there was Karen, 18 years old, just graduated from high school and not even a grandparent. Anyway, she’d always been a bright kid and she used to tutor the other students – sometimes even the ones in the grade above her. So the teachers at the high school decided to take her on as an assistant. You know, help them to grade homework or take over if someone was sick. After a few years of saving her wages, she went off to the teacher’s college in Portland to get her degree so that she could become a proper teacher. We threw her a big ole party when she left to raise some more funds. Everyone was so proud of her, of course. And we were all thrilled when she decided to come back here once she’d got her degree. Coulda gone anywhere, our Karen. Nothing gets past her. Plus she’s a marvel with the kids. They love her to bits, they do.”
Travis nodded along. He was beginning to understand why she’d been so protective of the town. “She’s lucky to have such a good home,” he said. “We always moved around a lot when I was a kid. Dad was in the military, you know how it is. I never stayed in one place long enough for it to be home.” He was surprised at himself. He’d never told anyone that before. But the people in this town had an openness about them that made him want to tell them everything.
Ted nodded. “My dad was in the Navy. Never thought I’d settle down anywhere until I met my Julia. And then I knew I’d never move again. One day you’ll find someone like that,” he told Travis with a smile. “Someone that makes you stop dead in your tracks – ah! Back already, Miranda?” Ted straightened as the elderly lady came trotting back into the store, making her way through the chatting crowd.
Slapping a wad of small bills down on the linoleum countertop, she grinned at Travis. “You’re all set,” she told him.
“When those dahlias finally come in, your first bouquet is on the house,” said Travis, mentally reminding himself that he still needed to look up just what a dahlia was.
“Oh, I can’t wait!” said Miranda, adjusting her sunhat.
That afternoon, Travis was sitting on a three-legged stool behind his counter, admiring his empty shop. All of his bouquets were gone and the crowd of people had finally left. He was alone for the first time since he’d opened and it was glorious. His ears were still buzzing with the sound of the endless chatter that had fill
ed the store until twenty minutes ago.
He couldn’t believe that people had bought his story about the current New York flower trends and how minimalist bouquets were really in style right now. They’d all nodded enthusiastically and complimented him on his “modern” aesthetic. They were so supportive and effusive, in fact, that Travis was starting to feel bad about lying to them.
Because his family had moved around so much, Travis had never had any friends growing up. It was a trend that had continued into his adult life – it was hard to maintain friendships when you couldn’t talk about your job and were constantly leaving the country for moths at a time. And let’s not even get started on a romantic relationship. Travis’s record was a week he’d spent in Tahiti with a French journalist while posing as a diplomat. Needless to say, having this many people constantly in his life and taking an interest in him was a new experience. He was discovering that knowing people was actually pretty difficult, especially if you cared what they thought of you. And Travis, much to his surprise, was starting to care. How could you not care about a sweet old lady who brought you homemade treats every other day?
Travis’ thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. It was Karen.
“I see I missed the boat on a bouquet,” she said, looking around the empty shop with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, I’ve been sold out for an hour or so,” Travis told her, eyeing her surreptitiously. She was still as drop-dead gorgeous as she had been last time.
“Yes, I’ve been hearing about your work all day,” Karen told him, her eyes locking with his. “I was even lucky enough to catch a glimpse of one of your…masterpieces…at Ted and Julia’s this afternoon. It was certainly very…original. The hydrangeas were a nice touch. You know, there’s a church nearby that has just that shade of hydrangea. What a coincidence that you should have found a matching one.”
At least that cleared up the hydrangea mystery, thought Travis, his stomach sinking. Karen was clearly not as easily won over as the rest of the town. “Is there really?” he asked. “I had no idea. I still haven’t had much time to do a tour of the local sights.”
“Mm,” said Karen, her disbelief clear. “And there’s an empty lot that used to be full of Shasta daisies that have all suddenly disappeared. It’s right by my apartment and I went out to pick a few for my kitchen and, wouldn’t you know it, they’d all been cut.”
“An empty lot, you say?” said Travis, his face perfectly blank. “Maybe the municipality went in to do some maintenance work?” he offered.
“That’s what I thought,” Karen agreed. “Except it’s a bit strange that they didn’t mow the grass while they were at it.”
“That is weird,” Travis nodded.
The two looked at each other, both sizing the other up. Finally, Karen smiled. “What are you doing right now?” she asked.
“Uh…now?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Well, why don’t you come out with me? I’ll take you on that tour of the town that you haven’t had time for yet. Show you all the good sights.”
Travis was surprised, to say the least. “Um, okay,” he said. “That would be really nice.”
“Well, it certainly beats marking English essays,” Karen told him with another mocking smile.
“Ouch,” said Travis. “That’s not saying much.”
She laughed, her dark blue eyes catching the light. “Well, at least spending the afternoon with you isn’t worse than grading English homework,” she pointed out.
“God, I hope not. Though who knows, by the time this is over, you may have changed your mind and be dying to get back to those essays.”
Karen shook her head. “It’s a good thing the people here are desperate for flower arrangements, Travis, because you’re a terrible salesman.”
Travis laughed. “Touché,” he replied as he joined her by the door.
She smiled up at him and Travis felt an answering twinge in his jeans. He cleared his throat. “Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.
“Oh no,” she said, pushing his arm away with another mocking smile. “People will talk if they see us arm in arm. I have a reputation to uphold, don’t you know.” But she couldn’t quite keep a straight face as she said it and she snickered a little as she led them outside.
“My mistake,” said Travis, his eye caught by the way the hem of her light summer dress fluttered in the breeze and revealed the pale skin of her upper thighs.
“First stop: ice cream,” Karen said, pointing in the direction of the beach.
“God, between you and Miranda, I’m going to have to be rolled out of that shop in a few months,” Travis joked.
***
Travis hadn’t had so much fun in a very long time. Karen was a smart and observant conversation partner and an excellent tour guide. As they walked, licking enormous ice cream cones, she told him all kinds of things about the town, from the local ghost stories to the latest gossip. Every few blocks she had a favorite house or a favorite tree or view to point out to him and Travis soon found himself as in love with the picturesque little town as she seemed to be.
He was so caught up in their conversation that he didn’t realize where they were until Karen came to a stop. They were standing in front of the church where, last night, Travis had made off with a fistful of hydrangeas.
“Wow,” he said, managing to keep his face straight, “those really are exactly the same color, aren’t they?”
Karen looked up at him silently and Travis knew immediately that he had disappointed her. “Why did you take all those flowers?” she asked.
Travis looked down at her, unsure whether to lie by denying it or to lie by telling her another excuse. Either way, he didn’t like his options. “Why do you think I took them?” he asked finally. At least it wasn’t a lie.
Karen shook her head. “I should probably be getting back to that grading,” she told him, her voice low. “Can you find your own way back?”
Travis felt all the happiness of the day drain out of him. “Of course,” he said. “This was really great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied. “See you around, Travis.”
He nodded as she turned and walked away. As he watched her go, Travis felt like the shittiest person on earth. He’d never had a problem spinning all kinds of fabulous tales while he was on the job. But, somehow, Karen and these townspeople were different.
When he got back to the shop, the first thing he did was look up nearby florist suppliers. He set up an account and put in an order for as many different kinds of flowers as he thought he could fit in the shop. He made a point of ordering several different kinds of dahlias and, on a whim, chose some pretty looking chrysanthemums. They seemed like the kind of showy flower Miranda would like.
As soon as the flowers were ordered, he started scouring the internet for books and tutorials. By the time he was done, it was pitch black outside and he’d spent a sizeable chunk of the money Bruce had given him. At least, if today was anything to go by, he was sure to make his investment back. Stretching his back, he waited for the printer to finish printing out a copy of a blessedly short book called Cut Flowers for Beginners that he’d found online. He’d read it in bed tonight, he decided. Maybe with a nice cup of tea. Travis rolled his eyes. Look what he’d become.
Chapter 3
The next morning Travis was greeted by a delivery van full of flowers. As the driver and her helper unloaded the buckets into his shop, Travis wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. His shop looked like a greenhouse had exploded inside it. How was he ever going to sort out this mess?
But the weeks went by and Travis soon found himself enjoying his supposed job. At first learning about flowers and floral arrangements had been just a silly distraction from worrying about Bruce and the rest of the organization, but, before long, it had become central to his life. He got so good at flower arranging that he even agreed to do a workshop at the local co
mmunity center – though it took the combined forces of Miranda and Karen to convince him. While Miranda might be nearsighted, she had no trouble seeing how Travis looked at their pretty young neighbor and even less trouble exploiting his feelings.
However, despite Travis’s good intentions and hard work, Karen still kept her distance. She was friendly but, while it was obvious the attraction was mutual, she ignored Travis’s more forward overtures and made it clear that, however much she may like him, she still didn’t trust him. Travis, who had also had an unstable childhood, could understand why it took her so long to open up to people (especially people who were obviously keeping something back), but that didn’t stop him from wishing she would come out for a drink with him. Every time he looked at her he felt the desire to explain himself come bubbling to the surface – it was getting harder and harder to keep his secret.
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