“The church is going to look like a garden,” Bobbi said that morning as they finished the last of the orders.
“Millie will like that.” Hope slipped orange gladiolus in behind a grouping of gerberas and roses. She could feel the tears coming. In another moment, she was going to be watering these flowers.
Bobbi slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. It probably feels like losing Grandma all over again.”
“I hate losing cool people from my life,” Hope grumbled.
“At least two of the coolest people we know are still here.”
Hope knew exactly where she was going and couldn’t help smiling. “Us?”
“Yep.” Bobbi turned serious. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Me, too,” said Hope. “Now, let’s get these arrangements finished and over to the church.”
Bobbi drove the little PT Cruiser very carefully—hey, she could be taught—to the church. All the way, she kept thinking about her sister. Hope so deserved to be happy. Why did she insist on working so hard to make other people’s lives good, and then let her own go untended? All the way back from delivering the flowers, Bobbi chewed on how she could manage to get Hope a life. There was only one way to do it, really. Someone had to tell Jason what Hope’s problem was.
“Oh, boy,” Bobbi muttered. Someone—not Hope, who’d be too mad—would be doing flowers for Bobbi’s funeral if Hope found out about this. Bobbi parked the little PT Cruiser in back of the shop and sneaked the few feet to where Jason and his crew were working.
Except Jason wasn’t there. “Where is he?” she asked Duke. She had to find him fast, before Hope found out.
“He’s over at the Smith job on the lake,” said Duke. He frowned. “Whaddya need to see him for?”
“I have to tell him something important about Hope.”
“Yeah? What?”
“Never mind. Just give me the address.”
Duke was still frowning, but he rattled off an address.
She kissed him on the cheek and scampered back to the Cruiser. Hopefully, with all the banging and sawing, Hope had never heard her pull up. It would be hard to explain why she left with an empty delivery car.
She found Jason at the site, talking with a man who was holding a blueprint. When Jason saw Bobbi, he detached himself and walked over mounds of dirt and stacks of wood bits to where she stood. He didn’t look all that excited to see her, but he asked politely, “Did you need something?”
“Not me,” she said, “but my sister does.”
That got him curious. “Oh?”
“She needs you.”
Jason rolled his eyes and started to turn away.
Bobbi caught his arm. “Seriously. You have to know why she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
Now she had his full attention. “I’m listening.”
“She had cancer.”
His features took on an oh-no look. “The book on cancer. It was hers. I should have figured that out. God,” he added softly. “What kind?”
“Breast. She lost one.”
He stood there staring at Bobbi like he didn’t understand what she’d just said.
“Did you get that?” she asked, giving his arm a shake.
“Yeah. Yeah, I got it. Is she okay?”
“She’s as okay as a woman can be who’s had two surgeries: one to get a fake boob, the other to make it look good. It still doesn’t as far as she’s concerned and she’s got scarring. It’s why she doesn’t want things to go any further with you, even though she’s in love with you.”
Jason clawed his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“You think she would have let me? You think she even knows I’m here now? Look, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I think you and my sister belong together. And you’d be lucky to get her,” Bobbi added, in case he hadn’t figured that out. “So, now you know. Don’t tell her I told you. I want to live to see thirty.”
“What am I supposed to tell her?” Jason held out his hands, the picture of male helplessness. Really, women had to do all their thinking for them.
“Tell her you put two and two together. Do something romantic with flowers. That’ll help. Oh, and first hypnotize her and convince her she’s pretty.” With that, she left Jason to figure out where to go from there. She’d done all she could. It was up to him now.
THE SANCTUARY WASN’T packed, but it was respectably filled, probably with church members who wanted to rally around their newest member, Hope decided. Next to her, Amber was sniffing into a big ball of tissue. “I hope you’re going to share,” Hope whispered, and Amber peeled off a couple of sheets and passed them over.
Debra and her children and two men who were probably Millie’s sons sat up front in a separate pew, leaving Altheus to grieve alone. “That woman will be lucky if anyone comes to her funeral,” Amber hissed.
Hope had seen enough of Debra at the hospital to convince her that, after Millie gave birth, the baby must have gotten switched.
“They’ll probably throw rocks at her from the other side of the pearly gates,” Amber continued.
“All but Millie,” Hope whispered back. “She’ll be there with a plate of lavender cookies.”
That made Amber burst into noisy sobs and set Hope’s tears to flowing, too.
The minister commanded everyone to rise and sing Millie’s favorite hymn, “Amazing Grace.” How appropriate, thought Hope. She was all about extending grace.
The minister summed up Millie’s life in ten minutes, finishing with, “And everyone here came to love her. We’re all a little better for having known Millie.”
Hope closed her eyes and saw Millie standing in her garden, wearing her purple outfit and her flowered garden gloves, waving. “Don’t forget,” she called. “Go and find someone to love.” Hope’s eyes popped open.
Now one of her sons came up to the podium. He ran a finger along his shirt collar and cleared his throat. “Reading from the book of Relevation.”
Someone snickered.
He cleared his throat again. “That would be Revelation. ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on. They will rest from their labor, for their deeds will follow them.’ Rest in peace, Mom. You’ve done a lot of good. You deserve it.”
That’s for sure, thought Hope, as Amber blew her nose.
“At this time, the family would love it if some of you would share how much Millie meant to you,” said the pastor.
Amber didn’t hesitate to stand. “We just moved here this spring and I didn’t know anyone. Millie adopted me. She was like a grandmother. She shared recipes and taught me how to garden. She was awesome,” Amber finished on a sob and sat back down.
Another person stood up, an older woman. “I still remember Millie bringing me chicken soup when I was sick.”
“She came to my baby shower and brought me flowers from her garden,” said a woman. “My baby had colic. She showed me how to carry him so he’d feel better. I wish I’d had a chance to know her better.”
On and on the testimonials went. Hope had just worked up her courage to stand and say something when the pastor cut them off. “Let’s close with Millie’s other favorite song, ‘Nearer, My God, to Thee.’ ”
“I should have said something,” she told Amber as they stood.
“You did,” Amber said, and pointed to the huge arrangement of flowers from Hope sitting by Millie’s picture.
The churchwomen had put together a salad buffet, and so everyone trooped to the fellowship hall to sit on cold metal chairs and balance paper plates on their laps. Debra had positioned her brothers and herself near the doorway to accept condolences. Her children stood beside her, dressed in black. Both had red-rimmed eyes and looked like they wanted to be somewhere else. Poor Altheus hovered over by a table on the far side of the room, keeping the punch bowl company.
“I’m going to go give him a hug,” said Amber. “You deal with the poop p
rincess. You’ll be nicer.”
Hope started out nice. “Your mom was an amazing woman,” she said to Debra.
Debra was a wreck. Her eyes were so red, she looked like a vampire. Her eyeliner had run, leaving ugly brown trails down her cheeks. She nodded and yanked back a sob.
“We’re all going to miss her,” Hope continued.
“I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Debra said, her words coming out jerkily. “I feel so alone,” she added, looking off at nothing.
This woman couldn’t seem to sing more than one note: me, me, me. “Well, you don’t have to be,” Hope said with enough sharpness to make Debra blink in surprise. She took Debra by the arms and turned her so she could see Altheus on the far side of the room. “He loved her, too, and he’s all alone. Just like you.”
Debra’s eyes widened, then narrowed, changing her from the mourning daughter to Dragon Lady. Now she was going to breathe fire and fry Hope to a crisp.
Let her try. Hope wasn’t done. “Maybe if you start working at it now, you can be like her someday and make her proud. You could start by being nice to the man she loved.”
Debra was staring at her in shock. Hope was a little shocked herself. Had all that just come out of her mouth? “Uh, sorry for your loss,” she said, and made a hasty retreat to the safety of the punch bowl.
“What did you just say to Debra?” asked Amber as Hope hugged Altheus. “She looked like she was about to go into conniptions.”
“I was just offering my condolences,” said Hope. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
On the way home, they stopped by the community garden and had their own little ceremony, just the two of them. They picked some of Millie’s pansies and sprinkled the petals over both their gardens, and they each cut a flower to take home and press and dry.
“We love you, Millie,” Amber murmured. “We always will.”
“Look,” said Hope, pointing to the zinnias. There sat a swallowtail butterfly, gently fanning its wings. It left the flowers and swooped past them, then off and away.
“Good-bye, Millie,” Hope whispered. “See you in heaven.”
Back at their cars, Amber asked, “How about coming with me to the parade on the Fourth? I promised Seth we’d go and Ty has to man the Family Inn booth. I’d sure like the company.”
Hope didn’t feel like being by herself, either, but she wasn’t exactly pumped about milling around at a big, noisy community event. WWMD? (What would Millie do?) She’d go, of course. “Okay.”
Amber hugged her. “Thanks. We can do the craft booths before and even have a cotton candy in honor of Millie.”
Hope got back to the apartment to find a flower on her doorstep. The little primrose wasn’t from her shop—too plainly packaged to have come from Changing Seasons. She picked it up and the envelope that had been lying under it. What on earth?
Inside the apartment, she found a note on the table from Bobbi. Out with Duke. See you later. There was a surprise. Maybe that would just work out. And maybe there was nothing wrong with an August wedding. Like Millie said, life was short.
And speaking of notes. She opened the mystery envelope that had come with her flower and pulled out a small sheet of paper. The writing was blocky and careless, definitely male. She read, “It’s from the competition, but it said what needs to be said. Since you know what flowers mean, you should get the message.” It was signed with the letter J. Jason.
Primroses said, “I can’t live without you.”
So he thought. Still, she’d take this offering and treasure it, especially the note. She set the little pot on her kitchen windowsill to remind her that, even in desert times, a girl could always find flowers.
THE NEXT DAY at the shop was quiet, with only a couple of arrangements to make for Fourth of July parties. “Let’s close up early,” Bobbi suggested. “We can get drinks at Organix and go to the city park and sit on the dock.”
Hope wasn’t in much of a mood to work anyway. “Good idea.”
They were just getting ready to leave when the phone rang. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” grumbled Bobbi as Hope snagged it.
The female voice on the other end was subdued. “I’d like to order some flowers. Could you possibly send them today?”
“If it’s local,” Hope said, and slipped her purse off her shoulder.
“It is. I need something special and I hear you do flowers that have special messages.”
“I can,” said Hope. “What would you like to say?”
The woman’s voice caught on a sob. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Take your time.”
“No, that’s what I want to say.”
“Well, purple hyacinths say ‘I’m sorry,’ but they’re not in season right now. All I have at the moment are silk ones.’ ”
“Oh.” The woman didn’t sound excited by artificial flowers. “I need it to be special. I haven’t been very nice to someone,” she added, her voice quavering.
“Maybe you want something that signifies a new start,” Hope suggested. “Pink roses can stand for friendship.”
“Do you have real ones?” the woman asked, her voice picking up.
“I do.”
“That will work.”
“Okay. What would you like the card to say?”
“Um.”
“Maybe something like, ‘Let’s start again’?”
“Please.”
“Okay.”
“No, I mean add Please.”
“No problem,” said Hope.
“And you’ll tell him what the flowers mean?”
“Of course. Who is this going to?”
“Altheus Hornby.”
Altheus? “How would you like to sign it?”
“Just, I don’t know. Sign it Debra.”
Hope nearly dropped the phone. Amber would never believe this. Millie had to be up in heaven, doing the happy dance. “Would you like to add Your daughter-in-law?” she asked.
“Oh. How did you know? Have we met?”
Maybe they didn’t want to go there. “Briefly, at the funeral. Your mother was a friend of mine. She was quite a woman.”
“Yes, she was. I miss her so much.”
“She’d be glad to know you’re letting new people into your life,” Hope said. “I’ll get those roses out right away.”
She took Debra’s charge-card information, then hung up.
Bobbi had been leaning on the counter, listening. “So, Millie’s daughter is sending flowers to the guy she was mad at?”
“That about sums it up,” Hope said with a smile. “I guess she can be taught. Life is short. What’s the sense in wasting it?”
“Yeah. What’s the sense?” Bobbi echoed, giving her a meaningful stare.
A picture of the primrose on the windowsill danced into her mind and echoed, “Yeah. What’s the sense?”
THIRTY-FOUR
THE FOURTH OF July was a scorcher, but that didn’t stop Heart Lake residents from celebrating. Downtown Lake Way was packed with throngs of people. Hope and Amber jostled the crowd, looking for the perfect curbside seat to view the parade. Hope was ready to sit. They’d spent the last hour walking around the booths in sizzling heat.
“Millie would have loved this,” said Amber.
“Yes, she would,” Hope said, not because she agreed that Millie would have loved this human zoo and the heat, but because it made them both feel better to talk about their friend. This is hot enough to fry my buns, she thought as she settled on the hot sidewalk and let her legs stretch out onto the street. She found herself wishing she’d gotten another drink before they moved to the parade route.
“Water?” asked a male voice.
She knew that voice. She turned to see Jason squatting behind her. He was wearing flip-flops, shorts, and a red Hawaiian print shirt, which hung open over his bare chest. His well-muscled, tanned, bare chest. She grabbed the bottled water he held out. It was even hotter out here than she’d realized.
“Hi.” A
mber was all calculating stares. “Haven’t I seen you at the bakery?”
Of course, she had, and she’d called Hope that very afternoon wanting the scoop on him. Hope had assured Amber he was just a friend, and then changed the subject quickly enough for Amber to get the message. But the way Amber was looking from Hope to Jason as Hope introduced them, it was clear she was getting a whole new message now.
“We’re gonna see a parade,” Seth informed him.
“Cool. Can I sit with you?” Jason asked him.
“Sure,” said Seth, but before he could move to make space for Jason next to him, Amber scooted them both over, making room between her and Hope. Amber and Bobbi had to be twins separated at birth.
Jason plopped down on the curb, his leg grazing Hope’s in the process and making her feel like someone had set off a sparkler inside her chest. “How’re you doing? I hear you’ve had a rough time of it.”
From whom? Bobbi, of course. “I’m okay,” she said.
She’d gone to the community garden the night before and done some weeding in Millie’s plot. Seeing all Millie’s flowers blooming and healthy had been a comfort.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he added.
“Me, too. I already miss her.”
He nodded and they sat in silence. She wanted to thank him for the primrose he’d left on her doorstep, but if she did, then they’d have to talk about what that flower symbolized, and things would really get awkward. So, she sat there like an ingrate while her buns burned and that sparkler inside her kept shooting sparks.
“You all going to watch the fireworks to night?” Jason asked, including Amber in the conversation.
“After we go home and have a nap,” Amber replied, ruffling her son’s hair and making him giggle.
“How about you?” Jason asked Hope. “Hey, why don’t you come with me? We can talk about flowers.”
Love in Bloom Page 27