by Arlene James
“Thank you for your help.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
“Say hi to Isabella for me.”
“Sure.” He opened the door, the jaunty little bell ringing cheerily, and paused. Looking back over his shoulder, he said, “Look, this isn’t Boston. Things move slower here, and there aren’t as many conveniences, but the town wants this to work as much as you do. Just give it a chance.”
She nodded, and her glasses slid down her nose. “Of course. It’ll come together.”
“That’s the spirit,” he told her.
She pushed up her glasses and put on a smile. He went out, leaving her alone. Lily grabbed a screwdriver, and went back to work. Miss Mars came by with a bologna sandwich for lunch, and the two women chatted about some outdoor furniture that Miss Mars thought might make suitable living room furnishings for Lily’s apartment. Lily promised to think about it, but then she fixed her mind on arranging supply bins in the workspace behind the scarlet wall so she could start unpacking her boxes and cases. Miss Mars left her to it, and Lily got to work.
When her bell tinkled again, she spun about, expecting Miss Mars or Tate. Someone else stood in the open doorway, however, a slender, petite woman of about sixty. Her short silver-gray hair had been styled to softly frame the strong features of a handsome face that just missed being too long thanks to a bluntly squared chin, prominent cheekbones and large blue eyes. She wore just a touch of mauve eye shadow and a complimentary shade of lipstick. Her tailored pantsuit and pumps marked her as a professional woman, as did the small leather handbag that she clutched to her side.
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Coraline Connolly.” Then she did the most amazing thing.
She opened her arms, stepped forward and gave Lily something she hadn’t even realized she needed. A hug.
Chapter Three
“You must be Lily Farnsworth,” Coraline said, reaching up to pat Lily’s cheek.
Lily towered over the older woman. Her short stature did not lessen the mantle of authority that she wore like a second skin, however. About sixty, she exuded an aura of unshakeable conviction. Lily bowed her head, pushed up her eyeglasses and smiled.
“A shy one,” Coraline Connolly deduced kindly. Lily’s startled gaze zipped upward, colliding with Coraline’s amused one. “I’ve seen a thousand just like you, my dear, some too timid to let go of their mothers’ skirts on the first day of school, some who didn’t look up from their desks for the first week, at least one who didn’t speak aloud for a whole year.”
“Children,” Lily whispered.
“Not all,” Coraline refuted. “The last, the one who didn’t speak, was the mother of a student.” Shocked, Lily blinked. “Shyness can be a burden and a handicap,” Coraline went on. “You are not handicapped, I think, but you’ll be burdened until you learn to accept yourself as God made you.”
Lily drew back at that, not quite sure what to make of it. As usual, she chose to do what she always did when puzzled; she tucked the idea away for perusal later.
“You’re a member of the SOS Committee.”
“That’s right. Welcome to Bygones.”
“Thank you. I—I’m glad to be here.”
Coraline laughed. “That sounded a bit tentative.”
Lily’s slender hands fluttered. “Oh, I’m just… That is, I only got here last night, and it’s a lot of work. But I’ll have everything ready for the opening. I’m sure I will.”
Coraline nodded and glanced around. “Is everything to your liking?”
“Oh, yes. I love the shop. And the apartment, too, though it’s rather bare right now. But that can wait.”
“All right. I assume that Tate Bronson has been in to see you.”
“He was here a good part of the morning, actually.”
“I see, and did he say when he would return?”
“No, not really.”
Coraline nodded thoughtfully before asking, “Do you need anything?”
Lily looked around the shop. What she needed most was encouragement, confidence, but she couldn’t very well say so, not even to this kindly woman. She shook her head.
“Well, I won’t keep you longer than necessary,” Coraline said. “I know how busy you must be, getting ready for next Monday’s big event. I just wanted to let you know what the committee has planned for that day.”
She went over the details, noting that immediately after Independence Day, the patriotic decorations would come down and the Grand Opening banners would go up. Each of the new businesses would be showcased in a special edition of the Bygones Gazette, the local weekly newspaper, on the Friday before the Grand Opening. Following the close of business on that first Monday, the committee would sponsor a reception in the Community Room across the street.
“Tate will be your official host that day.”
Lily nodded. “That all sounds great. I have a fresh flower delivery coming on Friday morning, so everything should be in place in plenty of time.”
Coraline smiled. “Wonderful. Well, it was nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Lily replied, offering her hand. “Come again. Soon.”
Instead of shaking hands, Coraline gave her another quick hug. Afterward she tilted her head, asking, “Would you mind if I prayed for you?”
“Not at all,” Lily exclaimed, smiling broadly. “Please do.”
Coraline patted her cheek again and left her. Lily sighed, pleased. She felt that she had at least two friends now, Miss Ann Mars and Coraline Connolly. It would be stupid of her to wish that she might count Tate Bronson among their number; more than stupid. It would be part of the same unhealthy pattern of the past, part of what she’d left Boston to get away from, what she needed to leave behind and avoid in the future. No, she wouldn’t wish to count Tate among her friends, but if it should happen… Turning off that thought, she went back to work.
* * *
Miss Mars dropped in on Wednesday with both breakfast and lunch. Others came by to say hello, beginning with the shop owners on either side of Love in Bloom: Melissa Sweeney from the bakery on the corner and Allison True from the bookstore on the other side of the flower shop. Josh Smith went up and down the street distributing cups of coffee from his first official brew. The Cozy Cup Cafe—on the corner opposite the bakery—was ready for business, he declared, so he stayed to get Lily’s computer system operational before moving on to do the same for others. The mayor came by to say hello and welcome her to town, as did the chief of police, Joe Sheridan. Both were members of the SOS Committee.
Whitney Leigh, a serious young reporter with the Bygones Gazette, spent a few minutes getting background information for Friday’s special edition, but Lily’s stammering answers didn’t seem to impress her very much, so she didn’t stay long. Other than asking how many years of experience Lily had as a florist and who she thought the mystery benefactor might be behind the grants, Whitney only asked a few questions about the specials Lily intended to offer for the Grand Opening.
Lily knew she shouldn’t feel anxious, but she couldn’t help it. So much seemed to be riding on this enterprise, and she couldn’t help feeling unequal to the task. Even as the others ventured in and out of her shop, she wondered when Tate and Isabella would return. She considered calling Tate to ask his advice on a number of small issues but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she got out the paint cans and a brush and tackled the counter.
When Miss Mars closed her shop early and went upstairs, then came down again wearing a hat and gloves with her usual shirtwaist dress, Lily realized that she’d have to do dinner on her own. A moment later an aging but well-kept blue sedan pulled up to the curb, and Miss Mars got inside with another woman. The car drove away, turning left onto Bronson Avenue. Feeling abandoned, Lily gave herself a stern talking-to. She had moved halfway across the country on the basis of a newspaper article. The least she could do now was walk down the street to the grocery store on her own. Determined, she left the shop and set out.
With only three checkout lanes, all currently unmanned, the Hometown Grocery didn’t have much to recommend it when compared to the stores in Boston. The fresh produce department would have fit neatly into the bed of a pickup truck, and the butcher department had obviously been shut down, leaving only a single refrigerated case of packaged meats. Lily wandered the aisles virtually alone, without even the company of piped music to mute the squeak of the wheels on the shopping cart. Nevertheless she found all the ingredients for a fine salad, including a small tin of cocktail shrimp and her favorite bottled dressing. She gave up trying to find a suitable bread to eat with it and settled for crackers, thinking that the new bakery was going to do well here. While she was at it, she bought a few things for breakfast and lunch the following day, too.
Knowing that she couldn’t carry more, she resisted the urge to buy kitchen gadgets from the selection offered and approached the checkout, surprised to find that a tall thin brunette had materialized from somewhere. The brunette displayed quick efficiency, her thin dark hair scraped back into a tight ponytail.
“You must be the florist.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Lily Farnsworth.” She handed over several bills, smiling.
“Heard about you from Tate,” said the brunette, making change.
“Oh?”
This elicited a nod as the woman began bagging the groceries.
Lily couldn’t help wondering just what Tate had said or where he was keeping himself, for that matter. She thought he was supposed to be her host.
“Where is everyone?” she asked tentatively.
“Wednesday evening,” the woman replied, as if that was answer enough. When Lily just blinked at her, she added, “Most folks are in church for midweek service.”
“Ah.”
“Folks don’t have midweek service back in Boston?”
“Some do, yes.” But Lily’s church had not.
“Hereabouts, nearly everyone goes to midweek service,” the checker said. “We rotate shifts here at the grocery so no one has to miss the service more than once a month.”
“I see.”
“Folks in Boston must eat shrimp,” the checker commented cheerfully, pushing the bags toward Lily.
“Yes, we…they do,” Lily said, gathering up the bags. “Boston is known for its seafood.”
The brunette smiled. “That’s good. Maybe I can move those cans back there now.”
Lily glanced down at her groceries and nodded. Canned shrimp and midweek service. Well, it was a start. She had the makings of a reasonable meal and a good explanation for the empty aisles. She liked the thought of a churchgoing community. She’d been the odd man out for as long as she could remember, the one who didn’t fit, even among her own family. Maybe it would be different here.
* * *
Lily slept in the next morning, it being a national holiday. She expected some sort of community Independence Day celebration, but when none had materialized by midmorning, she went downstairs and got busy. Miss Mars came up with a suggestion. Lily doubted it could work at first. Even if the flowers arrived precisely on schedule the next day, she didn’t have the resources to do as the lady proposed.
“You can find what you need in my shop,” Miss Mars insisted. “Just use your imagination.”
Lily shrugged doubtfully. “First I would need to visit the other businesses.”
“Of course. That’s no problem. I think everyone is doing just what you are today.”
How could Lily refuse to try after that? Leaving her shop unlocked—as Miss Mars pointed out, they would be within “shouting distance” all the time—they went from shop to shop, starting with the Sweet Dreams Bakery on the corner. Miss Mars was right. All the newcomers were hard at work.
Melissa Sweeney could not have been sweeter or more enthusiastic, and her shop gave Lily lots of ideas. Melissa eagerly accepted the offer of the loan of a floral arrangement to decorate her counter for the Grand Opening. Josh Smith, at the Cozy Cup Cafe, who struck Lily as a bit of a computer geek, did the same, as did Allison True at the Happy Endings Bookstore, Patrick Fogerty of The Fixer-Upper hardware store and Chase Rollins at Fluff & Stuff, the pet shop.
The problem remained supplies, but Lily did as Miss Mars advised and combed through the back room of the This ‘N’ That, with happy results. Not only did she find some wonderful containers—a tin bread box, an old typewriter, a battered percolator, a bird cage, an antique vase and a rusty length of pipe, as well as a pair of old cowboy boots and the hat to go with them—she even found some usable silk flowers. She also discovered several bits of furniture that she could use in her apartment. In fact, the outdoor stuff that Miss Mars wanted her to consider didn’t look very “outdoorsy” at all. Rattan with red cushions about the same shade of scarlet as the short wall in her workroom, the three-piece set might work out just fine.
Lily took the lot and got it all at a very good price. At least Miss Mars was seeing some profit from the SOS project. Hauling as much of her newly found treasures over to her place as she could, Lily discovered that she had company.
“Lily!” Isabella cried. Dressed in patriotic garb, she rushed forward to throw her arms around Lily’s waist as if they were old, dear friends. “Happy Independence Day!”
Lily laughed, juggling armfuls of treasures. “Hello. How good to see you. How have you been?”
“Fine. Your shop looks pretty.” Isabella obviously liked the lavender counter and the little scarlet heart dotting the i in the shop logo.
“I’m guessing that your favorite color is purple,” Lily said, depositing her goods on the countertop, but Isabella shook her head.
“Pink!”
“Really?” Lily brushed off her hands, smiling. “I’ll remember that.”
Tate, whom Lily had tried hard not to notice too keenly, made an impatient sound. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes.”
Lily’s delight at seeing them diminished. “I’m sorry. Miss Mars came up with a plan for me to make floral arrangements for each of the new shops to use as decorations for the Grand Opening, but I had to find the right containers. And look! Just look at what we found.”
She started describing how she would use each of her treasures. “What could be better for the Fluff & Stuff than a bird cage? Right? I’m thinking blues and greens and yellows. We’ll hang it right next to that cheeky parrot of his. And the percolator will work great for the coffee shop. Not sure about those flowers, maybe some ‘chocolaty’ reds. With a little paint, the bread box will make a beautiful display for the bakery next door. All pastels there. Oh, my favorite is an antique typewriter. That’s still across the street. It’s sooo heavy, but how perfect is that for a bookstore? Plus, I’m finally going to have furni—”
“So you’re going to do all this and still be ready for the opening?” Tate interrupted sharply.
Stung, Lily bowed her head. “Yes, I—I think so. If I have some help.”
Tate stepped back, and Lily cringed inwardly. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to imply… That is…I suppose I am a bit overwhelmed, but when Miss Mars suggested that flower arrangements for all the shops would be a good way to showcase my design abilities and dress up the shops for the Grand Opening, too…” Lily sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps I’m not as forceful as I should be. I’ve always been a bit shy, and…” She let the words dwindle away, uncertain where she was even going with this.
Tate cleared his throat and mumbled something about being worried when he’d found the shop empty and not wanting to overburden her when she was trying to get the place together.
In the midst of the awkward silence that followed, Isabella piped up with “You were wrong, Dad, and Mrs. Connolly was right.”
Tate speared her with a pointed glance. “Duh.”
“Just saying,” Isabella went on, shrugging.
Lily looked from one to the other of them in confusion.
Tate rolled his eyes and admitted, “Coralin
e came to see me, okay? She thought you needed help and wanted to organize a work brigade, but I assumed you were doing okay and we just needed to stay out of your way.” He looked aside, adding, “You appeared to be getting things together. Others seemed to need more help.”
Lily had to admit that, from what she’d seen just today, a bakery, coffee shop, bookstore, pet shop and hardware store all required significantly more preparation than a floral shop. “You have a point there. I’m the problem. I—I haven’t been as focused as I need to be. Frankly, being from Boston, I’m used to having more people around.” Most of whom would actually speak to her without waiting for her to speak first.
Tate rubbed a hand over his head. “Well, about that, the committee sort of asked the townspeople to leave all you newcomers alone until you get set up and settled.”
Lily straightened. “What?” They had actually asked people to leave her alone?
“We had to,” he argued. “Otherwise, they’d have been all over you on day one with covered dishes and dinner invitations.”
Lily smiled. “Really?”
“We had to turn down every civic group in town to keep them from plastering you all with invitations to join everything from the Quilting Club to the Birthday Lunch Bunch.”
“Seriously?”
“You name it, you’re going to get hit up to join it. Soon.”
“Oh. That’s…that’s nice.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “You can tell me later if you still think that’s nice.”
“No, really, I was looking forward to the sense of community that you always hear about in a small town. In fact, I was hoping for a community-wide Independence Day celebration.”
“Not this year,” Tate said grimly. “The city had to decide between that and the Grand Opening reception.”
“And they decided on the reception?”
“It seemed more important.”