Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Naomi shrugged and hopped off the stool, quickly swiping at her cheeks as she turned away, but not before I noticed that her eyes had grown suspiciously bright with emotion.
“I told her the same thing we tell everyone. But God… it’s so hard sometimes, you know?” Without waiting for an answer, she exhaled heavily and recited the all-too-familiar line. “I just said we were doing our best to run the place the way Henry would have wanted and that we appreciate the support of long-time customers like her.”
“That’s all we can say, really. And we have to keep showing every customer we have that we still do the best work in town, that we still care about the things that are important in their lives. The last thing we need is to lose business to Simply Flowers across town because people think it’ll be different here now that Henry’s gone.”
I took a deep breath, trying to contain the sudden burst of anxiety I felt. It wouldn’t do any good to voice my fears about the business at this point. And besides, Naomi already knew them all.
“It is hard, though. I get that.”
I shook my head as I walked over to the door, flipping the faded little sign from Open to Closed.
“I just hope people are willing to cut us some slack if things aren’t exactly the same. I hope everyone in town—especially our long-time customers like Mrs. Linley—realize we’re doing the best we can under the circumstances. Anyway.”
I sighed, doing my best to push those thoughts aside. I had to stay focused, not only for my own peace of mind but for the sake of the business.
“Enough about that. We’ve still got some work to do. Will you check the computer for tomorrow’s orders while I count down the register, please? Let’s get a heads-up on what the morning will have in store for us.”
I slid the cash drawer out of the cash register and started walking it to the still-too-cluttered, still-too-cramped office. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to reorganize it yet, even though I’d been threatening to for years. The clutter still felt way too much like Henry.
“Aw, you sounded just like him when you said that. I miss all those little things he used to say,” Naomi said with a grin, then her brow furrowed as she let out a little sigh. “When does it start to get easier?”
I could only shrug and blink hard to hold back the tears that suddenly started to well up at her question. I knew exactly what Naomi meant, though. There were a million little moments every day when I’d hear something—or say something or do something—that reminded me of Henry. Or the feeling I would sometimes get of someone looking over my shoulder, even though I was usually the only one in the shop.
Under any other circumstances, it might have been a little spooky. But now? Those were the tiny bits of comfort that I could cling to. They were the little things that helped get me through the day.
It wasn’t all in my mind, though. I had no doubt that Henry was still watching over everything somehow. This was my chance to shine, to prove to Henry—and to myself—that I could keep the business running.
And not just running.
Growing. Prospering. Thriving.
The flower shop had been my boss’s baby, and even though I had come to terms with the fact that Henry really was gone—and I didn’t necessarily believe in ghosts—there still seemed to be a part of Henry—his soul, or his essence, or something—that was still very much alive and well in the shop.
It was a feeling that I hoped would last forever, no matter what changes Henry’s son, Brady, decided to make with the place once he finally arrived.
Even though I had never formally met Brady, I’d always had a little pang of envy when I thought of Henry’s only son. My boss never had talked much about him—or about anything else that happened outside the flower shop, really—but when he had, the pride in his eyes and emotion in his voice had always been apparent.
It was easy for me to imagine how nice it must have been for someone to grow up with such an attentive father.
Sure, Henry had been gruff and demanding, meticulous, and sometimes difficult to please, but those qualities had always pushed me to do better, to be better. And they had made the rare praise Henry would bestow so much more rewarding. I hadn’t been given awards just for showing up. I had had to earn every ounce of respect Henry had ever given me, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Working for Henry had made me a stronger person and a better woman than I’d been before. I didn’t doubt that it was mostly due to the fact that Henry had been not only more of a father to me than my biological dad had ever been but also a better one.