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)
And something was missing.
Henry.
I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea that my friend and boss was really gone forever. I didn’t know when I’d come to terms with that, and a part of me was scared of the day I did. Getting used to Henry being gone felt like it would mean I was okay with it or that I’d gotten over the loss.
The truth was, though, that I was still far from getting over it—even though I knew that, realistically, life had to go on.
Realistically, I shouldn’t feel guilty for only ordering breakfast for one.
Realistically, I knew all of those things… but if there was one thing I’d learned over the years, it was that my heart was far from realistic. Dealing with the loss of my mentor and friend was turning out to be no exception.
Henry wouldn’t have wanted me to mope, of course—and in fact, would probably have had some not-so-sensitive things to say on the subject—but even though it went against everything in my nature to let myself feel down for more than a few minutes at a time, this was different.
Losing Henry was bigger than anything I had ever dealt with before and was by far the hardest thing I’d ever had to accept.
But I did have to accept it. Or at least, I would have to… sometime.
Sometime soon.
It was only after I’d been sitting in the office, sipping my still-too-hot latte for nearly five minutes, that I realized the computer screen in front of me was still blank. I was almost certain I’d turned it on as soon as I walked in.
Okay, great. It’s gonna be one of those mornings. Thanks, universe.
“Come on, stupid machine,” I muttered under my breath when the little green cursor suddenly appeared again with no warning. That would be a good thing if I actually knew how I’d managed to get it back.
Especially when it immediately disappeared again.
I stifled a sigh as I turned the ancient machine off and back on again, trying to remember what the IT guy had said the last time I had called about this exact problem. Had it been the… router? The… adapter? The motherboard? Nope.
I couldn’t remember what the IT guy had said to do… but then again, my technical knowledge didn’t extend much further than flipping the switch and unplugging it.
I wasn’t even sure what a motherboard was.
If I was being honest, I wasn’t even sure if that was an actual thing.
I frowned as I realized that another call for technical support would certainly be in my near future. That wasn’t how I’d hoped to spend my morning. I just wanted to be with my flowers, to keep my hands busy and my mind clear.
Now, though, my morning needed as much of a reset as the computer did.
But at least it was still early in the day. Hopefully, there would still be time to fit in tech support and a little flower therapy.
The bell above the front door jingled, and I poked my head out of the office, grateful for something else to focus on. I grinned when I saw Mr. Robbins, another of Henry’s long-time and loyal customers, shuffle in.
After dealing with the beeping-and-blinking-and-still-not-computing computer, even the old man’s shopping style—with his noncommittal shrugs and one-word answers always a test of my skills as a clairvoyant—would almost be a welcome distraction.
At least I would be in my element when dealing with Mr. Robbins. Computers might be a foreign language, but flowers?
Yeah, I would gladly talk about those all day.
“Good morning, Mr. Robbins,” I called out, putting on my best smile and feeling a little bit of relief as I walked out of the office and around the front counter to greet the first customer of the day. “How are you doing?”
The older man took his time studying—and touching and smelling—three separate arrangements without acknowledging the fact that I had asked him a question.
If I hadn’t already been familiar with Mr. Robbins’ little quirks, I would’ve thought the man was either hard of hearing or unnecessarily rude.
Well, if I was being honest, he was both of those things. However, I’d learned not to take any of it personally years ago. It was just who Mr. Robbins was. And at least the man was self-aware enough to buy flowers for his wife on a regular basis, so that redeemed him a little in my eyes.
“Hm?” Mr. Robbins finally made eye contact, although he couldn’t have seemed more disinterested in my question if he’d tried. “Oh, as well as can be expected, I guess.”
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch at the reply. It was the same response I always got from the man. The day Mr. Robbins came in and wasn’t doing “as well as could be expected” would be the day I would start to worry about the old codger.