The wound of the thought stung, but it did not bleed.
The florist scribbled a note on her ledger and set her pen down.
“Alright then, honey, I’ll just have your arrangement available here every Wednesday morning. You know, you’re back just in time for peak sunflower season.”
Hanna smiled. That much she did know.
“Actually, do you have something small I can pick up now? I hate to show up empty-handed.”
“Let me take a look.”
She ducked into the back of her shop, leaving Hanna to brush her fingertips over the bottles of wine and ouzo on the shelf in the window. She returned a moment later with a small bouquet of sunflowers and crisp, white dahlias.
“I have a big wedding this weekend and I’ve been playing with the dahlias and sunflowers together. I thought they’d be too dense beside one another, but I don’t know. I kind of like them.”
She held up the stems, rotating them to get Hanna’s opinion.
“What if you added something with a softer petal between to break up all the lines?”
She considered this, reaching for loose stems of velvet-soft greenery, the smooth planes falling between the petals for a nice break.
“Oh, I love that,” Hanna said.
“You know, whoever sent you packing is lucky you came back.”
Hanna’s face heated. She wasn’t so sure about that.
“I mean it, honey. You and I both know better than most how short life is. It’s good you didn’t waste too much time.”
“You’re so kind,” Hanna mumbled. “I just hope he feels the same way.”
“Well, if he doesn’t, his loss.” She reached for Hanna's crossed arms, leaning in with her sparkling eyes.
Hanna’s heart swelled at the gesture. It was the same feeling as when Cami hugged her—an impossible nostalgia for a version of her mother she would never get to know. She’d have to find Lisa in the curves of mothers who did not share her blood, but shared her burdens. She’d have to look for hard-fought wisdom carved into the smile lines of women in flower shops.
“Oh, honey,” she said, pulling Hanna into a hug.
“I’m fine,” Hanna protested, despite her eyes welling with tears.
“You deserve to be better than fine,” the florist sighed, patting Hanna’s back. She released her from the hug, but held onto her arms. “And don’t forget that.”
Hanna wiped at the corners of her eyes.
“Now,” she said, tucking a curl behind Hanna’s ear. “Go show whoever didn't follow you wherever the hell you ran off to, exactly what he missed.”
“Oh my god,” Sara screamed as Hanna stood in her doorway. “We’re getting married!”
Hanna threw her arms around her friend’s neck, the bouquet of sunflowers and dahlias releasing a sweet aroma behind her head.
“These are gorgeous,” Sara said. “Almost makes me wish we did dahlias.”
“It’s not too late,” Hanna said. “I’ve got the hook up.”
“Hmm,” Sara said, arranging the flowers in the teal mason jar she’d kept on the counter for Hanna’s weekly deliveries. She snapped a photo. “Maybe I’ll shoot her a text.”
Matty sighed beside her. “Stop torturing our vendors!”
“I’m not torturing anyone!”
