Thursday arrives faster than I expect. I spend the morning unpacking boxes in the apartment above Petals & Promises, the afternoon reorganizing the shop’s inventory, and the evening staring at my closet trying to decide what one wears to a book club in a small coastal town.
I settle on jeans and a soft sleeveless top—casual but put-together. The kind of outfit that says “I’m friendly” without screaming “I’m desperately lonely and hoping you’ll like me.”
The address on the card takes me out to a long oyster-shell driveway. Nestled among tall Spanish-moss covered oaks is a darling cottage, right on the coastline.
Jessica answers the door. “Hey, girl! Come on in.”
My stomach flutters as I enter a warm, cozy living room with heart pine floors and a soft blue area rug, book clutched in my hands. A group of women around my age are arranged in comfortable chairs around a low table covered in coffee cups and what looks like homemade cookies.
Jessica leads me to an empty armchair. “Everyone, this is Delilah Smart. She’s taking over Petals & Promises.”
A chorus of welcomes greets me. Jessica makes introductions quickly.
“That’s Hazel—she’s our fearless leader and has four daughters, so she’s basically survived everything.”
A warm-faced woman with auburn hair and kind eyes smiles. “Welcome, honey. Grab a seat. We were just about to start.”
“Amber owns the restaurant The Salty Pearl near your shop,” Jessica continues. “She’ll keep you fed and happy.”
“Jo owns Driftwood and Dreams, the boutique on the boardwalk. She joined book club last year.”
Jo waves. “These ladies are dangerous matchmakers. Consider yourself warned.”
“And that’s Caroline. We finally convinced her to join after she graduated from college and landed her dream job with Reed Development Corp focusing on sustainable development in coastal areas.”
“Michelle over here owns Twin Waves Brewing Co and is married to one of Caroline’s bosses, Grayson. And my husband, Scott, is his business partner,” Jessica adds, settling into a chair beside Scott, who’s appeared with fresh coffee, “who crashes our meetings when we’re discussing his books.”
“Which is often,” Scott says, kissing Jessica’s temple before sitting beside her. “Since I’m married to the best book reviewer in North Carolina.”
The easy affection between them makes my heart ache and hope simultaneously. This—this community, this warmth, this found family—is exactly what I need.
“So, Delilah,” Hazel says, pouring me coffee from a carafe. “Tell us about yourself. What brings you to Twin Waves?”
I wrap my hands around the warm mug. “My mom owned the florist shop. She’s retiring, and I’m taking over.”
“Are you from here originally?” Amber asks.
“When I was little, but then my parents divorced and I lived with my dad in Asheville. But Mom’s been in Twin Waves for twenty years. I just...never visited much.” The lie tastes bitter,but the truth is too complicated. That I’ve avoided Twin Waves like it holds ghosts. That coming here means facing a past I’ve spent a decade running from.
“What made you decide to move now?” Jo’s question is gentle, curious.
I take a breath. “I needed a fresh start. After my divorce.”
The table goes quiet for a moment—not awkward, but compassionate. Like they all understand what those words cost.
“This is a good town for fresh starts,” Michelle says, appearing with a tray of pastries. “And second chances, just ask Hazel. And occasionally third chances when you’re really stubborn about it.”
Everyone laughs, and the tension eases.
“Are you looking forward to running the shop?” Jessica asks.
“I am. I grew up around flowers. Mom taught me everything.” I smile, thinking of childhood afternoons in her old shop in Asheville. “I love the language of flowers. The symbolism. The way you can say things with blooms that you can’t say with words.”
“That’s beautiful,” Caroline says. “So romantic.”
“Which brings us to tonight’s discussion,” Hazel announces. “We’re talking about second chance romances. What makes them work? What makes them believable?”
I feel everyone’s attention shift, but not in an uncomfortable way. More like they’re including me in something important.
