“Measuring yourself by your mom’s standards is a waste of time. She abandoned you more times than you can remember. If nothing in your life ever changed from today, you’d still be a better person than she’ll ever be.”
“She tried her best.”
“Did she?”
Andrea’s gentle question unsettled Paris more than she wanted to admit. As an adult, she knew her mom could have done more. But, as a child, she’d always thought the best of her. Always thought her mom wanted the best for both of them.
“You’re a great florist. Open the email. At least then you won’t be wondering what the loans officer said.”
With a trembling hand, Paris tapped on the message. She skimmed through the text, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the bank’s decision. “I’ve got it. The bank will lend me the money.”
Andrea grinned. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations.”
Paris hugged her friend. “Thank you. I would have spent most of the day worrying about the email.”
“That’s what friends are for. What’s next?”
“I have to make an appointment to sign the loan documents. After that, I need to work out what I want to do inside the cottage.” Taking a deep breath, she read the email again. “I can’t believe I’ll finally own my own flower shop.”
“Your grandma would have been proud of you.”
Paris nodded. It was a shame her mother would never feel the same way.
Chapter 6
Richard stopped in front of the first cottage on Anchor Lane. He’d spent most of the day at the old steamboat museum, creating furniture for his own business. Between that and overseeing the construction crews working on the tiny homes and the cottages, there were never enough hours in the day.
Thankfully, everything was running to schedule. By the end of next week, three more tiny homes would be driven to Wyoming for a social housing development. By the end of March, twenty families would be living in safe and warm houses designed for people who have experienced chronic homelessness.
If that wasn’t enough good news, orders for his outdoor furniture were growing. More than one client had been so impressed they’d returned for additional pieces. Hopefully, if sales continued to increase, he could resign from his job on the tiny home project and focus on his own work.
“Hey, boss. Did you pick up the extra platforms for the ladders?”
Richard opened his door and moved to the back of the truck. “They’re in here. I threw in a couple of charger’s for the power drills, too. It looked as though someone forgot theirs yesterday.”
Tommy sent him a lopsided grin. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Hard not to when you disappeared so often.”
“I had to wait until someone finished charging their batteries before doing mine. It worked out okay.”
“It will work out better with these.” Richard picked up the rechargers and a bucket of primer. “Has Paris told anyone what colored paint she wants?”
“Not yet, but you can ask her yourself.” Tommy looked over Richard’s shoulder. “What’s she wearing?”
Richard turned and sighed. Today’s outfit was a vibrant mix of red, yellow, and orange flowers. It didn’t surprise him that she’d chosen a dress that looked like a bouquet of flowers.
Tommy was still staring at Paris, not that Richard could blame him. “You’d better take the platform inside before the boss gets grumpy.”
With a heartfelt sigh, Tommy slid a platform out of the truck. But, instead of taking it inside, he waited for Paris to join them. “Nice dress, ma’am.”
She sent him a dimple-laden grin. “Thanks. Did Richard tell you I’m leasing the first cottage?”
“He did. You must be excited.”
“I am. I just met with a couple who are getting married in April. If they let me create the flowers for their wedding, they’ll be one of The Flower Cottage’s first clients.”
“That’s awesome.”
