How does one take one of those smiles to keep?
How do I find some of that joy?
He’s dying.
Fuck all of this, and fuck him too.
I’m getting flowers in honor of her. I’m getting flowers for her and Liz, my baby sister. He doesn’t get to mess up my whole Sunday.
I walk in. From outside, it looked happy and peaceful; inside, it’s more like organized chaos. The room is buzzing with people wandering around, asking questions, some patrons using the ladder to get to higher shelves, children running around giggling and knocking over books. And a woman is managing it all like a boss.
By the register where she stands, there’s a small bar, with two high top stools and bottles of wine but also coffee. I’ll take it.
I grab a seat and look for a menu, but the only one is for wine. If fate was a thing, then today, it is not on my side.
“Give me a second. I’ll be right with you,” the beautiful girl says, not looking at me but continuing to ring up the customer in front of her, making small talk.
Liam:
you okay?
The text comes through, but I turn my phone off and slide it in my pocket. Liam should be spending this day celebrating his dad and kids, but he’s worrying about me instead, like the good friend he is. But no, I’m not okay. I’m also not burdening him with my demons.
“Welcome to The Blooming Wine. Do you know what you’re getting?” Her sweet voice snaps me into reality, and everything comes back crashing into place. The solemn music playing in the background, the children laughing in the corner, the book-covered walls, and the scent of coffee—it’s all surrounding this girl with the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. The color is hard to name, somewhere in between green and blue. Not bright blue like the sky, not deep green, more like aquamarine.
The green overalls with tiny flowers that contour her body complement her almost copper hair and highlight the freckles tracing a map across her face. Her shoulders and chest have been kissed by them too. A sprinkle of freckles over her perfect skin, surrounding a necklace with a silver pendant I can’t make out because it hides behind the edge of her top, right between her breasts. And now I’m staring.
I clear my throat. “Sorry. It’s my first time here. Do you only have a wine menu?”
“No worries. We have others,” she says with a subtle smile, as crimson paints her full cheeks, confirming she saw me ogling her. “Let me grab them for you.” She walks out of the small space in front of the counter but turns back to me. “Coffee, flowers, or both?”
“What?”
“The menus. Do you want the coffee or the flower menus?”
“Um, both, please.”
She smiles softly and walks to the back.
I don’t know if it’s the space or that I’m not locked in my car with the memories, the songs, the thoughts of earlier today. Maybe I need to sell that damn car. I’ve only ever gotten bad news while sitting in it.
“Here you go. Let me know if you have any questions. I’ll be over there.” She points at a bookshelf that looks like it’s falling apart and leaves me to explore the menus.
I don’t even know what I want or need more: a hug, to scream, or a warm drink. My therapist would be proud I could narrow it down to three things as opposed toI don’t know. I’ve come far. Look at me go.
This is a very eclectic list, and I’m impressed—everything from different bouquet styles, mostly wildflowers. Some are paired with wines and even books.
“This is impressive,” I say, unable to contain the words.
“Thank you. A lot of love has gone into every piece of this place.” The emotion in her eyes is not something I’m used to seeing. It’s almost as if she misses what she’s talking about, slightly out of reach.
“You know what, what’s your favorite?” I ask. Everything sounds so good.
“For coffee or flowers?”
“Both.”
“Do you have allergies?” I shake my head. “Any non-negotiables?”
