“I was planning to take my lunch after I sorted these books, but I suppose they can wait,” Sarah replied, looking at her watch. “What’s the bouquet for? Special occasion?”
“I buy one every week to display on the piano at church. My hope is that the congregation will be so distracted by the beautiful blooms that they don’t notice when I plunk out a wrong note here or there.”
Nana Jo was an accomplished pianist. Sarah figured the woman never made a musical mistake. But she loved the thoughtful gesture. It reminded her of Faith’s firehouse cookies, and it inspired Sarah to think of a way she could also give back to the community in a meaningful manner.
“Let me put this cart away and I’ll meet you in five. Dahlia should be able to get that book checked out for you at the front in the meantime.” Sarah nudged her chin toward the book in Nana Jo’s arms. “Mind if I ask what it is?”
“Just a how-to book on irrigation. Come springtime, I’m going to need to tend to the sprinklers and waterlines on the property, and I must be honest, that was always Harris’ job around the farm.”
“Have you ever thought of hiring a farmhand to help you out?” Sarah’s question was a bit bold as she knew the woman had her pride. Admitting she needed a little help when it came to her homestead wouldn’t come naturally.
Nana Jo just laughed. “I’m not about to pay someone for something that I can do on my own, dear.” She patted the cover of the old book. “Not when I’ve got the tools to figure it out. And thanks to the library, I can access those tools for free.”
Sarah couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride. She understood that the library’s role was to empower the community with access to knowledge, and she was pleased to play a small part in fulfilling that mission.
Just like they’d discussed, the women met moments later after Nana Jo had placed her borrowed book in the front seat of her truck and retrieved a beautiful blue and purple striped scarf from the cab to loop loosely around her neck.
It was a cold day; no wind to speak of but that didn’t change the frigid chill in the air.
Sarah took her gloves from her tote bag and slipped them onto her hands, thankful for the extra warmth they provided.
“I know we could drive, but it’s good to get these old legs moving.” Nana Jo did a little shimmy along the sidewalk, not quite a skip, not truly a full-on shuffle. Sarah hoped to be like Josephine when she grew older, still so spirited and full of energetic life to the point of dancing in public. Which also served as further proof that the woman had an ulterior motive in asking for Sarah’s company. There was absolutely no need for her steadying hand.
“I like getting my steps in, too,” Sarah agreed. “But now that Laney is a full-on toddler, I don’t seem to have any problem achieving my daily quota. She’s got me chasing her all over the place.”
Nana Jo smiled and nodded. “I remember that with my own kiddos, and then again with my grandbabies. Seemed like we were always pushing to get them walking as early as possible. But once they learn, they don’t stop. And in some cases, like with Lance, they only slow down when they’re forced to.”
Sarah recognized that this conversation wasn’t fully spontaneous. No, Nana Jo intentionally steered the topic toward Lance, something she’d been doing more frequently lately. But Sarah didn’t mind. In fact, she enjoyed talking about Lance, if only because she found herself thinking of him so often, too.
“The doctor has him reading,” Sarah offered. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
“I heardyou’rethe one that’s got him reading.” Nana Jo inclined a look at Sarah. “Something about a book club.”
“Oh, that’s just something I thought up to keep him accountable. Easier to follow through when you know you’ll be asked about it later.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Nana Jo slipped her hand into the crook of Sarah’s elbow, but not for balance. It was a gesture of affection, and Sarah’s heart squeezed at the endearing act.
The two women strolled down the walk, admiring the big store windows that had transitioned from Christmas motifs to winter themes. While Sarah always loved the colors of Christmas—the deep reds and forest greens associated with the beloved season—she also really enjoyed the lighter tones that accompanied the cold days of winter. Pale blues and lavenders. Pinks and creams and whites. In a way, they reminded her of the beautiful morning she’d shared with Lance. All of the stunning colors of a Snowdrift sunrise.
Joyful Blooms had gotten the memo. The moment Nana Jo and Sarah stepped into the florist, the shimmering colors of the chilly season surrounded them. It was a stunning display of iridescent hues, marked with glitter, crystals, and glassaccents. It was funny that the phrase “winter wonderland” was something mainly associated with Christmas, because the floral shop embodied it in every sense.
To Sarah’s surprise, Trinity was standing next to Rachel on the other side of the counter, both women busily assembling bouquets in vases spread out at their workspace.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.” Trinity’s eyes creased in the corners with warmth. Despite the traces of sadness lingering on her face, her smile reflected the genuine affection she offered all of her loyal customers. But it was still clear she was doing her best to hold up after the loss of her husband, and that resilience tugged at Sarah’s heartstrings.
“I’m sure you tell everyone that.” Nana Jo stepped up to the table and gave Trinity a wink.
“Only to the ones that it’s true about,” Trinity said at the same time she pivoted toward the floral cooler behind her to retrieve one of the most stunning arrangements Sarah had ever seen. The vase was large, with hydrangeas, lilies, and roses bursting with fresh blooms artfully tucked into it. Baby’s breath, along with sprigs of greenery, adorned the bouquet, inserted into just the right places, accentuating the natural beauty of each individual flower. It was an absolute work of art.
“Here’s this week’s arrangement.” Before sliding it across the counter, Trinity fiddled with a deep red rose one last time to adjust it to her satisfaction. “I hope this one will work out okay for you.”
“It’s breathtaking, my dear.” Nana Jo’s shaky hand moved gently over the petals as she admired each one. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
“She’s been doing a lot of that lately.” Rachel Joy looked up from her classic bouquet of a dozen pink roses. “I keep telling her she should take some time off, but every time I come into the shop, she’s already here working on another bouquet.”
“I’m trying to keep busy,” Trinity admitted with more guilt in her words than necessary. “It helps with…” She gulped, swallowing down her emotion. “Everything.”
Nana Jo’s hand moved from the bouquet to Trinity’s, enveloping it in a comforting grip. “You have to do what’s best for you, dear. And that often changes from one moment to the next in situations like yours.” She offered a tender pat on the back of Trinity’s hand. “When my Harris joined the Lord, all I could do was clean. Clean the house. Clean the barn. Clean the horse trailer. For those first six months after his passing, everything within a ten-acre radius was spic and span. I swear, those horse stalls were so clean you could eat off the floors.”
