I’m aware.
Daisy picked up a photo of her grandmother perched on her great-aunt’s lap. Aunt D’s mouth was turned up in a smile, like she was happy to be holding her new little niece, but her eyes told a different story. Daisy turned it between her fingers, wondering again what had been going through the woman’s mind. And she just might be able to find out, because the real big find had been the diary buried at the bottom of the box. She hadn’t seen it at first because the small diary had been wedged between the pages of an old flower-shop ledger.
Daisy picked it up and flipped to the page she’d left off on. All the entries were written in the same slanting script as if her aunt had been rushing to get her thoughts down. Daisy wondered if she rushed in other parts of her life, too. Or was she slow and careful when she made flower arrangements for the shop? How did this relative of hers move through her day? What did she eat for breakfast? Who did she talk to?
What did she love?
This diary might be history, but to Daisy it was personal, and she wanted to know everything.
The first few pages were rather uneventful, spanning several months and detailing the ins and outs of opening the flower shop with her brother, John. But Daisy had a feeling things were about to get interesting. The last entry that she read involved a handsome stranger appearing on the scene…
May 16, 1925
He came in again today. Nathan, he says his name is. I’ve never seen him around town before and now he’s come in for flowers, twice in two days. I find this suspicious. John says he must have taken a fancy to me. Which I find absurd. He must have a sweetheart. Who else is he buying all these flowers for? Besides, I have no need for men to fancy me. Not anymore. Not ever again.
Ooh… okay, now things were getting good. Nathan had to be the guy in the photos, right? She kept going.
May 20, 1925
Nathan bought a dozen roses today. And he had the nerve to try and hang around the store after he was done picking them out. I went to the back and left John to make small talk.
May 27, 1925
Today he came for lilies. His home must look like a funeral parlor. He told me I looked nice in blue. I told him to have a good day.
Ha! Aunt D was sassy. Daisy liked that.
Her phone buzzed again.
I’m going to tuck in. Don’t stay up too late.
She sighed. She’d wanted to show Elliot the diary as soon as she found it, but she’d been kind of avoiding him since Beltane. Or avoiding him in real life, anyway. They texted nearly every night.
But Beltane had really freaked her out. The kissing, the middle of the night… cuddling, the way Elliotlookedat her, it was all getting a little too close to real. And even though Elliot had agreed to just being friends, Daisy wasn’t sure that was possible anymore. Maybe they’d already gone too far.
But she missed him.
She missed his crooked smile and his glasses and the way he turned pink when he was embarrassed.
She missed him, and that terrified her, so she was staying away for now. Elliot had been joking when he askedif she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off him, but he wasn’t wrong. She didn’t know if she could.
Her fingers itched to type:
Come over.
Fall in love with me.
Hold me.
Keep me safe.
She shook her head. Instead, she texted:
Okay, goodnight, Elliot.
Goodnight, Daisy.
She flopped back on her bed, diary still in hand. Maybe her aunt was handling things better.
