Zooey works at Starlight Fields, the farm where I source many of our best flowers. Her mother started the business a couple of decades ago, and Zooey runs the operations as she prepares to take over one day.
Dressed in cargo shorts and a dirty hoodie, she’s got her sleeves pulled up and her hair tied back in a pony tail. “Hi, Nicholas,” she says. “Kavya.”
“Look at this week’s payload,” Kavya says, eyeing the flowers. “Nice.”
Zooey mumbles something as she messes with the delivery, but I don’t catch it. Before I can ask, she turns back to me.
“Hey, remember I told you how I had a great ranunculus crop coming in?”
“Of course.”
“We had someone calling, interested in the whole crop. My mom said to make sure we told you. I know you don’t have an official order in, but—you know.”
“I do know. Without your ranunculus, I’d be in deep trouble. I’ll make sure to give your mom a call. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Who wants all that ranunculus?
She nods, and I catch her eyes drifting toward Kavya.
“You’ve got a good ranunculus crop?” Kavya asks, arching an eyebrow but stoic as ever.
“Yeah. I think I’ve really perfected the growing conditions,” Zooey answers, but the motion of the shop stirs back up before they can extend the conversation.
The rest of the day flies by. I occasionally hear a bang or a clatter from outside, and I spot Clay walking by the window, hauling a ladder or a power tool. But the shop is busy enough that my mind doesn’t have much time to wander, except to notice how nice it is to see him. By the end of the day, I have to rush out the door to get home and prepare for dinner with Finn.
I go with nice trousers and a collared pink shirt, worn casually undone at the top. Dressed up a bit, but nothing formal. On the walk over to the Italian restaurant we both like, I wonder what’s been keeping him so busy these last couple of weeks. He recently finished culinary school, and I expected him to enjoy some free time after the heavy workload.
I hope there’s nothing to be concerned about.
I find Finn waiting outside the restaurant, and he’s as charming and kind as ever. His curly black hair is getting longer, and he’s sporting stubble, handsome against his dark brown skin. Finn is also in trousers and a button-up shirt, and seeing him, I immediately resolve not to let so much time pass without a friend-dinner on the books.
We do the most basic catching up while we’re getting seated. Our families are good; Blossom is doing well. It’s not until the food arrives that I finally get around to asking what has been keeping him so busy.
Finn twirls spaghetti on his fork. “About that. It’s been kind of a whirlwind, but an opportunity fell in my lap a few days ago, and I had to make a big decision fast...”
I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?”
Finn gives me a confident nod. “I’m opening an ice cream shop. Right here in the neighborhood.”
I blink, totally surprised but instantly in love with it. “An ice cream shop. That’s great!” I grin and raise my wine glass. “Of course you are!”
Finn chuckles. “You like the idea?”
“It’s amazing. I love that there will be another small business in the neighborhood, and I especially love that you’ll be running it. That’s wonderful, Finn.”
“You’ll remember when I took a class on making ice cream, and I was a bit obsessed. Correction. I remain very obsessed.”
“This is so good,” I tell him. “You’re going to devote your life to ice cream, and I get to eat the results.”
Finn gives me his nod, this little bob of his head that he does when he’s pleased.
“Have you picked a name?”
“Not yet.” He takes in a deep breath. “But hold on. There’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The shop is going to be on the other end of the neighborhood from Blossom, in the old hardware building. When I signed the lease this afternoon, I learned that the second half of the building was just rented out, too. There’s going to be a flower shop there, one of those online chain ones. Flower Hub.”
