Page 73 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Stalker

“My first stepdad was my sister Hydrangea’s father. He didn’t last long, and Hy doesn’t see him very often at all. He never sent child support, and Mom didn’t go after him for it. Then came a few boyfriends. One of them was Gladiolus’ dad. We never knew which one, and Ola didn’t much care since they were all kind of scumbags. Then came Keith.” Shelooked sad and took a slow drink of her juice. “He was the love of her life. All of us loved him. They got married, and soon the triplets came. Life was good for a long time.”

I saw she was tearing up, so I changed the subject. “All of you are named after flowers?”

“Yes,” she laughed, wiping her eyes. “Daisy, Hydrangea, Gladiolus, Carnation, Tulip, and Sunflower.” She rolled her eyes. “I got the only normal name. Everyone else, besides Tulip, goes by nicknames—Hy, Ola, Carna, Sunny.”

“Why doesn’t Tulip go by a nickname?” I asked.

“What would it be? Lippy? Tutu? Nothing ever sounded right, so we just always called her Tulip. She seemed okay with it, though.”

“That’s good.” Her mom sounded like a flake, but I sure wasn’t going to say it.

“Anyway, Keith could only take so much of my mom, so he divorced her a couple of years ago. Still, he’s been great. I really think of him like a dad. He’s a truck driver now, but he sends money home each month and has been part of the difference in Mom’s flower shop staying open or having to close.” She speared a strawberry with her fork and waved it around while she talked. “Hy has work study this year, so she gets out of school at noon. She opens the shop and runs it. Mom just arranges the flowers. Ola helps when she gets home from school. The triplets are super involved in dance, so they’re only able to help when they don’t have practice.”

Her life had been… very different from mine. I couldn’t imagine my parents just letting the kids take over to keep things afloat. “And that’s what you want to do when you graduate? You want to go back home and run your mom’s flower shop? Help raise your sisters?”

She paused, putting her fork down, the strawberry forgotten. “Want?” She shook her head. “But sometimes there are things we need to do that have to take precedence over what we want.”

“Did you read that on an inspirational poster somewhere?”

She laughed and threw a blueberry at me. “That’s not nice.”

I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Can we talk about a few things? Get them out of the way now so that we can just have fun together the next three months?”

Her eyes got wide. “I mean, yeah. But you’re kind of scaring me.”

“It’s not scary, I promise. I’ve already paid off your mom’s debts. The building the flower shop is in is hers now. That includes both floors—the shop on the first floor and the apartment on the second floor.”

“Already? I didn’t mean you had to buy the whole building…”

“I wanted to. I also set up college funds for your younger sisters, as well as gave your sister Hydrangea a black Amex card for her to handle clothing, food, school supplies, all of that for your family.”

Her mouth hung open.

“But,” I continued, “you might want to have a serious conversation with Hy and Ola soon. They have plans for that flower shop.”

“They do?” I was shocked to hear that.

“Yes. Carmen drove to Crosston and talked with them. They both want to go to community college close to home and work in the shop. They want to change the name and run it together.”

“Really?”

I nodded, watching the emotions play over her face. “What about Mom?”

“She’s already in a really nice facility in Arizona to work on herself for a while. She might stay on at the flower shop as creative director or just to do weddings, or she might move on to something else entirely. She doesn’t know yet.”

She half stood up from the table. “But who’s with the girls while Mom’s away…”

“Your stepdad Keith’s mom is there with them. She’s taking care of them,don’t worry.”

“Oh.” She plopped back down in the chair, sat there for a few seconds, and then promptly burst into tears. These weren’t mild, pretty tears that ran silently over her cheeks, either. They were great, wracking, noisy sobs. Her face turned red, and her eyes swelled quickly.

I stood up, horrified, and went to comfort her. She collapsed on the table, her head buried in her crossed arms. I sat down beside her, rubbing circles on her back, not sure of what else to do or say.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, as her sobs abated. “I thought you’d be happy…”

She jerked her head up and stared at me. “Iamhappy. I’m so relieved. I’ve had the weight of a million moons on my shoulders, I swear. It’s been awful.”

“So, the tears coming from your face are happy ones?”