“Car accident when I was four and Elena was two.”
“Oh, Tom! I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Johnson laces her fingers and rests them on her belly. “I didn’t know that. But you and Carter weren’t very close, if I remember correctly.”
“No, we were on the same team but he was defense and I was offense. We hung out with our side. Dunno why. Just the way it worked out. But I loved his movies, Ma’am. It’s a real loss that things went this way.”
“Went this way,” she repeats, dazed by the reminder of what he did. “If I’d have known how much he was struggling financially I would’ve…” Her eyes flick to mine as if she almost said more than she wanted to. “I can’t think about that right now. Please, keep my spirits lighter. Tell me one more thing about your plans for Zoe. Just to brighten my spirits a little. If you don’t mind.”
I scratch my head, “Plans?” blinking to their wood floors, rugs pulled under the tables and arranged as a walking path. I’ve never told anyone my plans. But I want to help, and I trust she won’t give it away to Zoe next time they cross paths. “Well, I have it in my mind that one day I’ll take her to Piedmont park, since she loves plants so much, and I’ll bring a picnic lunch and…” I laugh, meeting Mrs. Johnson’s expectant gaze. “I’ve never told anyone about it but I have a notebook of things that I’d like to read to her on that day.”
“What’s in it?”
“ThatI’m afraid I can’t tell you, Mrs. Johnson. I want her to be the first one to know.”
She claps again. “Now you’ve really piqued my interest!”
Cecil Johnson walks by and stops in the doorway. “Can you believe those assholes just left?! Finally! What’s that smell?”
“My ham!” She runs off, and I share a look with Carter’s father, one where I am silently told the flowers in the box at my feet are still not wanted. He grumbles something unintelligible and storms off.
I waste no time placing the vases just as Mrs. Johnson directed, even jogging to my Jeep for the second box, quickly finishing the job alone because I can hear they’ve begun arguing in the kitchen. How do I get out of here politely without drawing attention to the fact that I can hear their every word? I can’t just disappear without a goodbye. That would be rude, and I was raised differently. Plus, it could reflect badly on Florist Shop.
Tensing up, I call out, “The flowers are all set, Mrs. Johnson. Good seeing again.”
She calls back, “Thank you Tom!”
“You’re welcome. And Mr. Johnson, if I see any reporters on my way out, I’ll flip ‘em off for you.”
“Just go!” he shouts.
“Be nicer, Cecil!”
His voice cracks. “I lost my boy, Louisa.”
I quietly open the front door as I hear him in the distance break down, sobbing, his wife and the mother of his son, crooning to him, “Oh honey, I know. There, there. I’ve got you. He’s at peace now, finally.”
Stepping out into the sunlight, I take a deep breath and head to my Jeep with the empty boxes, feeling like something healing just happened, and maybe, by a trigger, I was a part of it. Helped it along.
Climbing in, I hit the ignition and say aloud, “Carter, buddy, you’re missed. I remember you saying once that you didn’t feel your old man was there for you, but I think, if you’re watching, you just saw he loves you. Wish you knew that before.”
Checking my clipboard for the next address, I pull away from my illegal parking job and head for Mrs. Thompson’s birthday celebration, turning up feel-good music to clear the energy and be able to do the best job I can with a smile. For Zoe.
Zoe Cocker…
I almost asked you out today.
Almost.
I can’t help but wonder.
What would you have said?
FIVE
Zoe
“Finally!” Ms. Perez frowns, walking up to me from where she was patrolling the front desk, as an exceptional manager does when it’s this busy, I guess.
One of her security guards hurries over to help me by scooting the old arrangement out of the way, its flowers brown at the edges, leaves and garnishes limp. If I had brought this when I was supposed to, that eyesore wouldn’t have greeted everyone who has come into the hotel all last night and this morning.