Page 5 of Just Let Go

Not that she didn’t love Mimi. After all, the older woman had done so much for her—treated her, in many ways, like a daughter when Quinn so desperately needed a mother. Mimi had made her the most beautiful corsage for her senior prom and explained to her how important it was to protect her purity even though boys were often very persistent. Mimi had hugged her through several low, low days, the kind of days Quinn hoped were behind her now.

But in the back of her mind, Quinn had never viewed the flowershop as Mimi’s. It was as if Mimi were just taking care of it until Quinn was ready.

As caretakers went, Mimi was certainly a good one. The best. But Forget-Me-Not was a Collins legacy, and Quinn was ready to take the lead.

“You’re going to do a fantastic job, Quinn,” Mimi said.

Quinn smiled. “I hope so. I want to make you proud.”

I want to make my mother proud.

Mimi stepped out of the back room and into the shop. She stood behind the counter, where Quinn was accustomed to seeing her. “You’ve already made me proud, hon.” She smiled and slung her large purse over her shoulder. “Now, one little piece of advice from an old bird who learned the hard way?”

“Of course.” Quinn took a few steps closer, the faint light from the back room and the streetlamps outside filling the shop just enough that Quinn could make out the older woman’s familiar features. Mimi’s red hair framed her face and offset her bright-green eyes. She’d looked that way as long as Quinn could remember—further proof the older woman resisted change.

Still, Quinn knew there was much to learn from her. Mimi was whip-smart and kind to boot. It made for good business in their small town, especially once tourist season was over. This business depended on the locals, not the passersby.

Mimi reached across the counter for Quinn’s hands. “Do your work. Be good at it. But don’t let it consume you.”

“I won’t,” Quinn said.

“No, really.” Mimi squeezed her hands. “It’s so easy when you run your own business, especially one that means so much to you, to get lost in it all. To forget that there’s more to life than just this place. I worry about you, Quinn. You work here. You live upstairs. You never go anywhere else.”

Quinn pressed her lips together. What was she supposed to say? It was true—by design. Didn’t Mimi understand why she couldn’t leave Harbor Pointe?

“I’ll do better, Mimi,” Quinn said. “I promise.”

“Book a vacation,” Mimi said. “Do it tonight. Come visit Barry and me in Italy this summer.”

Quinn laughed. “I think I might need to start a little smaller than Italy.”

Mimi waved her off. “Go big or go home, sweetheart.”

“I’ll think about it,” Quinn said, knowing it was a lie.

Mimi knew it too, but she didn’t say so. She just studied Quinn for several seconds, then finally let go of her hands and joined her in front of the counter. “I don’t want to see you get your hopes up, Quinn.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been twenty years. I want you to move on. Make this a fresh start—maybe accept the fact that she’s not coming back.”

Quinn knew it was true; why did the words still sting after all these years?

Mimi pulled her into a tight hug, patted her twice on the back, then let her go. “I’m going to be praying for you every single day. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know, Mimi.”

“Ask him to take that pain away, honey.” Mimi’s smile was warm. Maternal. “He’s the only one who can.”

Quinn shook her head. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I promise.”

“Well, that’s no comfort. I’m going to be worrying about you till the day I die.” She stepped away. “That’s what I do.”

“And I’m grateful for it,” Quinn said. “How about instead of worrying, you just send me postcards from all the places you see on your crazy European adventure.”

Mimi giggled. “I will. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t knowwhatwe’re going to see over there—Stella Jones told me they have topless beaches. I sure hope we don’t stumble onto one of those.”

Quinn laughed. “I hope not either. I’d hate to see Barry topless.”

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