Page 55 of Love in Bloom

“Should be,” Miller said.

Wren knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help herself. Miller had said “should be” when Gus has asked him about partnership and she’d seen him shrug his shoulders like he wasn’t sure. He’d never expressed doubt before about making his goal. If he didn’t make his goal, Wren knew she would be the reason. Making partner, making something of himself, and proving to the people of Haven he wouldn’t be the next town drunk was vital to Miller.

Diane had made it very clear to Wren that Michelle was Miller’s path to partnership. After her trip to Indiana, Miller had told her about the picnic. It didn’t do her heart any good to hear Miller admit she might be right that Diane wanted Miller and Michelle to be a couple.

Wren wished for the umpteenth time that she was a different person. More confident. More secure. More selfless. She knew the situation between her and Miller was completely different than it had been for her and Michael, but she couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk losing herself again, turning into a person she didn’t like or respect. If she was selfless, she’d let Miller go. She’d set him free. But she couldn’t.

“Problems?” Croix asked.

“No, not problems, just some weirdness,” Miller said. Gus gave him what looked like a reassuring pat on the shoulder and Croix stubbed out a spark with his boot. The men fell silent. Sharing time was done.

Wren wandered away from the shadows and into the kitchen. Mrs. Hart stood in front of the sink. Wren joined her. From here, they had a clear view of the fire pit and the lengthening shadows. “It’s so nice seeing the boys settled.” Mrs. Hart sighed and folded the dish towel near her. “They all seem happy in their careers, and now Jackson’s getting married.” She moved to the large kitchen table to get the dessert trays ready.

“You must be very happy,” Wren commented as she helped Mrs. Hart load the trays.

“I am. I just adore Emily. She’s perfect for Jackson. I’m grateful he finally came to his senses. There’s only so much matchmaking a person can do, you know.” Wren smiled and nodded. “And the Swanson women are certainly charmed by Miller. Something must be happening with him, because I’ve never seen him so happy.” She paused and looked at Wren like she was fishing for information. Wren held her tongue and didn’t bite.

Mrs. Hart went to the sideboard and turned on the coffee maker. “Decaf, so it shouldn’t bother anyone too much. And dessert tastes so much better with coffee, don’t you agree?” Mrs. Hart asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wren said. “Unless there’s champagne.”

The older woman chuckled. “We’ll have champagne when the rest of the boys are matched. Goodness, but they’re going to be a challenge.” Mrs. Hart put the sugar bowl and cream pitcher on a tray. “Parker doesn’t stay in Haven long enough, Croix is more comfortable with numbers than people, and Eric, well, between you and me, he can be a schmuck. Poor boy didn’t stand a chance though with Greg Ball as his father.”

Wren silently agreed with Mrs. Hart on her assessment of Greg’s character as she remembered his behavior toward her at the AAS anniversary dinner, but she didn’t know Eric well enough to pass judgment.

“Yes, it’s certainly nice to see them on course. Miller’s probably counting down the days until he’s offered partnership at AAS.”

“You certainly know Jackson’s friends well,” Wren said.

“Jackson spent his summers here with us. Miller’s mother cleaned house for me and I had her bring Miller and JD along with her that first summer. Those three boys became fast friends. Jackson soon knew all of Miller’s friends, too. The bonds were further cemented when the boys were a little bit older and started to work for Hart Hotel in the summer.” She paused and surveyed the dessert trays. “Between here and the hotel, I got to know the boys very well.” The coffee maker hissed out its last remaining drops. Mrs. Hart put the coffee carafe on the tray with the cream and sugar.

“If you’re set, I’ll carry things out.” Wren reached for the nearest tray without waiting for Mrs. Hart’s go-ahead. She didn’t want to hear any more about Miller The Boy because it might lead to questions and observations about Miller The Man.

It wasn’t just Miller who expected partnership, it was his friends, too. They were counting on him. And she was counting on him, too. He’d set partnership as his goal and he’d gone after it. He believed in himself and in his abilities. If Miller could reach his dream, then so could she. She would be an independent, successful business owner with a side-hustle she loved, oil painting. And, if she was really lucky, she’d eventually have a manager for Wallflowers so she could paint full time.

But he wouldn’t reach his goal if he stayed with her. She’d have to find the strength to be selfless and break things off with him. As long as Diane thought they were a couple, Miller didn’t have a chance of partnership. And it wasn’t like she and Miller had a future together. She’d made it very clear she would never, ever, be a partner’s wife again.

Miller knew all of this, so he shouldn’t be surprised or hurt when she ended things.It would be nice if he waited a while before he dated Michelle, but I won’t blame him if he jumps right in, she thought and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to stop the threatening tears. Michelle was the perfect complement for Miller. Plus, they made a beautiful couple with his dark good looks and her blond, curvy, girl-next-door cuteness. And everyone knew that beautiful people made beautiful babies. Wren shook her head to stop the image of Miller having babies with anyone but her.

She tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in her throat. Yes, the sooner she broke things off with Miller the better. Not tonight, though. Tonight, she would enjoy herself. She’d laugh with her friends. Discuss the upcoming wedding. Eat too many desserts. And maybe, if her heart was strong enough, she’d go home with Miller. One last time.

July

Wrenwasaloneinthe shop as she sorted through the mail. It was always hard to get going the day after a holiday when there wasn’t anything to do. As she sorted, she contemplated switching the canvas size she usually painted on. Her usual canvas size needed an easel which would take up too much space in the shop. But if she used a smaller canvas, she could paint when it was slow. It would be a hassle to set it down to answer the phone or help a walk-in customer, but the hassle might be worth it.

Finally. Wren gave a sigh of relief as she came to a thick envelope from Ball Realty. She’d called Greg Ball several times to set up an appointment to renew her lease, but he’d never returned her phone calls. When she’d called again last week, she’d spoken with Eric Ball and not the receptionist.Looks like Eric came through. She ripped open the envelope and scanned the cover letter. She got to the end and reread it from the beginning slowly. It wasn’t a lease, it was an eviction notice! She had to vacate the building, including her apartment, within sixty days. September 5.I can still do Emily’s wedding flowers,was her first thought as her world fell apart.

She walked to the front door, locked it, and switched the sign toClosed. She climbed the stairs to her apartment and boiled water for tea. Once the numbness subsided, she would have a lot of thinking to do. She texted Miller, canceling their plans for the evening. Wren claimed a migraine. A small lie, but she didn’t feel guilty. She didn’t have a migraine now, but she would later. If all the planning didn’t cause one, the crying would.

Stay focused, she reminded herself whenever panic crept in. According to the local newspaper and various websites, there wasn’t a lot of space for rent in the downtown area, and what was available was too large or out of her price range. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She needed a relator’s help, but she wanted to keep this quiet. Her only option was to call Eric. He worked for his dad so he’d already know about the eviction, and hopefully her instincts were right and he wasn’t a sleazeball like his dad.

After they’d exchanged pleasantries, Wren got down to business. She explained what she needed in a new space and wondered if Eric could help her as a friend and not say anything about this to anyone. It took Eric a few minutes to understand what she was saying. He hadn’t known about the eviction. From his stuttering, it sounded like he went from stunned to mad to ashamed. Once he’d recovered, he promised to keep his eyes and ears open for locations, but he told her that right now the downtown market was tight. She’d have better luck looking out by the mall or the highway. Wren rubbed her forehead and thanked Eric for his time and help. She ended the call and went in search of some ibuprofen. She’d hoped Eric would be like a knight in shining armor astride a white stallion, determined to rescue her. Instead, he was more like a common man on a dappled pony giving her instructions.

Her shoulders slumped and she rubbed a hand over her queasy stomach. It looked like she might be out of business temporarily.What’s my Plan B?She reviewed the calendar. Other than her contract to service the Hart Hotel, there were eight weddings scheduled in the fall. Five of them had already paid down payments and three hadn’t. She made a note to follow up with the three brides next week to see if they’d made a decision. Hopefully, they’d decided to use another florist and just hadn’t told her. She’d rather they cancel the order than have to do it herself.

The other five she might be able to do, but she’d need to check with Barb’s Buds and see if they could come to an agreement, like subletting a cooler and some space for supplies. She had a good working relationship with them since they served different areas of the Haven community. Plus, work would still be slow, so Barb might welcome the additional income. Wren crossed her fingers.I’ll be a freelance florist until I find a new location.I have money saved, I can do this.Wren repeatedI can do thisuntil her breathing slowed.

She rearranged the order of her growing to-do list. Thirty minutes later Wren re-focused on the sheet and realized it didn’t matter whether it was Plan A or Plan B, everything flowed back to Barb.

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