Page 6 of The Ties that Bind
“Well, every place we visit should be the right size. I wouldn’t waste our time with anything too big or too small.”
“Of course not, Momma. I meant that the main shop and the back room are the right size.” I opened the other door, the one at the rear right side of the shop. A large green dumpster stood on one side of the outdoor space, and an old wooden fence with a small gate separated it from the road.
“Yeah, I looked back there. There’s not nearly as much space as we have at the Lafayette store, but if we get rid of the dumpster and knock down the fence, there’s room to back a truck up to the door with a little bit to spare.”
“Definitely,” I agreed enthusiastically. Maggie had told me she had chosen the very first dress she had tried on and that she had been nervous she was only choosing it for that reason. I was having a similar kind of “problem” now. This was a pleasant little building with plenty of bright windows, a nice, welcoming appearance from the front and lots of room for creativity. The pottery could go on that wall over there, a large, hanging display could go over here, the window displays would have specific kinds of flower arrangements in them…
I mentioned some of my vision to my mother, and we both stood there looking ridiculous together as we gestured, waved and counted on our fingers to compare notes. “I think we’ve seen enough,” my mother said. “Let’s move on to the next location.”
The next location was in the city of New Orleans proper. I disliked it almost immediately - probably because I was a country boy at heart, and I didn’t like the idea of working in a corner of a strip mall squished between the ground and a skyscraper. The old metaphysical store might have been a little smaller than this place, but it was its own building. I wouldn’t have to fight traffic for the space to unload a truck there.
My mom also wasn’t impressed, but I had a feeling that was more to do with the cost of opening a shop here than anything else. She still had me take pictures, but I doubted we would be following up on this place.
The next location was also in a strip mall but it was the corner shop and on the outskirts of the big city buildings. Here, LaFleur flowers should get plenty of business but also benefit from lesser costs and more outdoor space.
I sent Maggie a picture of the strip mall. When I zoomed in a little, I noticed something in the bottom corner - a small purple wildflower, nestled in a bed of tall, lush grass. It gave me an idea.
“What do you think of this for flower arrangements for the wedding?”I asked Maggie after sending her a picture of that little flower. “Purple, pink and white flowers with some buds to celebrate spring and new beginnings, and a bed of long grass or fern fronds?”
“I love you.”
“Not the answer I was expecting, but I love you too.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Can some of the flowers be lilies?”
“Of course. Some of the Peruvian lilies in the nursery already have bulbs, and they’ll bloom in time for the wedding.”
Just being out of the apartment and breathing fresh air stirred my creativity, and I had lots more ideas for arrangements as I scouted the city with my mother. Each time something new came to mind, I texted Maggie. She loved every single one I mentioned to her, and, in typical Maggie fashion, had a little advice or comment of her own to add.
That was just another thing I loved about Maggie. She didn’t just listen and let me make all the decisions or give me a clearly uninterested “oh, that’s nice.” This was my passion and my livelihood. She knew both of these things. She encouraged my passion while also unabashedly offering her opinions, even though she knew I had been putting together arrangements for years.
She wasn’t bad at it. If she ever decided to hang up her nursing scrubs, this job might suit her.
“Alright.” My mother and I sat down in a booth of a sandwich shop, the notebooks of notes on the table between us. “I say we think while we eat, finish our sandwiches, then say our most preferred location on the count of three.”
“Sure,” I agreed, although I didn’t have much thinking to do. I already knew which location I preferred - although I doubted it would agree with my mother’s choice.
When the last bites of sandwich had been washed down with long sips of tea, my mother began the countdown. “Three, two, one - strip mall.”
“Metaphysical shop,” I said at the same time. Just as I expected.
“Okay.” My mother leaned forward on her elbows. “Why?”
I had already prepared my own list of pros and cons for this question, and I laid all my cards on the table while she listened closely.
“Okay,” she said again. “The metaphysical shop it is. I’ll have the inspector out as soon as possible to get the place checked out.”
“Really?” I cocked my head, feeling one eyebrow inch up my forehead. “You don’t have anything else to say about it?”
“No, I don’t. Marty, this is your store. You’ll be running it. If you believe the metaphysical shop is the best location - and you gave some good reasons - then I trust you.”
My mom leaned forward over the table and gripped my shoulder with the strength years of shoveling and hauling had given her. “This is a family business. You, your brother, your father, me - we share the decisions. Your brother picked the location for the store he owns, and he did a fantastic job. You will too because you’re both the best sons in the world.”
“Gosh, Momma, you can’t get all sentimental on me like that,” I teased lightly because tearing up wasn’t a manly thing to do.
We talked about the new shop for a few minutes, drawing designs on napkins and sharing ideas, then my mom hopped up to refill her tea glass from the dispenser. I took a picture of the paper with the layout and address we had chosen and sent it to Maggie. “Found a place! Just got to have the inspector check it out.”
“First place you visited?”was her reply. “Coincidence?”
