Page 9 of Bloom and Burn
I place my fork and knife on my now empty plate and lace my hands behind my head. “The only thing that might cause an issue is the flower shop’s history. It’s been there for a long time, so I wonder if the location holds any sentimental value.”
Emily nods, stacking the dirty plates together. “I agree. However, the building was expanded and modernized a couple of years ago. It isn’t listed as a historical site or anything, so it’s not protected.”
I think it over for a few moments, reaching the conclusion that we could still run into a wall even if the building itself is not the cause. All Ryan needs to do is decide he wants to make my life miserable… “Well, I’m rich and flexible. We can pay ten-twenty percent above the market value if we have to.”
From a business perspective, this is not a good tactic, so it’s perfect that I don’t give a shit. If I can throw money at my problems to resolve them, I do it, especially if those dollars could make someone else’s life easier. I can only spend so much on myself anyway. The more… worrisome reason for my loose wallet is the fact that the flower shop building and the land it sits on is the only suitable plot we can use to construct the research facility. Every other option was too small or too residential.
Now, we might have rushed a bit moving here before we had that ownership aspect sorted. But Emily really sounded like she needed a break from the big city, and I’m horrible at saying no to her. If worse comes to worse and we can’t close the deal, we’ll end up with a renovated house and a couple of weeks away from the busy life of Portland. It’s not the end of the world, though I do hope Emily doesn’t get too attached to the place in case we needto move the facility somewhere beyond the commutable radius of Estacada.
“That sounds reasonable. I’m sure no one is stupid enough to turn down that kind of money.”
Her approval lifts some of my worries. We clear the table, which I wipe down while she puts away the dirty cutlery and plates. Like we’ve done with a lot of areas around the house, we have adjusted the kitchen so my sister can easily use it, though there are still a couple of outstanding things.
I prop my hip against the breakfast counter situated along the bit of wall we are yet to knock down, and throw a quick glance her way to make sure she doesn’t need help. “I’ll go for a jog before I head out.”
“Okay!” She scrunches her nose as her eyes dart left and right of me. “And that wall needs to go next. It will really open up the first floor.”
I see we are on the same page. I’ve always loved that.
I linger for a few more minutes, watching her scurry around. She gets the dishwasher running, though the big bowl we used for the popcorn isn’t inside. I spot it in the sink. The water basin is one of those outstanding things we need to adjust, because the cupboards beneath it make it awkward for Emily to use. Still, she doesn’t complain even if it looks like she’s having some difficulties finding a comfortable position.
Dejection slithers through me. Should I offer help? I just want to make it easier for her, but she’s also doing just fine on her own too, even if it looks a little clumsy. If she needed me to step in, she’s ask, so I leave her to it and walk over to the shoe rack while making a mental note to prioritize the kitchen adjustments.
Despite the crispy air outside, regret sits heavy in my stomach. Emily is one of the strongest people I know, but she also has this habit of putting up a front even if she’s struggling. Everyday things that are effortless for me can be a challenge to her, but she never complains or shows that she’s sad.
And it’s all my fault.
I grunt through the guilt and break into a sprint, needing the strain of physical exertion so I don’t spiral down. I neglected her so I could hang out with my peers, and that decision haunts me every day of my life. I took away her legs and her dreams because I delegated my responsibility as her brother to somebody else.
I push myself to my limit, gritting teeth as I race with the wind uphill toward the old hunting cabin in the woods. I messed up, it’s my fault. But I’m so close now to making it better. To giving her a chance to dream again. I just need that land and the mayor’s approval so I can build the research facility that could change Emily’s life.
An hour later, I park my SUV in front of the café. The pickup isn’t here yet, which means Ryan hasn’t opened the flower shop yet either. The bitter scent of coffee graces my nostrils just then, so I decide it’s a good thing since I haven’t gotten my dose of caffeine. Plus, it hasn’t even passed eight a.m., which is entirely too early for a flower shop to start its day.
After I grab my drink of choice, I request to speak with the owner and am told to sit down at a table and wait.
“Jack?” a tall, wide and blond dude says, grinning my way just as I was about to appreciate the paintings that hang on the walls. According to the plaques, they weredone by students from the two high schools in town. “You are Jack Keller, right?”
I squint, trying to place his face. I definitely know him, but I’ve no idea who he actually is. Not the café owner, that’s for sure. It’s obvious by the bulky muscles stretching his tank top that he frequents the gym, but I don’t currently know anyone who works out this much. Unless we count Brady, my best friend Alistair’s best friend, but he has no business being here.
“Uh, hi?”
He pats me on the shoulder with his massive hand. “Oh shit, it really is you. It’s me, Greg. Rugby team. We were best friends in high school.”
Greg from rugby… I catalogue him from head to toe again. It’s not until I spy the tiger tattoo on his arm that it clicks who this guy is. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “It’s been ages, man! What are you doing in Estacada?” He sounds genuinely curious.
I look at him with new eyes. Obviously we’ve all changed since those days, grown more into our bodies and personalities. But the similarities are there now that I know to look for them, like the cowlick in his mop of curls, the square jaw and the impish smile that used to have girls dropping their panties left and right. Judging by the bad boy vibes he’s giving off, I bet they are still doing that.
“Em and I are sort of moving back.”
The memories rush back to me. I used to admire the dude and his circle of friends, wanting to be as cool as they were. I even hung out with them after they finally accepted me despite my modest background at the time. It was the highlight of school life for me, especially with how Greg and his best buddy, Ben, took me under their wing. For a time, I even turned a blind eye to the way theywere bullying the other students, pretending it was not my problem even if I was friends with them. And then Emily’s accident happened, and we moved and it didn’t matter anymore that I never confronted them about it.
Greg’s grin falters at the mention of my sister’s name. Oh, right. He knows about the car crash, because it was his bowling party that I prioritized over driving her to dance class. He was there when I got the call.
“How’s she doing? Okay, I hope? No one in town really knows what’s up with you two since you moved all those years ago.”
And we like it that way, I think. Especially now that JE Pharmaceuticals is big and always under the scope of the media. It was such a smart move to make Timothy the official face of the company so that neither of us has to deal with the cameras and journalists. Running things from behind the scenes is so much better.
