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Blakely
Six years later
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“Yes, Mom. I know.” I sigh into the phone as my mother runs through the delivery instructions with me for the hundredth time. “I thought the point of you taking a step back was so that you would be less stressed, not more,” I point out, tying a blue ribbon around the white carnation bouquet that Mrs. Thomas ordered for her daughter’s baby shower.
Florence’s Flower Shop has been in my family for generations, started by my great grandmother, Florence, in the early 1900s. She passed it on to my grandmother, who in turn passed it on to my mother, who is now passing it on to me. I’ve always known that one day the shop would belong to me, although I have to admit, I thought I’d be a little older than twenty-three when my mom decided to retire.
After battling with some health issues over the last couple of years, my mom finally decided it was time to take a step back and start distressing her life. Unfortunately, she hasn’t done much distressing, but instead obsessing over every little move I make. Sometimes I think she forgets she’s been grooming me to run this business pretty much my entire life. Not only did I spend nearly every afternoon here after school when I was younger, but I’ve also worked here full time since I graduated high school five years ago.
I had considered college briefly, but decided against wasting the money. What’s the point of college when you already know what you’re going to do for the rest of your life? Some people might feel tied down or resentful of having their future decided for them, but not me. I love the flower shop and have always known this was what I wanted to do.
“I’m not stressed.” My mom pulls me back into the conversation. “But this is your first time doing the summer festival on your own. I want to make sure you can handle it.”
“I’ve got this, Mom,” I reassure her. “Or do you forget the countless times I’ve assisted you with this over the years?”
“I know. It’s just I’m worried you’re not going to be able to keep up with the demand.”
“Does Dad know you’re calling me?” I divert, leaning my back against the counter at the front of the store.
“What does that matter?” she clips.
“Because you promised him you would trust me. This doesn’t feel like trust.”
“I do trust you,” she argues.
“Then act like it.” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “You taught me well, Mom. I promise you, I’ve got this.”
“You’re right.” She lets out a slow breath. “It’s just hard letting go of something that’s been such a huge part of my life for so long. I feel like I’m going insane inside this house.”
“Then why don’t you go out and work in your garden for a while? Or better yet, have Dad take you out for a nice dinner?”
“I guess I could do that,” she agrees quietly.
“There, see. You just need to find ways to keep yourself busy. Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do and you calling every five minutes is not helping matters.”
“Okay. Just promise you’ll call if you have any questions.”
“I promise. You’ll be the first person I call if I need anything.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I end the call right as I step into the small office located on the other side of the wall from the main counter.
I drop my phone onto the desk before plopping down into the old swivel chair, my eyes sweeping to the small cluster of framed pictures my mom keeps next to the computer monitor.
Most of them are of our family. Of me and my mom sorting flowers, me and my dad eating ice cream out back on the old picnic table, and a couple formal family photos we had taken when I was younger.
I look away before I reach the one picture I can’t bear to look at. I know it’s there. I’ve seen it countless times before. But every time I see it, every time I see him, even in a photo, I feel like I’m transported back six years and that is the absolute last place I want to be.
I lean back in the chair, letting my eyes drift to the picture even though I tell myself not to. Why I haven’t removed it is beyond me. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
The instant his lopsided smile comes into view my chest tightens.
Asher...
I lean forward and snag the frame off the desk, holding it closer to my face. I remember this day like it was yesterday. It was my Junior Prom. Asher looks so handsome in his black suit and red tie, his arm snaked around my waist. The red of his tie the same shade as my sleeveless dress.
This picture was taken a couple of months before he left. Back when I still believed that we’d be together forever. I shake my head, my gaze dropping to the large diamond ring on my left hand.
“Hey, babe.” I jump, looking up to see Tyler standing in the doorway of the office, a brown paper bag balanced in one arm.
“Hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry, I parked out back and used my key. It’s really coming down out there,” he says, and only then do I notice the wet spots that pepper his gray button down. “Whatcha got there?” He gestures to the picture frame in my hand.
“Oh nothing.” I shake my head. Pulling open the top drawer of the desk, I drop the picture of Asher and me inside and quickly slide it shut. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working late tonight.”
Tyler runs a non-profit based out of Huntington, about forty-five minutes west of Tomlin. They raise money for under privileged children; to help provide them with clothes, food, and proper medical care. He oversees all the fundraising and events. I barely see him the week leading up to an event because he’s always so busy, which is the main reason why I’m so surprised to find him here this evening.
“I was going to, but then I decided it could wait. I’d much rather have dinner with my girl.” He grins, sliding into the room. “I brought your favorite.”
“A burger and peach pie from Hal’s?” My stomach grumbles at the thought.
“I know you’ve had a lot on your plate the last few days, so I went a little further and got you onion rings too.” He chuckles, dropping the bag on top of the desk before beginning to empty out the contents.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I ask, smiling when his chocolate eyes come to mine.
“And I love you.” He leans across the small desk, dropping a light kiss to my mouth before depositing a huge cheeseburger wrapped in foil in front of me.
Tyler is not someone I ever saw coming. After Asher, I didn’t want to let someone else in again, but little by little Tyler started to break down my walls. He pursued me relentlessly for months before I agreed to go on a date with him. And it’s that persistence that eventually won him my heart.
He proposed on our two year anniversary and we are scheduled to be married at the beginning of August, six weeks from this Saturday. I didn’t see myself falling in love, and I sure as hell didn’t see myself agreeing to marry someone, but Tyler has changed my mind about a lot of things. Deep down I know that I’m where I am today because of him.
When he came along I was a shell of who I used to be. Losing Asher did something to me. It’s like I’d lost a piece of myself, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get it back.
I kept waiting around like Asher was going to suddenly appear out of the blue and my world would make sense again. The day I realized that he was never coming back was probably the lowest day of my life. It had been almost three years since he’d left. He never once called or texted like he’d promised. If it weren’t for his cousin, Charlie, I would have thought that something had happened to him. She called me a week after he left to tell me that he’d arrived in California. She didn’t say how long he was staying there, only that he’d made it safely. But I never heard any of this from him. It’s like he got on that train and that was it. He left me and every part of our life together behind. Admitting to myself that it was actually over was the hardest and yet best thing I could have done. It gave me a little piece of closure. Well, as much as I’ll ever get.
“So, Derek wanted to confirm you’ll be at the fundraiser next weekend. I guess Sarah has only agreed to come if you’ll be there.” Tyler settles back into the chair on the other side of the desk and peels the foil away from his sandwich.
I take a moment and look at him. Tall and lean, clean shaven, with brown eyes and short, neatly styled light brown hair. Tyler is so much different than Asher, which is one of the reasons I love him. With his nice suits and polo shirts, there’s not an ounce of country to him, even though he only grew up one town over. He’s polite and proper and oozes big city. Even though the biggest city he’s ever lived in is Huntington, which really isn’t that big. But he’s also sweet and charming and has a way of making me feel like I’m the most important person in the room, no matter where we are.
“I should be able to make it work. Once the festival is over this weekend I’ll be able to breathe again.” I sigh, grabbing an onion ring out of the bag before tearing off a piece and popping it into my mouth. “Dad’s bringing the trailer over tomorrow so I can start putting together the float for the parade.”
“Is your mom still breathing down your neck?” he asks, knowingly.
“I swear she’s more stressed now that I’m running things than she was when she was doing it herself.”
“Give her time. It’s only been a few weeks. She’s as worried about you as she is the shop.”
“Because she thinks I’m too young?” I question, knowing the plan was to pass the shop over to me closer to thirty-five rather than twenty-three.
“Because she loves you and doesn’t want to dump too much on you before you’re ready,” he corrects.
Even though Tyler is only four years older than me, sometimes the way he talks to me makes me feel much younger. Not because he does it in a condescending way, but because he’s so rational and calm. Whereas, most days, I feel seconds away from flying off the deep end.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to take over if I wasn’t ready.”
“I know that, babe. And so does she. Just give her some time.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t be so hard on her.” I reach for the can of Diet Coke on my desk, popping open the top before taking a long drink.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re handling everything beautifully. You really are quite the determined woman, Miss Harris.” He grins before taking a bite of his sandwich.
I follow suit, picking up my burger before taking a big bite, practically moaning the instant the juicy goodness hits my tongue. I rarely ever eat fried foods, but when I get stressed or upset about something, I have no problem indulging. And right now is definitely one of those times. Of course I’ll have to run twice as long on my morning jog tomorrow to burn off the calories, but it’s totally worth it in the moment.
Tyler and I make small talk while we finish our food, and by the time he packs up and kisses me goodbye nearly a half an hour later, I feel a million times better than I did when he walked in.
Knowing I need to get my orders finalized before it gets too late, I tell him I’ll see him at home later before closing up shop, and heading back into the office.
Sliding down into the chair, I slowly pull open the desk drawer and take out the photo I shoved in there when Tyler arrived. Flipping it over in my hands, my stomach knots when my eyes land on Asher’s face again. A face I still remember every single detail of. A face I still see in my dreams some nights. A face I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
I run my finger along the side of the picture and close my eyes. If I focus hard enough I can still hear the sound of his voice. I can still remember his touch. How it felt when he kissed me. I remember every single detail. And that is my curse. Because I don’t want to remember. Remembering hurts. Remembering reminds me of what I lost. What I’ve struggled for years to get over.
I open my eyes and give myself one more long moment to study the picture before leaning to the side and dropping it into the trashcan, where I should have put it a long time ago. I don’t know why I’ve continued to torture myself with memories of Asher. It’s like even after all this time a part of me is still holding on. But that has to stop now. In just six short weeks I will become Mrs. Davenport and my future will be with Tyler. Asher is my past. It’s about time I left him there for good.
