Page 7 of Flirting with Forever

“You could display them over there, with the other pots.” Estrella pointed.

“Never!” The idea was absurd to Mary. “Those pots are nothing compared to yours. No. I want yours prominently displayed, but I was wondering what you thought about me buying some plants to stick into some of them, to give the customer an idea on how to use them practically. I could put one or two in the front window and then the rest... Oh, I’ll have to unpack them and figure it out as I go.”

“Are they in the storeroom?” Estrella asked.

“Mmm-hmm. In the same box you brought them over in.”

“John,” Estrella ordered. “The box has blue painter’s tape on it. Bring it out here, will you?”

Moments later, the women were unpacking Estrella’s pots from the packing material and fussing with their placement around the shop. Kylie returned with a sack of tacos in one hand, adeptly realized that they were not taking a lunch break and took over dealing with any customers that came in while Mary and Estrella finished setting up the displays.

John dutifully followed his mother’s directions on where to put this and that, though he said next to nothing and scowled coldly the entire time. When half an hour had passed, and the task was over, he stood at the far wall, his hands in his pockets, looking like he’d gladly walk through the gateway to Lucifer’s private torture chamber if it meant getting the hell out of here.

Some of the friendly glow Mary had started to feel in the wake of his apology faded. Did he have to be so unpleasant? He was like a sinkhole for good feeling.

“Are you working next Saturday?” Estrella asked Mary.

“Hmm? Oh. Always.”

“Not in the afternoon, though,” Kylie called. “Right? I thought I was overlapping with Caleb next Saturday.”

“Oh. Right. I should be out of here around two o’clock if you wanted to come by earlier than that, Estrella. Will you be bringing more of your work or is it a social call?”

“Neither,” Estrella said, giving her a mischievous grin.

“Ma.” John’s tone was part warning, part admonishment, his voice gravelly from not having spoken in so long. He seemed to know exactly what his mother was up to and didn’t appear to approve one bit.

Estrella ignored him. “My block has a party this time in June every year. You should come. There’s plenty of our neighbors there you could meet.”

“Oh.” Mary loved parties, she always had. Especially outdoor ones in the summer.

“She doesn’t want to come to the block party, Ma,” John groused. That aggressive V between his brows was back.

Well, if Mary hadn’t wanted to go to the party, she certainly did now, if not just to prove Frowny McIceberg wrong. “Sounds fun. Is it a potluck? Should I bring anything?”

“Maybe a cake?” Estrella leaned in, ostensibly to cut John out of the conversation. “And dress up a little. There’s a few nice boys there that I’d like for you to meet.”

Mary held her smile in place, because she loved Estrella so dearly. But she was simply mortified to have the topic of dating brought up in front of John. Apparently the universe felt that Married James hadn’t been punishment enough. “You got it,” Mary said with a wink she hoped covered her true feelings on the matter. “I could be there around three thirty?”

“Perfect.” Estrella stopped just long enough to kiss Kylie on the cheek. “Goodbye, my loves.” She waved at both of them, grabbed John by the elbow again and tugged him out of the shop.

“Bye!” Mary called, shaking her head when she realized that John didn’t even look back as he left the shop. He certainly didn’t say goodbye.

CHAPTER THREE

MARYFOLLOWEDESTRELLA’Sdirections and dressed up for the block party. It was a perfect June day, warm in the sun, cool in the shade, with just enough of a breeze to keep the sweat from sticking. Mary wore a cap-sleeve floaty blue dress with yellow suns stitched onto the hem and her favorite pair of high-heeled boots. Once Caleb arrived at her shop to relieve her, she ducked into the back room and dabbed on some pink lipstick and a little mascara. Her hair had been a bit bashful that morning, so she’d straightened it and let it fall down her back.

Estrella had promised there’d be some cuties at the party and the thought made Mary’s stomach flip. She liked cuties. She liked flirting. She liked men. She liked parties. Yeehaw.

She stopped at a bakery three blocks down and picked up a cake, then emerged from the train twenty minutes later in Estrella’s neighborhood. As well as they knew one another, Mary had never been to Estrella’s house before. She lived on a cute little block of Crown Heights, too far east to have been completely overrun by gentrifiers as of yet. The huge green oak trees touched hands where they loomed over the street, and one corner sported a Japanese cherry blossom tree, a few weeks past its May explosion of color but still gorgeous.

Estrella’s block was cordoned off with blue wooden sawhorses warning cars away but inviting anyone who wanted to party. There were about a hundred more people there than Mary had expected. One end of the block was inundated with children, all vying for a turn on the ten-foot-wide trampoline that had been dragged outside. The other end of the block was muzzy with barbecue smoke. In the middle sat four tables pushed together with mountains of food. Mary slipped her cake onto the dessert table and immediately lost track of which one she’d brought.

“Mary!” And then there was Estrella, beaming up at Mary and grabbing her by both hands. “You’re a vision. Come. You can stow your purse at my place.”

Estrella, practically dragging Mary down the block, led her up a stoop onto the garden level of a blond brick town house, a little shabby but in a friendly way. Estrella kept a scattered assortment of flowers in a window box under one window, and a snow shovel, never put away from the wintertime, leaned up against the mailboxes in the front vestibule. Estrella’s apartment was dim from a lack of natural light, but somehow still cheery. Colorful paintings and photographs covered all the walls, and a long, horrible rug led down the front hallway, instantly charming Mary. The kitchen was as snug as the bedrooms they passed, but it had flowers in the window and rice in colorful glass jars.

“I love your space,” Mary said, and meant it.

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