Page 1 of A Future in Blossom

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I am in awe of flowers. Not because of their colors, but because even though they have dirt in their roots, they still grow. They still bloom.

—D. Antoinette Foy

TESSA ANDERSON

If only memories could get sent to the dumpster as easily as debris could. Tessa watched the bulldozer remove the last remains of the foreclosed-on house she’d bought in Sunrise, North Carolina, and wished it could carry away all the reckless moments stuck in her mind too. Those were harder to get rid of.

Dawson Greene, her soil expert guy, liked to remind her of the concept of composting. “It takes garbage and transforms it into something valuable and enriching to the earth.” He said it often, with confidence, and he was right. About soil, about life. Tessa took a deep breath and smiled as the bucket of the bulldozer emptied the last debris from the house into the dumpster. Gone. Gone at last. Finally, she could move forward.

In just two months, Tessa had done the impossible. She’d soldMountain Blooms Farm, her flower farm in Asheville, to a developer who planned to build high-density housing on it. She’d purchased this foreclosed property, rented an old Airstream trailer so she could live on the land, filed permits, and hired a demolition team to tear down and remove the old structure.

A lot had been happening in the last few months, but some things had yet to happen. Important things, like paying a visit to Rose Reid, the owner of the flower shop in Sunrise where Tessa had worked during high school. Seeking out her friends Jaime Harper and Claire Murphy. Or facing Chris Reid, to whom she owed so much.

Tessa dreaded those important things.

Dreaded them ... but she was also in Sunrise because of them. Rose had sent her a letter to ask her if she would consider running the flower shop, but that’s not why Tessa returned. No thank you, ma’am. She had zero interest in running a retail shop. She wanted to be outdoors, in the fields growing flowers, all the time.

In the letter, Rose had said all was forgiven. That was what Tessa couldn’t ignore. That was what brought her back. There was no way that Rose could forgive her without knowing the whole story. Seven years ago, Tessa had left Sunrise full of shame, holding tightly to it, because shame craved secrecy.

But it was time to clean up her mess. She’d run out of excuses.

She heard Dawson call her name and turned to see him approaching.

“I’m not happy about this.” Dawson had been walking the property, bothered about the compacted soil created by the demolition team.

She had to smile. Dawson took his work very seriously. She watched him for a while, noticing how his hair and beard were growing back after his annual trim. He was looking scruffy again, which was just the way she liked him. “We knew there’d be some fallout damage, Dawson. There’s no way a whole house could be removed without help from large equipment.” Everything exceptthe foundation, which would require a separate team to jackhammer and haul away the broken-up concrete.

Hands on his hips, he turned in a circle, frowning. She knew what he was thinking. Was the ground too hard for plowing? Was there time to plant a cover crop? “Tessa, instead of digging up this concrete slab, what would you think of putting a greenhouse on it?”

What? That came out of the blue. “A greenhouse?” It would be a huge greenhouse. The remaining foundation was a rectangle.

“You’ve been talking about it from the start. And this way we could grow more varieties. The greenhouse would make that possible.”

She walked out to where he was standing. “You mean, you want us to grow a variety of flowers? The idea I first had for Mountain Blooms Farm before you shot it down?”

“That was one acre of land. This is three acres. I think this land could support varieties.” He scratched his forehead. “Even if we had a clean slate, I think this is where you’d want a greenhouse to be. Full sun, east-to-west orientation, level, good drainage, close to a water source. And it creates a wind block for the south acre.”

“You’re actually trying to convincemeof buying a greenhouse?” It was true that Tessa had always wanted one. Longed for it, the way some people longed for a luxury car. The benefits would be enormous. But she’d had a small shed-sized one in mind. He was talking about a commercial greenhouse. Huge. Expensive.

“I got a call from a grass-supplier buddy over in Asheville. He ordered the wrong size greenhouse and can’t return it. Still flat packed. It’s a steal of a deal. He even said he’d deliver it here.”

“How much?”

He looked away. “Still negotiating that.”

“Any chance you’ve done a favor for this grass-supplier buddy?”

A sheepish look came into Dawson’s eyes. “He’s a really good guy.”

Tessa smiled. Dawson’s life was all about favors. Mostly, hegave them. Now and then, he received them. It was his preferred approach to life—barters and favors rather than consumerism and taxes.

“I think we should get it.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ll give him a call and get the ball rolling.”

“But, Dawson ... aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? We don’t even have a name for the flower farm yet.”

“You’re the one with the imagination.” He pointed to the far corner of the lot. “Think about it. Acid lovers over there, near the pines.”

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