Page 39 of Finders Keepers

I notice his hands trembling slightly as he adjusts the arrangement. “These are absolutely perfect.” He smiles and then looks up at me, “Would you like some tea, dear? It’s awful weather to be out delivering flowers.”

“That’s very kind,” I say, checking my watch. Mary Beth won’t mind if I take a few extra minutes, especially on a day like today. “I’d love some tea.”

Mr. Locke shuffles to the kitchen, and I follow, taking in the cheerful yellow walls and the collection of teacups displayed in a corner cabinet. He moves slowly but purposefully, filling an electric kettle and pulling out a tin of Earl Grey.

“My wife was English you see,” he explains, measuring out the loose tea. “She taught me proper tea can cure almost anything, even a broken heart.” He pauses, a trembling smile playing at his lips. “Though I’m not sure she was entirely right about that last part.”

We sit at his small kitchen table, the rain creating a cozy backdrop to our conversation. He tells me about meeting his late wife in London during his time in the military, their whirlwind romance, and their life together here in this very house. I listen intently knowing that it’s what he needs right now.

“It does my heart good to meet young people like you,” he says, patting my hand. “Reminds me that there’s still kindness in the world.”

I pause at the connection, but his demeanor reminds me I’m okay. I give him a warm smile in return.

When I finally stand to leave, the rain is still steadily pouring, and he walks me to the front door and grabs a black umbrella from a coat rack hook and hands it to me.

“Here you go.” He takes my hand and places it on the wood handle.

“Oh, Mr. Locke, thank you but I’m okay, really.”

“Sweet girl, my Laura would have my head if I let you walk out in this rain without it,” he says with a gentle and insistent tone. “She always said an umbrella was like a helping hand, you should never hesitate to offer either.”

I can see there’s no arguing with him, so I accept the umbrella gratefully, stepping out onto his covered front porch and I open the black umbrella, its fabric stretching taut against the metal ribs. I can’t help but return a smile at his kindness.

“Thank you for the tea,” I say, “and for sharing your stories about your wife.”

“Thank you for listening, dear. Sometimes an old man just needs someone to talk to.” He looks at the flowers one more time. “Please tell Mary Beth she outdid herself. These are exactly what I needed today.”

As I walk back to the van, I find myself blinking back tears. This moment, this unexpected connection, this made every delivery today worth it. I make a mental note to tell Mary Beth about Mr. Locke’s reaction to the arrangement, knowing it will make her day as much as it made mine.

Starting the van, I take one last look at the house. He stands at the window, adjusting the flowers, and I wave before pulling away.

I’m halfway back to the shop and the rain has picked up quite a bit and the wipers automatically pick up speed. I’m stopped at a red light when my phone rings through the van’s Bluetooth. Assuming it’s Ms. Lucy, I press the button on the steering wheel to answer the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

Nothing but silence greets me. The sound of rain against the windshield suddenly seems too loud.

“Hello?” I try again, my voice smaller this time.

The line goes dead with a click that seems to echo in the small space. My hands tremble slightly as I pick up my phone to check the call log. Unknown number. My heart rate slowly returns to normal as I reason it out, probably just another spam call. Telemarketers are relentless.

Still, something about the silence…

I shake my head, pushing away the creeping anxiety. I’m being silly. It’s just a wrong number or a robocall that glitched because of the weather. Nothing more, I tell myself, clinging to the logic even if it doesn’t fully settle the nerves curling in my stomach.

The light turns green. My instincts are still screaming at me to call Emma or Lisa. I need to know if Matt’s shown his face again. My fingers drum anxiously against the steering wheel as I try to calm my nerves. They’ve both been through enough already after the last time he confronted them, and I hate the idea of reopening that wound. Still, I can’t shake the feeling, something isn’t right.

I head back toward the shop, trying to focus on the next few hours. Mary Beth will be there with her cheerful smile and endless knowledge about flowers. Maybe she’ll show me a new arrangement technique while we prep tomorrow’s orders.

But the thought doesn’t bring the usual comfort. The knot in my stomach stays tight, and even as I pull into the parking lot, that uneasy whisper in the back of my mind refuses to go quiet.

Iknock on Ms. Lucy’s front door, adjusting my purse on my shoulder. When the door swings open, my heart nearly stops, instead of Ms. Lucy’s familiar warm smile greeting me, I find myself staring up into Gavin’s amber eyes.

I blink rapidly, confusion washing over me. “Gavin? What are you…I mean, hi.”

“Hey there, Bailey.” He leans against the doorframe, casual and confident.

I mentally scold myself. Stop it, Bailey. You’re not here to admire him. You’re here for Sophie.

---