Page 54 of Finders Keepers

“Some men know how to respect boundaries, honey.”

I stare into my tea, watching ripples form as my hand trembles slightly. “I felt calm. Not quite safe, but…” I search for the right words. “Like maybe I could be, someday.”

The realization sits strange in my chest. After years of walking on eggshells, of flinching at sudden movements, of apologizing for existing. This feeling is foreign, like I might be worthy of soft things again.

“I keep waiting for him to criticize me or get frustrated,” I confess. “But he didn’t.”

She reaches across the table then and pats my hand. “Not all men are like Matt, Bailey. Some are worth taking a chance on.”

Icarefully tuck the last spray of baby’s breath into the small mason jar arrangement, making sure the small bouquet is perfectly balanced, each delicate white flower complementing the pink carnations and purple statice. The gentle afternoon sunlight streams through the flower shops front windows, casting a warm glow on the workspace where I’m creating the shop’s newest, most popular item, our grab-and-go bouquets. Every few minutes, I glance toward the back office where Sophie is contentedly coloring at Mary Beth’s desk, her little legs swinging beneath the chair as she works on her current masterpiece.

“Those are turning out beautifully,” Mary Beth calls out as she passes by with an armload of fresh eucalyptus. The sweet, clean scent fills the air around us. “You’ve really got an eye for these quick arrangements.”

“Thanks,” I smile, feeling a sense of pride in my work as I adjust a slightly drooping stem. After my conversation with Ms. Lucy this morning and the subsequent call with the lawyer, I feel a little better.

The bell above the door chimes, and I instinctively whirl my head at the sound. Molly Henderson walks in with Tommy, his mop of light brown curls bouncing as he skips alongside his mom. Sophie peeks around the corner of the archway to see who just walked in.

“Hi Tommy.” She waves.

“Can I go play with Sophie mom?” He asks, already gravitating toward her.

Molly looks at me for confirmation and I nod, “Sure, sweetie. Just stay where me and Ms. Bailey can see you both.”

I watch as they both settle back at the desk, their heads bent together over Sophie’s coloring books. Molly makes her way over to where I’m working, admiring the arrangements I’ve completed.

“These are gorgeous, Bailey,” she says, gently touching a peach rose petal. “You know, I should get one for my kitchen table.”

“Take your pick,” I gesture to the finished bouquets. “I just finished these five.”

I watch as her fingers trail over each arrangement, her eyes taking in the different color combinations. She lingers on a soft pastel mix of peachy roses and lavender stock.

“This one’s speaking to me,” she picks up the bundle, bringing it closer to inspect the blooms.

“Those are my favorite combo.” I smile

Just then from the back office, we hear Tommy’s enthusiastic description of what sounds like a dinosaur.

I jump, nearly dropping the ribbon I’m tying around a bouquet. My heart hammers against my ribs as I spin toward the sound, my body tensing automatically.

But then I hear it. Sophie’s laughter. Not the nervous, hesitant giggle she’s developed over the past months, but a laugh that bubbles up from somewhere deep inside her.

“Tommy. Inside voice, please,” Molly calls out, giving me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Mom.” He replies, not looking sorry at all as he continues his dinosaur game in exaggerated whispers that makes Sophie cover her mouth to stifle another laugh.

I press a hand to my chest, willing my racing heart to slow down. “It’s okay,” I say, both to Molly and to myself. “Just startled me.”

She gives me a soft smile and then hands me the bundle. “Can I take this one?”

“Of course.” I reach for the kraft paper roll we keep under the counter, pulling out a sheet. The familiar rustle of paper grounds me as I lay it flat, positioning the bouquet diagonally in the center.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” she says, watching me fold the corners of the paper. “Would you and Sophie have time this week for a play date at the coffee shop?”

My fingers freeze mid-fold. A simple invitation, yet my chest tightens instantly. A play date.

“I-” The words catch in my throat as memories flash through my mind.

Matt’s voice, cold and controlling: “Why do you need to go out? Who are you meeting? I don’t want you talking to those women.”

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