Page 20 of Poinsettia Lane

Everly catches one last glimpse of Magnolia Nursery in her rearview mirror before her smile slowly fades and reality sets back in alongside her anxiety, and she begins to question everything. Did she imagine his flirting? Surely not, those smiles weren’t fake, and she is sure he winked at least once, maybe even twice. No one winks unless they’re flirting. But what if it’s a nervous tic? Two winks seems like a lot, so it might make sense if it was a tic, or just a thing he does. Maybe the attraction is one sided and he simply doesn’t want to be rude to her, or he could just be a flirt. He might flirt with everyone, and she’s sure he would have no problem snagging anyone he wanted.

Outside the candy shop he asked to see her again, but he didn’t say anything about a date or ask for her number. Is she too awkward? Everly knows she’s physically attractive, but maybe after that last disaster he decided she’s not worth it. He did write down his number for her, even though he said it’s for the landscaping. Maybe that’s just a side gig for him, and since he doesn’t have a full landscaping business he gave her his personal number so she won’t have to play phone tag with him via the garden center phone.

Her mind is spinning more and more the further away from him she drives, questioning the entire encounter, and she can’t decide if that’s because she’s out fromunder his spell and seeing things more clearly, or because her anxious thoughts have taken over again—or more likely, a mix of both.

Everly tries her best to ignore it all when she gets home, unloading the plants with much more difficulty than Asim had loading them in, and lining them up outside on the driveway. Not sure what else to do, she retreats inside to make one of her favorite cocktails, deciding it’s a good night for self care. Her jacuzzi tub and hockey romance novel make for an excellent distraction.

CHAPTER EIGHT

FRANKIE DOESN’T CLOSE Roasted when Everly shows up the next morning. Obviously they can’t wait to hear how the plant shopping/stalking went, and Everly desperately needs an outside perspective. She is way too in her head about it, and luckily for her, Frankie doesn’t hold back.

Ever.

“Dude, you need to chill.” They are clearly getting exasperated with Everly at this point. Turning away from the espresso machine, Frankie stomps toward Everly and slams their hands flat on the counter. Leaning forward, they look ready to smack Everly on the back of her head. “He gave you his number, he didn’t have to do that.”

The need to play devil’s advocate doesn’t abate, her blood heating for a multitude of tangled reasons. “But what if he was just being polite, or what if he wants a side gig landscaping. Maybe he’s trying to go that direction—”

“No. I’m telling you right now.No.” Frankie slashes their hands through the air in emphasis from behind the counter, turning back around to finish the latte they were making for a customer who is eavesdropping with zero shame just a few feet away.

As they pass the customer their drink, Frankie comes around to her side of the counter and drops their hands onto Everly’s shoulders, making her slump. “You want to know what I think?” they ask her.

“That is why I’m here.” Everly doesn’t intend to grumble a whine, but it definitely comes out that way.

Frankie angles the two of them toward the cozy backcorner, the one Everly sometimes hides in.

“I think Asim realized you were having a hard time with him coming on to you.”

Everly gets stuck on his name, and it takes her an extra second to catch up with the rest of their statement.

“Wait, no. I wasn’t having a hard time with that. I was having a hard time with my anxiety getting in the way, it was just a bad day.” Everly clarifies, although she also wonders if there’s more to it than that, and if maybe Frankie’s guess has some merit.

“Whatever it was, I think he saw it. I mean you pretty obviously freaked out, more than once.” Frankie cocks their head, and Everly gives them this one, nodding in agreement. “I think he’s backed off to give you space because you’re clearly an emotional wreck at times—”

“Okay come on—” Everly interrupts, but Frankie cuts her off right back.

“—but that’s okay because you’re human. We’re all a mess every now and then.” Frankie concludes. “So… just think it out. Take some ‘you’ time, and decide if you want to put yourself out there.”

Everly is trying really hard not to get defensive about this, because she does see that Frankie has a valid point. She also sees that Frankie is throwing the same message at her as before, challenging her to think about what she wants, rather than what she should do or what others would expect her to do, as she has typically done in the past. Not for the first time, she wonders if Frankie and Carrie are in cahoots.

“How about some of your favorite tea while you think it over.” It’s not a question. Frankie is telling her in their stern-but-loving way to sit there and think about her choices.

Frankie pats her leg before walking back over to the counter. As usual, Everly listens to them, despite feeling a little bit like she’s just been put in time-out.

~~~

A few days later, Everly decides to give it a go. As she’s thinking back over her conversation with Asim at Magnolia Nursery, she realizes he said he would helpwith the project, but he also offered to put her in contact with a landscaper he knows. She isn’t sure now what he meant by him helping, so this is her first order of business. She’s going to call and ask what he meant—after writing out a script, of course.

She writes a few lines, then crosses them out and starts over. Tapping her pen against her paper, Everly thinks it over, going for more neuro-typical, less anxious mess.

What would Carrie say?

She tries again, sticking to bullet points, and finally comes up with a couple options that feel feasible.

Everly turns the business card over, the corner of her mouth twitching when she notices his handwriting is neater than she would have expected. She brings the card closer to her nose, eyes squinting as she looks at it more closely.

That is the cutest ‘8’ she has ever seen. It’s a little crooked, with a chubby lower loop. Everly drops the card onto the table and unlocks her phone. She taps in the number, double checks (and triple checks) that she typed it correctly, then hits the green call button. She immediately stands up from the bar stool in her kitchen and starts tracing her usual path around the island as his phone rings.

Just when she thinks he won’t answer and starts to feel a dip of disappointment in her stomach, combined with a swell of relief for avoiding what is sure to be an awkward conversation, he picks up.

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