Page 31 of Weekends with You

“I don’t know,” I laughed. “It was your idea. What about candles? Everyone loves candles.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy, are you suggesting evenmorecandles in the flat? If so, we’re going to have to start selling the furniture to make room.”

She was right. We were both shit at this.

“What about socks?” she asked. “Everyone loves a good pair of cozy winter socks.”

It was funny that socks might have been the only thing all eight of us had in common, but it was an excellent idea.

“Socks it is,” I agreed. “Maybe scarves to match?”

“If I had money to buy all eight of us matching socksandscarves, I wouldn’t have to be living with seven flatmates in a converted warehouse flat in the first place, would I?”

I laughed. “Socks it is,” I repeated. We linked arms and ducked into Selfridges, dodging workers dressed as elves and well-dressed women pushing men’s cologne as one of Michael Bublé’s holiday albums blared from the speakers. Since my family didn’t celebrate Christmas, I hadn’t grown up thinking much of the North Pole, but I imagined that if it existed, it would look just like this.

We were out nearly as quickly as we went in. Selfridges was intense on its best day, but during the holidays, it was a different beast. We piled onto the Tube with throngs of holiday shoppers, eight pairs of fuzzy socks in hand (Liv had made me close my eyes while she chose mine so it would still be a surprise), as well as a heap of individually wrapped cookies, each the size of my head.

“This is really generous, Liv,” I said. “We’re lucky to have you.”

“You’re going to make me cry on the Tube,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest. “Love ya, Luce.”

“Love ya back.” I leaned into her for a quick side hug, careful not to squish the bags between us. I’m not sure what it was about Liv, but she made me mushy.

Renee thought she knew me so well, but she was wrong. I could easily share my heart outside of work. Here I was, hugging a roommate on the Tube. If she could only see me now.

“Liv, do you feel like making another stop on the wayhome?” I asked, already prepared to change lines. “I was going to pop into the studio in a bit to do the arrangements for later, but I think I’ll grab the flowers instead and use the empty studio space at home. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the Lotus,” she said, gathering her bags.

“If we pop off at the next stop we can transfer and head straight there.”

Renee wasn’t in when we arrived, so I used my spare key to let us in.

“Is it just you two in this whole place?” Liv asked, looking around.

“More or less. We have some part-time help, Carla, but she really only manages the till and handles the occasional delivery. Renee and I are the only ones doing the arrangements.” I fumbled around in the back, looking through recent deliveries for the perfect pieces for the party.

“That must be a ton of work,” Liv continued. “Do you ever dream of having your own shop?”

I stopped fumbling to carefully consider her question. Of course I’d imagined what it would be like to have my own shop. Doesn’t everyone who works for someone else imagine what it would be like to work for themselves? But it seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream most of the time. I couldn’t imagine leaving Renee, or leaving the place I’d been working since college, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed of it.

“Do I dream of it? Sometimes. Do I have any plans to pursue it? Not quite,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t press it. “Maybe someday. Ready to go?” I left the back with bags full of crimson winterberry and leafy viburnum, imagining lush, Christmas-colored centerpieces.

Henry had arrived late last night, and we’d since exchangeda few pleasantries around the flat. We’d texted only once or twice this time in the weeks he’d been gone, making it easier to come to grips with a platonic friendship. He was in his studio editing photos when Liv and I got back to the flat, and I tried to slip into the empty studio beside his as quietly as possible.

I unloaded the flowers and the extra tools I knew it was safe to nick for this project, and prepared to get to work. Just before I put my headphones in, I heard Henry’s voice.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the makeshift doorway that separated the studios.

“Hey.”

“Does being just friends mean we can no longer learn things from each other? Because now that you’re here, and I have the opportunity to see you in action, I’d like to learn something, if you’ll let me.”

“Are you just saying that so you have an excuse to hang out in here?”

He gasped, feigning offense. “Are you calling me a liar? I might be a lot of things, Lucy, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

“Come in, then,” I said, gesturing to a stool beside me. “Have a seat. Learn something.”

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