Page 55 of Weekends with You

“Learned from the best,” Liv said, flashing him a smile.

“How romantic,” Finn said, pretending to swoon. Liv stuck a finger down her throat, and Jan flipped his middle one up at Liv.

“We should be getting out of here,” Henry laughed. “We’re running the risk of making a scene.”

“But that means Warehouse Weekend is over,” Raja whined.

“There will always be another,” he said, pulling her in for a quick hug. “At least for now. And isn’t next month your turn?”

“Damn right, it is. And we’re all in for a treat. As soon as I figure out the plan, that is.”

“Well, I’ll be counting the minutes,” he said.

“Can’t stay away from us, can ya?”

“Bugger off,” he said, and she sighed.

“I love these weekends.”

“Amen to that,” Finn added from behind us as we filed out.

Henry threw a quick smile in my direction, then looked back at Finn. “Almost makes you wish we had more of them, doesn’t it?”

What a tease.

March

I’d been at work since what felt like the crack of dawn and the bell above the door had sung its song into the silence fewer than a handful of times. I was running out of scraps to fidget with, and the collection of posies I’d been mindlessly arranging all morning was no closer to being purchased than it was when I started. With spring on the horizon and Mother’s Day less than a week away, we’d doubled our order of silky pastel hyacinths, and I’d watched as they wilted little by little, confined by the Lotus’s walls.

“Why don’t you take off?” Renee said, ambling into the studio and clocking me sweeping dead leaves from the workbench into my hands.

“What?” I almost never left the shop early, especially this time of the year.

“Let’s not kid ourselves, pet,” she said. “You’ve not had much to do all day, and it doesn’t seem like that’s to change before we close.” We both looked around the empty shop, and I could have sworn I heard crickets chirping in the distance.

“What’s—”

“It just must be those bigger retailers, that’s all,” Renee said before I could finish asking what was going on. We both knew nothing good would come of asking, but I couldn’t help myself. “Now get going,” she said. “You don’t want to be late.”

I called Henry on my walk to the station, hoping for some comfort before I settled into the weekend. My watch told me he should still be home getting ready before heading to a gig, so I wasn’t surprised when he picked up.

“Hey, you,” he said, and the sound of his voice washed over me like a warm tide. “Are you out early or calling from the studio?” We were getting to know each other’s schedules, given how frequently we worked around them for phone calls and FaceTimes, but I was still sort of embarrassed to tell him the truth.

“Out early,” I mumbled, “but not for good reason. We had, like, no business today. Or all this week, really.”

“Even though Mother’s Day is coming up?” he asked. I knew his ask was genuine, but it felt like salt in a wound.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “I’m really worried about the shop, Hen.”

“Do you think Renee would tell you if you had something to worry about? Maybe it’s just a slow month. All shops must have a lull sometimes, don’t they?” He made good points, and I tried to believe them.

“I don’t know if she would,” I said. “She might be too proud.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” he said. Silence passed between us, and I was sure he could hear my smile over the phone. “I miss you, Luce.”

“I miss you, too.” I sighed. I was getting so used to his voice over the phone that I was beginning to worry I’d forgotten what it sounded like in person.

“I love the traveling,” he continued, “but for our sake, I wish it didn’t always have to be like this. I would love to assuage your worries with a cheese toastie and a Pimm’s right about now,” he said, and if it weren’t for the levity in his voice, I might have cried outside the tube station like an idiot.

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