Page 2 of Love's Bloom
Misty motioned for Crystal to set the box down on the counter. “Thanks. I would’ve eventually realized it was missing.”
“How are you doing with your share of our move?” Misty asked Crystal.
“Good, I guess,” Crystal replied. “I never realized how much stuff I have.”
They laughed together, remembering how easy they’d thought it would be.
Love and gratitude filled Misty as she smiled at Crystal, the sister she adored. Crystal was a blond beauty with lavender/blue eyes that matched the purple hair she’d dyed recently. Now, only a soft streak of purple remained.
Misty had always wanted to look like Crystal, but her tan skin, dark eyes, and straight black hair were no match. As a teen, she’d dyed her hair blond, but after several years, she’d allowed her natural dark color to return. Now, when people told her how pretty she was, Misty accepted it as the compliment it was meant to be.
“Where’d you get the flowers?” Crystal asked her.
“David Graham brought them, along with the plant, standing by the sliding glass door.”
“He’s such a sweet, interesting man,” said Crystal. “Just before you moved back to Lilac Lake, his sister died after a long struggle with cancer. The family was heartbroken. David initiated a fundraiser to buy an empty lot in town so they could create a small, tranquil garden and park in her memory. It’s become a coveted spot where people can sit on a bench, enjoy the flower beds, and take a break.”
“I’ve seen it from a distance as I drove by but have never taken the time to stop,” said Misty. “Next time I’m on that street, I’ll spend some time there.”
“Didn’t David also help you move in here?” Crystal said.
“He and Aaron,” Misty said. “Why?”
“Aaron’s another great guy,” said Crystal. “I love this town and how everyone is willing to offer help and support to others. Thank God. That’s what got both of us to this moment in time.”
“I remember how people rallied around us when we were growing up,” she said.
“And how they supported my work at the Café,” Crystal added. “I have them to thank for making such a healthy profit with its sale.”
“I’m proud of what you accomplished,” said Misty. “But then, you’ve always been the strong one.”
Crystal hugged her. “No, Misty. You’re the resilient one. You’ve gone through so much. I hope, now that you’re on your own again, you’ll find the happiness you deserve. And remember, you may be living alone, but your friends and I are here to help you.”
Warmth flooded through her. Misty squeezed her sister with affection. “I know that. Thanks.”
Crystal looked around. “This is such an adorable place. I love that in addition to the master bedroom suite, you have a small office, a big kitchen, and a fireplace in the living area for those cold winter days.”
“It’s ideal for me,” said Misty. “Hazel and I were able to get the last two renovated cabins. I like her and think we’re going to be close friends.” From the South, Hazel and her pronounced southern drawl enchanted everyone.
“I like her too,” said Crystal. She checked her watch. “I’d better get back to work at Emmett’s house. We’re trying to make room for my things yet keep the décor to what we both like.”
“Are you going to be sad to stop working permanently at the Café, helping out the new owners and being out of the apartment?”
Crystal thought for a moment. “It’s going to feel strange. That’s for sure. But I think the plan to work with Melissa on special events like gourmet dinners will be interesting.”
Melissa Hendrickson’s family’s restaurant, Fins, had been destroyed by fire, and though Melissa didn’t want to give up professional cooking entirely, she was thinking of doing some projects with Crystal.
“Something will work out,” said Misty. “Just like you’ve always told me.”
Crystal’s lips curved. “It’ll work out for you, too.”
###
After Crystal left, Misty went back to unpacking. She left the box of books for the last project, thinking she’d take them into the elementary school when she went to set up her classroom.
Misty grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took some time to go through the books she’d kept on a shelf in her Florida classroom so that whenever a student had time to read, they were there.
She lifted a favorite book of hers and opened it. She let out a loud shriek and dropped it on the counter. Someone had written “FUCK YOU” in bold letters across the first page.
